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feralthoughtdump · 4 years ago

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Arsonist’s Lullaby

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Bucky and his Angel’s relationship grow closer.

Word Count: 6.8K

CW: violence, Bucky and his nightmares, John Walker being an ass, a little bit of fluff, smut, brief shower sex, Bucky steps on the reader with his boots, spitting, choking, spanking, Bucky using his metal arm, crying, FATWS ep. 3&4 spoilers

The cold air of the cargo container was strange, given that they were in a southeast Asian island. It sent a chill down Angel’s spine. Like something would go very wrong. They survey the empty space, searching for Nagel.

Sharon was certain Nagel was here, but there was no sight of him.

But Angel could hear the slight vibrations of music coming from… somewhere.

She approaches the back of the container and feels around the rough metal wall.

“Hey, I think he may be in here.” She beckons them over.

Pressing a gloved hand onto the metal, she pushed, revealing a small laboratory in front of them.

“You three go ahead.” She mutters. “I’ll keep an eye out with Sharon.”

Before they can say anything, she strides out of the container.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” Sharon crosses her arms as the door closes. “I know them well. They can hold their own.”

“Oh, I know.” Angel chuckles.

“Bucky likes to call you Angel, huh. Seems like you two bonded pretty quickly.”

She gives Sharon a humored look as they stroll around the dock.

“I thought psychopaths couldn’t form bonds.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

Their eyes dart all over the place, looking for any oncoming bounty hunters.

“How’d you get my photo anyways?”

“Heavy analysis of CCTV footage, a few phone calls, and a lot of digging. The photo was shit quality, but it was enough for me to go off of.”

“Was it enough to catch me?”

“I guess so. Then Zemo blew up the UN so we tabled the case.”

“Interesting. Maybe that UN bombing was a blessing in disguise. Saved me a life sentence in a high-security prison.”

They turned a corner.

“You wouldn’t have gone to jail. MI6 would’ve given you a job instead.”

“Hmph. I’d rather die than be a servant.”

From the corner of her eye, Angel spots a passing black shadow.

“Guys,” she presses a finger onto her earpiece. “Someone’s here.”

A gunshot rings out from the container and the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Sharon gives her a knowing look and they turn the safety off of their guns.

“Here.” Angel whispers, handing Sharon a knife. “It’ll come in handy.”

Three bounty hunters transverse on them and they open fire, taking them down one by one.

“We don’t have much time, hurry up!” Sharon yells into the earpiece.

A bounty hunter wraps their arms around Angel and she grabs a knife, jamming it into their arm.

Adrenaline floods her system, dialing her senses up to ten. A swift roundhouse kick sends another hunter tumbling to the ground.

From behind her, she hears Sam and Bucky yelling and she runs towards them.

“It’s in every action movie!” She hears Sam yell.

If her life wasn’t on the line, she would’ve laughed.

“You okay?” She pants.

“No! We’re not!” Sam yells. “Zemo shot Nagel!”

“What? Where is he?”

Her question was answered when a container set fire and exploded. She spots Zemo standing atop another, donning a purple mask. Before she can point him out, he sprints away.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Gunshots ring from her right and Bucky wraps a protective arm around her. In her peripheral she sees a bounty hunter riding towards her on a motorcycle, guns blazing. She quickly wriggles out of Bucky’s grasp and sends a knife into the tire, throwing the hunter off of the vehicle and into the fire.

“Good aim.” He says, mouth agape in surprise.

“You just threw that dude into a fire!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, well, he was going to kill us.”

They continue to run through the maze of crates, turning corner after corner, dodging bullet after bullet.

As much as he hates to admit it, the sight of Angel in action, when her violence wasn’t directed towards him, sends a rush through his system.

Zemo speeds towards them in a convertible, signaling them to get in. Sam jumps in the passenger seat while Bucky and Angel sit in the back.

Her pupils are blown wide and Bucky swears he can feel the electricity radiating off of her. Without stopping to calm down, he grabs her face in his hand and presses a passionate kiss on her lips.

His heart skips a beat when she kisses him back, and in the corner of his eye, he spots Sharon giving either him or Angel, a thumbs up.

…

Bucky makes it a habit to call her Angel all the time. He likes the way it slips off his tongue. He likes the way her eyes seem to glimmer when he calls her that. It’s as if the more he calls her Angel, she seems to glow more and more.

He calls her Angel when they board the jet on the way to Latvia.

He calls her Angel when she sits down to change the gauze on her thigh.

He calls her Angel when they get to the Riga safe house.

The more time he spends with her, the more he notices the little things about her. He notices how her tongue sticks out a little when she does her eye makeup.

He notices how her head would bop along to music in her earbuds

He notices how she’ll curl up on the couch, tucking her knees close to her body, while she sketches.

He notices how she’ll mutter curses in different languages. Mandarin, French, Russian, Spanish just to name a few.

He notices how she took off her jewelry when she showers with the exception of a gold chain. A gold chain with a dangling pendant. A pendant of a little angel.

He notices how she uses apple cinnamon body wash. It made her smell warm. It made her smell like home.

She gets along with Sam. Even Zemo.

She talks about philosophy with Zemo and when she converses with Sam, they talk about music.

She’s a force to be reckoned with. Fiery. Just like Selby had said. A firebird.

And despite her cool, hardened front, there was a gentleness to her.

The jet had touched down in Latvia late and night and they collectively decided to get a good night’s rest before finding Karli.

He had woken up from a nightmare. Reliving the memory of killing Yori’s son.

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he padded over to Angel, reading Anna Karenina. Glasses perched on her nose, hair loose and resting past her shoulders.

She looks up at him.

“Nightmare?”

Bucky nods, tears pricking are his eyes.

She places the book on the floor and stretches out on the couch.

“Come here.” She whispers arms open wider

She let him lay his head on her chest, nose pressed against her sternum. With gentle hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, slowing his rapid heartbeat.

The serum had made his hearing sharper and from his position between her breasts, he could hear the soft thumping of her heart. It calmed him.

“Can you sing to me?” He mumbles.

The hand playing with his hair stops.

“Sing to you?” She asks.

“Mhm.”

“I-“ she pauses “I don’t really-“

“Please.” He begs.

She’s quiet, just calmly stroking his hair, then she sighs.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything. Just… please, I want you to sing for me.”

She ponders for a moment before she parts her lips, voice shaky and quiet.

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

He closes his eyes and noses at her sternum.

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours

Staring into open flame

Something in it had a power

Could barely tear my eyes away

The song is unfamiliar. He didn’t listen to music all that much anymore. And even when he listens to music, it was mostly from the 40s.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

Her voice, still soft and quiet, is haunting. The way it wraps around the lyrics, warms his heart. He breathes in the smell of her apple cinnamon body wash.

When I was 16, my senses fooled me

Thought gasoline was on my clothes

I knew that something would always rule me

I knew the scent was mine alone

He loves the way he can feel her chest move up and down. The way her voice sounds so rich with his ear pressed against her chest, the music echoing within her ribs.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

He reaches his hand to play with the angel pendant on her necklace. Finger running over the grooves.

When I was a man I thought it ended

When I knew love's perfect ache

But my peace has always depended

On all the ashes in my wake

As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the last lines of the song lingering on her lips. The images from war. The torture he endured, the people he’s killed, the amends he has yet to make, all temporarily fade from his mind.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

And for the first time since Steve left, Bucky was able to sleep without disturbance.

…

“You have a lovely voice.”

Angel was pulled from her sleep when she hears Zemo’s voice.

She glares at him and places a finger on her lips, shushing him. Bucky was still lying on top of her, still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him.

“My apologies.” He smiles.

“Were you watching us last night?” She interrogates quietly.

“No, but I do have a keen sense of hearing. I heard you singing to James.”

She turns her head to meet his eyes.

“He had a nightmare. It was the least I could do for him.”

“Understandable.” He nods. “My son used to have nightmares and my wife’s voice was the only thing that could put him to sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles sympathetically. “About your family, I mean. I know you lost them a while ago.”

Her hand combs through Bucky’s hair.

“I understand how vengeance and anger overtook you. You needed your revenge. But don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt who? James?”

“Yes.” Her voice darkens. “If you lay a finger on him, I won’t hesitate to bury you.”

Zemo sighs.

“I have no intention of harming him. I see the way you look at him. It’s the same look I used to give my wife. You care for him dearly and given your line of work, I know you’d do anything to avenge the people who harm the ones you love.” He walks towards her and offers her a cookie. Angel takes it with a wary hand.

“You’ve got anything else you want to say?”

“I do have a question about that song. I knew that something would always rule me.” He quotes. “Was that about yourself, or James?”

She narrows her eyes.

“It was just a song.”

“Yet it implies that something will always have power, control, over the songwriter.” He tilts his head.

“What are you implying, Baron?”

“It’s not an implication. It’s an observation. You two share a common trait. For James, it’s his past. His time as the Winter Soldier looms over him. As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.”

“Baron, I suggest you pick your next words very carefully.”

Bucky stirs and she lifts her hand from his head.

“Mmm. Good morning.” He mumbles, voice rough and heavy.

“Good morning to you too sleepyhead.” She coos, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” He hums.

She gives Zemo a look that says ‘get out.’

Zemo gives her a smirk and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

Bucky opens his eyes and Angel can feel her heart melt. He balances himself on his arm to press a kiss to her nose.

“You look cute with bed head.” He chuckles. “So pretty. I could just eat you up.”

“You look quite pretty when you sleep.” She giggles and rubs her nose against his.

He places his head back on her chest and they lie there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city.

Finally, she sighs.

“Alright, Bucky, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He whines and wraps his arms around her.

“No, stay.”

“Bucky,” she says sternly, “I have to wash my hair, let go.”

With a huff, he sits up and lets her get off of the couch. As she stands she turns around spotting Bucky, arms crossed and a pout on his face.

“I never said you couldn’t join.”

Bucky jumps up and runs to her. He places his hands on her waist and turns her around, pressing a kiss to her lips. She links her fingers with his and he follows behind her towards the bathroom.

While they wait for the water to heat up, she reaches into her bag to pull out bottles of product.

He spots the shimmering bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and smiles.

“Apple cinnamon body wash.” He notes.

“Mhm. It's inexpensive but it smells nice.”

“It does.”

She places her hand under the stream of water and gets a feel for the temperature. The water is hot, just how she likes it. Her hands pull the t-shirt over her head and then her cotton underwear.

Bucky waits for her to step into the shower before he strips down and joins her.

A content smile crosses her face when the hot water hits her body but her peace is broken when she hears Bucky yelp.

“Why is the water so hot?”

“I like it hot.” She turns to face him and playfully pokes at his navel. “It’s relaxing.”

“You’re going to boil me alive.” He grumbles.

“If you don’t like the hot water,” She bluntly states, “then get out.”

She shampoos her hair, letting the bubbles froth around her fingers, and then she pours a bit into her hand and reaches up to massage it into Bucky’s hair.

He runs a metal finger down her sternum, collecting a bit of the bubbles that run down her body. When his finger reaches her scar, his touch lingers.

Seeing the guilt in his eyes, Angel places a finger underneath his chin and has him look into her eyes instead.

“Don’t.” She murmurs. “You’ll only torture yourself reminiscing on the past.” She pulls him under the stream, letting the water wash away the shampoo in their hair.

She’s got a meticulous shower routine, one that she likes to perform herself, yet she’s okay with Bucky standing next to her. When she combs the conditioner through her hair, she does the same for Bucky, knowing it would soften his hair even more and make it smell like vanilla and pomegranate.

She places a bit of the apple cinnamon body wash in her hands and rubs it onto his body. Her hands pay extra attention to the scar on his shoulder.

“It’s got vitamin E in it. Helps with scars.”

Bucky turns her around, making her face away from him.

She can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but she hums with relaxation when she feels his strong hands rub the body wash into her skin.

“You’ve got some knots in your shoulders.” He notes.

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I am.”

When the water washes away the body wash, the shower is filled with the scent of apple cinnamon.

She’s surprised when she feels a kiss on the back of her shoulder but nevertheless, she enjoys it.

Bucky presses another kiss in the center of her shoulders and kisses her along the line of her back. He sinks to his knees and places a kiss onto the dimples of her back.

“Buck, what are you doing?” She smirks, turning around.

“I just wanna love on you.” He murmurs against her skin. “Can I?”

She blinks owlishly, then slowly nods her head.

“Y-yeah” she breathes.

Bucky places a kiss on her scar and runs his tongue over it, sending a fire through her.

“Open your legs for me, doll.”

She shyly parts her legs and Bucky smiles up at her.

He grabs her waist, hoisting her knees over his shoulders, pressing her back against the wall.

She lets out gaspy whines when he kisses and nips at her thighs, letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin.

“Bucky,” she whimpers “we- we’re going to waste water.”

“Don’t worry about that, doll.” He murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.”

He licks a stripe up her folds, causing her to gasp. She grabs onto his hair, pulling him closer.

“So sweet, baby. You taste so sweet.”

She doesn’t reply. She couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel so good.

She slaps her other hand onto the wall, trying to hold herself up. Bucky tightens his grip on her and leans in closer, continuously licking into her, making her head spin.

She tries to say something, tell him she’s close, tell him she’s going to cum quicker than she thought, but the only sounds that leave her mouth are breathy moans.

When he pulls away, she whines. He gives her a cocky grin.

“Wanna cum?”

She vigorously nods her head.

“That’s a shame.” He lets go of her legs, almost dropping her onto the tile, and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “We’ve got a big day ahead.” His tone is teasing, almost mean. “I’ll let you cum later.”

She’s left on the edge, and she’s angry. No, not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated and desperate.

“You’re mean.” She grumbles, shutting off the water.

“If you give me attitude, I won’t let you cum at all.” He chuckles.

She pushes him away and wraps a towel around her body.

“I don’t need you to cum anyways.” She grumbles under her breath.

As she walks away, he grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls her into his chest.

“If I were you,” He lowers his lips to her ear, “I’d behave. Now,” he releases his grip and gives her ass a smack. “Get dressed, we’ve got a lot to do today.”

She digs through her duffel to find a simple red jumpsuit. The neckline is low enough to be teasing, but it had enough support and pockets to be practical.

“Sounds like someone had a good morning.”

She turns around, a big grin stretching across her face when she sees Sam.

“Sam! Good morning!” She cheers.

“No need to good morning me when I woke up to the sound of fucking.” he grumbles, annoyance in his voice.

She chuckles as she buttons the front of her jumpsuit.

“So, Bucky tells me we have a lot going on today. What’s on the itinerary?”

“Hopefully, we can track down Karli and convince her to stop. At least that’s my plan.”

“Sounds good.”

He grabs his jacket from the chair. “I’m headed out to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“I’m okay.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for asking.”

Sam reaches the door and turns around.

“One more thing, you’ve got a great voice.”

“Was I that loud or did no one sleep at all last night?”

Sam chuckles.

“I think after the past few days, it’s hard for anyone to get a good night's sleep.” He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. “What you did… what you did for Bucky in Madripoor, when we were undercover…”

“What did I do?” She asks curiously.

“When Zemo had him go all Winter Soldier, you fought alongside him, you got to that first guy before Bucky did.”

Angel is quiet. She says nothing, looking down at her hands and picking at her cuticles.

“He might not say this to your face, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’s thankful. And so am I.”

She doesn’t know what to say. What would she even say?

“I can see now why he likes calling you Angel.”

With that, the door closes.

She walks over to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. The shelves were fairly empty, mostly just tins of cookies and candy, and a box of cherry blossom tea. She huffs in frustration when her fingers brush over the tin of candy, barely moving it.

“Need some help, doll?”

Bucky grabs the tin and places it on the counter.

Her frustration is reignited at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt. She wants him to bend her over, fuck her until she sobs.

But she knows he won’t give her that.

Before she can grab it, Bucky holds it above his head.

“You’re evil.” She mutters. “Come on, give me it.”

“Nope!” He smirks.

“Go fu-“

She yelps when Bucky loops his thumb through the belt loop of her jumpsuit and pulls her close to him.

“Remember what I told you? Watch your language.”

“Give me the candy or you’re not getting head for a week.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he hands her the box.

“Thank you.”

She presses a kiss to his nose and walks away with the box.

She knows what Bucky’s doing. He’s riling her up, teasing her.

But two can play that game.

She sits up on the counter and opens the tin.

Turkish Delight. Candy she used to eat as a child.

He’s staring at her. She can feel it. Her fingers pluck a candy from the box and hold it up.

“Want one?”

Bucky walks over to her and wedges himself between her thighs.

“Sure.”

She unwraps the candy and places a finger on his chin, beckoning him to open his mouth.

Her fingers place the treat on his tongue.

“Sweet, isn’t it?”

He kisses her and she can taste the sugar on his lips.

“Almost as sweet as you.”

She grabs another and hops off of the counter, humored by Bucky’s frustrated look.

“Sam probably wants everyone ready by the time he gets back. So, I don’t know.” She eyes him up and down, ready to drool at the sight of his arms. “Get dressed.”

“Oh doll, I’m already dressed.” He chuckles.

“Good. Then help me out.” Her fingers deftly unbutton the top of her jumpsuit, exposing her black sports bra. She reaches for her harness and shoves it in Bucky’s hands. “Buckle me in.”

…

Sex was the last thing on her mind when she’s face to face with the new Captain America.

“Karli Morganthau is too dangerous for you to be pulling this shit.” He yells.

Angel rolls her eyes at the sight of John Walker.

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky replies, voice full of annoyance.

“You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”

Angel’s seen his face in the news. Lemar, the better of America’s new dynamic duo.

“No more keeping us in the dark, and you can tell us why you broke him” John points to Zemo “out of prison.”

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky answers.

“That is an unbelievable explanation! And who the hell are you?” He points to Angel.

“I’m a friend.” She grumbles, eyes narrowed.

“You have no business being here. And whatever you’re wearing, all you’re going to do is draw attention.”

“And your little Mr. America getup isn’t?��

“Why don’t you go back to working in European intelligence or whatever it is you do.”

“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Walker.” She snarls. “Is that really how you speak to a lady?”

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupts their feud.

“Well, where?”

“All we know is,” Sam answers, “It’s a memorial. We’ll intercept her there.”

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Lemar states.

“Alright good.” John schemes. “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.”

“Not a good idea, John.” Angel retorts. He halts in his steps and turns to her.

“You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. This is an American situation.”

She leans in until she’s staring into his eyes. Rage broils inside of her.

“Let me tell you something John, I don’t care about your medals of honor. I don’t care that you’re wearing that red and blue suit. So I’ll tell you this once, and only once. If you dare speak to me like this again, I won’t hesitate to-“

Bucky pulls her back, giving her a stern look.

“Hey,” he rubs her shoulder, trying to settle her anger. “He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, so she’s your little girlfriend huh?”

Angel presses the tip of her knife against his chin and backs him into a wall.

“You stay out of Bucky’s business.” She seethes.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

This time, both Sam and Bucky had to pull her away, but she keeps her murderous glare trained on him.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes. Keep your little psycho under control.” John spits.

“Hey, don’t speak to her like that,” Sam demands. “Just because you don’t know her doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude.”

“Either you show her some respect,” Bucky says “or all of the help we have to offer is off of the table.”

Sam nods in agreement and eventually so does Zemo, who adds a small shrug.

“I wasn't actually going to kill him.” She mutters under her breath.

“We know.” Sam pulls her into a side hug. He directs his words back to John. “I want to talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.”

“Look, the person closest to her died. She’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now.”

“What?” John halts in his steps. “No, wait stop. We are way past reasoning with her.”

“Sam,” Lemar states. “If you walk in there cold, you could die.”

“But if you walk in guns blazing, you could have the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands.” Angel folds her arms. “Besides, if things go wrong, I’m trained in mixed martial arts.”

“You think a black belt will save you from a super-soldier?”

Angel snorts.

“It has before.”

Bucky looks down and stifles a laugh.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam argues with John. “This is in my wheelhouse.”

They’re all silent, staring daggers at each other.

“John,” Lemar breaks the silence “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” He gives Angel a kind smile. “And I think we give this girl a chance to show us what she’s got.”

“Thank you.” She smiles back.

“I’m sure this can all come to an agreeable conclusion.” Zemo points forward. “My associate is just up ahead.”

They watch as Zemo approaches a young girl, handing her some money. She beckons them to follow her down a cobblestone path, into a building, and through the boiler room.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” John states while handcuffing Zemo to a pipe. “Then we’re doing things my way.”

While they wait, Angel spends her time playing with her butterfly knife, spinning the handle around her fingers.

“How do you not cut yourself doing that?” Lemar asks.

She spins the knife closed.

“I have before, it’s just about practice and being careful. Here, I’ll show you.”

Bucky observes Angel showing off her knife tricks to Lemar.

Despite the stressful situation, he still felt a pang of possessiveness. She was his Angel. He gave her that name and when she said she’d accepted it. In a way, she was his and he was hers.

“What’s your name? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

He hears Lemar ask.

Angel giggles.

“It’s Artemis. Like the goddess.”

Artemis. It’s fitting, Bucky thinks. The goddess of the hunt.

“That’s really cool. Let me guess, your parents were huge mythology fans?”

“You can say that.” She chuckles.

His eyes narrow when she smiles at Lemar.

Their conversation continues and Bucky’s jealousy burns brighter when she places her fingers on the fabric of Lemar’s suit, giving him a comment on how she’s got an eye for fashion and how nice the fabric was. From his position by the door, he sees her turn to him and give him a wink.

Bucky scowls. That little minx.

John crosses his arms and stares daggers into her.

“What exactly do you do, anyway?” He scoffs. “Are you some kind of spy?”

Angel raises a brow.

“I’m not a spy. I’m just a problem solver.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John shakes his head and secures the shield on his arm. “Nevermind. I’m going in.”

“Oh, come on John, it’s only been eight minutes.”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not-” Angel sighs and turns away, focusing her attention on pulling her hair back.

Bucky stops him before John can get through the doorway.

“It must be so easy for you.” John’s voice is full of malice. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Bucky can see Angel slowly shake her head, telling him not to give in to John’s words. But he can’t. He’s already done so much harm. He’s responsible for the deaths of so many people, he can’t let Sam become another.

So, he lets John walk past him, Lemar following along.

Angel runs up to him.

“Bucky, why’d you do that?”

“I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk losing him.”

She sighs and places a gentle hand on his cheek.

“I understand.” Her lips land a gentle kiss on his nose. “But don’t let his words get to you. Now,” She grins and lightly smacks his ass. “Go make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.”

With one final kiss, Bucky runs off.

She turns around to see the handcuffs dangling from the pole. Her blood runs cold. Zemo escaped and who knows what he’ll do.

She runs through the halls, boots quietly slapping on the concrete floors. From her left, she hears a series of loud gunshots and crunching glass.

Her feet lightly tread next to the walls, ears picking up every little sound.

She jumps, heartbeat pounding when the thump of a body falling to the ground meets her ears.

Did Zemo kill someone? Was it Karli? Another Flag-Smasher?

She runs through the door closest to her. From behind a table, she spots John staring at a small vial. A small vial of the serum. Before she can say anything, he runs away.

As she quietly walks into the room, she spots Zemo, lying on the ground, unconscious. No one else was here.

She crouches down next to him and gently shakes his shoulder.

“Baron? Zemo? Come on, wake up.”

He doesn’t move.

She picks up his wrist, pressing her pointer and middle fingers on the vein. A sigh of relief passes her lips at the feeling of a pulse.

Her hands shake his shoulder again, this time, with more vigor.

“Zemo!” She shouts.

His eyes snap open and he groans in pain.

“You passed out Baron.”

“I’m aware.” He grumbles. “John Walker threw the shield at me.”

“Of course he did.”

She offers him a hand and helps him stand up.

“Can you walk?” She asks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

The two make their way through the city until they reach Zemo’s apartment. Sam was already there, typing away on his computer.

Angel wets a towel in the kitchen and hands it to Zemo.

“Go, lie down. Put this over your eyes.”

She walks down the hall towards Bucky’s room. With a tired sigh, she removes her shoes, jumpsuit, and harness.

Her eyes close as she lies on the bed in her underwear. The sports bra felt much too tight but she didn’t care. She was tired. Her morning sexual frustration had caught up to her but she didn’t feel like doing anything about it.

Even though it was only seven in the evening, she just wanted to sleep.

Right when she’s drifting off to sleep, the slam of the bedroom door jolts her awake.

Bucky is standing in front of her, arms crossed, eyes filled with rage.

“Get off the bed.” He snarls.

She laughs and rolls over onto her stomach.

“No. If sex is what you want, let’s do it on the bed.”

She hears a sigh behind her and her eyes widen when she feels Bucky’s hands wrap around her ankles.

“Buck, what are you-”

Her words come to a halt when he pulls her off of the bed and onto her knees.

“You wanted me to fuck you?” He seethes. “Fuck you rough until you can’t speak?”

“That was the plan.” She smirks.

He twists a hand in her hair and pulls her head back. Her breath is shallow as she looks up, meeting Bucky’s angry eyes.

He’s mad. At the entire Karli situation, and maybe with her. But his anger towards her, she assumes, is fiery, lustful anger. Anger that she can have a lot of fun with.

“If you had let me cum earlier,” She snaps, “ maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

She rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate the arousal burning through her. A whine leaves her lips when he kicks her legs apart.

He tightens his grip on her hair.

“You really need to learn some respect.”

Bucky places the toe of his boot on her back and pushes her face down onto the floor. She doesn’t resist, giving in to his dominance.

“Aww, look at you,” he mocks, “You were so bold earlier, my Angel. Where did that fire go?”

Her heart swells. He’s no longer calling her Angel. He’s called her his Angel. She was his.

Footsteps echo around her and she takes a shaky breath when his black boots come into view.

“Look at me, doll. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

His voice is commanding, authoritative. It drew her in, made her head spin.

She looks up at him with wide eyes as he bends down on a knee.

“Were you trying to rile me up? Trying to make me angry?”

She nods.

Bucky roughly grabs her chin, cold metal digging into her cheeks.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes Sergeant.” She squeaks.

He stares down at her, anger and lust in his eyes.

“Open your mouth.”

Her lips part and Bucky spits, letting his saliva pool on her tongue.

His fingers press on her chin, closing her mouth. She swallows, heat burning in her tummy.

“So now, you want to be a good girl, huh?”

He picks her up by her neck and shoves her face into the soft mattress. His fingers loop around the elastic waistband of her panties and pull, the fabric digging into her cunt.

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” She whines. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

He leans in close, his warm breath brushing over her ear.

“I don’t believe you.”

He rears his metal hand against her ass, leaving a red handprint of her skin.

A choked breath leaves her lips. She relishes in the pain and gives him a cocky smile.

“Is that all you got Sarge?”

He lands another hard smack, this time on her thigh. A whimper escapes her lips.

“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

He shifts his hand on her neck, wrapping it around the front of her neck. She squeezes at the sides, slowing the circulation of blood to her head.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the hand on her throat stops the words from leaving her lips.

The clinking of his belt buckle sends a wave of lust through her.

She was finally getting what she wanted.

His hand on her neck is released and she takes in a sharp breath.

He pulls her panties down her legs and throws them to the side.

She gasps at the feeling of cold metal rubbing between her folds. Her fingers dig into the sheets, grabbing at the fabric.

“You’re practically dripping.” He muses, “Who knew you were such a masochist?”

“Only for you.” She keens.

“Only for me? Not for anyone else?”

“Yes! Yes! Only you!”

Bucky hums and lands another smack on her ass. She yelps and tears threaten to spill from her eyes.

He shoves two fingers inside of her and she gasps at the cool feeling of the metal.

She squirms around as he twists his fingers, pressing against that spot inside of her.

Hunger swarms her brain. She wanted, no, needed more.

What he’s doing is sadistic, she thinks. Constantly bringing her to the edge, but never letting her tip over.

He lets his thumb press against her clit and the tears she’s been trying to hold back spill over. She lets out a quiet sob into the sheets but Bucky doesn’t stop his movements.

“I need more.” She quietly whimpers.

“You think you have the right to beg?” He asks nonchalantly. “After that little show?”

“I’m sorry.” She cries.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns her head, letting her cheek rest on the bedsheets. When she glances up, she can see Bucky’s amused smirk.

She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance and she holds her breath.

“Oh doll,” he coos, thumbing away her tears, “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

A sudden thrust of his hips buries his cock inside of her. Bucky clamps his hand over her lips, muffling her desperate cries.

“Shh, shh,” He whispers gently. “It’s okay, love. Be a good girl and take it.”

He starts moving, his hips slowly thrusting into her. The fire inside of her burns, hotter and hotter. Her head is reeling as she feels herself come closer to her impending orgasm. Despite how rough he is with her, she feels safe. Safe with him. She feels safe enough to fall into submission, open and pliant for him.

Her sobs against his hand become louder, more intense and he bends down to nip at her neck.

“Are you gonna cum, angel? Cum all over my cock?”

She nods, eyes squeezed shut.

“Do you think you deserve it?” He asks.

“No,” she mumbles against his hand. “But I want to.”

He brushes his fingers down the length of her back and she shivers.

“You wanna cum, doll? Ask nicely.”

He releases his hand and grabs her hip, pulling her deeper onto his cock.

“Please.” She gasps. “Please, let me cum!”

“You have to do better than that.”

“Please, I’ll be so good for you! I’ll never flirt with anyone again! Just please! Please, I wanna cum.”

He picks up his pace, and she finds it harder to stave off her orgasm.

“So polite.” He hums, “But not yet.”

She lets out a pathetic sob.

“Please.” She whimpers.

“Be patient. You’ll get to cum soon.”

Her breaths are shallow as she tries to keep herself from cumming. She bites down on her lower lip but the pain does little to help.

Relief washes over her when Bucky speaks again.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me. Come on angel, cum for me.”

Her teeth bite down on the sheets as she’s hurtles over the edge, her orgasm sending shockwaves through her body.

As her chest heaves and her mind becomes foggy, she can barely feel Bucky pull out and releases him cum on her back.

She lies there, upper half sprawled over the mattress, a dopey smile on her face. A hum of pleasure slips past her lips when Bucky wipes his cum away with a warm washcloth.

“You okay, doll?” He asks.

She nods her head.

The bed shifts as he sits on the bed and pulls her towards him.

“Come on,” He lies down and pulls her close to him. He noses at the back of her shoulder. “Get some rest.”

The sun was about to set, bathing their bodies in a golden glow. He runs his metal fingers over her bicep, cooling down her heated skin.

She’s tired, so tired. Yet she’s happy. The first time in a long time that she’s actually felt happy.

“Bucky?” She asks in a fucked out daze.

“Yes my angel?”

A moment of silence passes.

“You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.”

...

Once again, tysm @sojournmichael for reading over my little snippets of writing!

#bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #bucky fanfic

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 5 years ago

Note

So like, maybe a Yan!Yoshikage Kira who somehow can't bring himself to kill his s/o, so he just keeps them for himself insted?

I’m so sorry for the radio silence, I haven’t really been in the groove to write as of late. I went for the angle of an attempted look of self discovery of his twisted obsession. Uh besides the hand fetish! Anyway I hope I wasn’t rusty with writing this...

Yandere! Yoshikage Kira unable to bring himself to kill his s/o

It should’ve been a simple task to throw another person’s life away for the possession of their hands. Not once before had he had a single ounce of remorse as his victims mouths opened agape in terror of disintegrating into thin air. Destroying everything except a single piece, akin to cutting an object out of a picture and burning the rest.

Ending everything was all too easy with Killer Queen, yet he couldn’t will himself to detonate the bomb. Such an ironic thing for a man who wanted to keep his normal life in tact, to lose himself in a person who should’ve been another casualty. Hesitation wasn’t something Kira Yoshikage was very familiar with, if something kept him from sleeping at night he would dispose of that obstacle.

The blond bit down on his lower lip impulsively, quickly drawing blood from his current state of mind. Your unconscious form lying on his bed, mocking him for his failure into committing another murder. He strode over, after distancing himself temporarily to regain some semblance of composure. The man’s blue eyes immediately fell onto your gorgeous hands. Your fingernails perfectly cut and polished with a clear coat, and skin smoother than velveteen.

The male recalled seeing these pair of hands of yours stirring a cup of coffee, in one of the cafe’s closer to the heart of Morioh. He had just glanced your way with a small smile on your lips, your eyes firmly concentrated on the hot concoction within your grasp. At the time his immediate interest in your hands was like any other. He just had to get you alone, and promptly finish you off and take what he desired most of your body.

He had hid himself beyond your peripheral vision, making sure to keep eye contact at a minimum while amongst the crowd. Waiting for an opportunity to pounce and snatch his reward unsuspected. However there was an unexpected bump when one of your high heels snapped, he was unable to approach as a worker rushed to assist you immediately.

The way you had gasped in that moment had caught him off guard, even distracting him enough from the drivel that spewed out of the employee’s lips. His eyes adverted quickly to your hands, seeing just a few scrapes on your otherwise perfect hands. A flaw on otherwise lavish flesh, but it wasn’t that unsightly.

You hailed a cab shortly after these events arose, leaving a bitter taste in the serial killer’s mouth. He had no opening to get close to you, it bothered him considerably as he would normally corner a person easily. But it’s not like he could anticipate such an event happening unfortunately.

There was discomfort swelling beneath his cool demeanor, surely you’d come back around. He was certain of that even with a small hiccup like this one.

The following few days hit the man hard, as he aimlessly tried to keep his schedule organized as usual. The hands of women around him began picking at the dark desires in his head. Yet he found no motivation to go after any of them, even if they were conveniently by their lonesome. It was strange and frustrating, he couldn’t seem to settle for some reason. He felt as if he was seeking something more luxurious to his tastes. Yet no one he spotted could fit that criteria.

He started comparing their hands to yours he just happened to get a glimpse of. Sure some were moisturized like yours, but their technique wasn’t comparable to yours. Your hands looked different to touch than of those around him. The thoughts of you were becoming invasive to the serial killer. He had to find you and do something about this disturbance that was flowing through his mind. You had thrown out his sense of normalcy even for his darker thoughts.

The thirty three year old tracked down the cafe you had visited that fateful day for his lunch the following day. However he saw no sign of you within the vicinity. He also did this after work if he could help it, with the additional distance thrown in his search area it practically became a new routine.

You were the only one that had changed his way of life drastically like this.

The day he did spot you however was a welcome one, he found himself quickly tailing you. Seeking to finally end this tedious game that had tested his own patience.

On the other side of things, you were content while walking home. After several days of letting your ankle heal after that incident you were happy to return home once again from a long day of work. Your eyes decided to wander, longingly gazing at your surroundings, apartment complexes, and homes alike.

“I’m so happy to be out again, it’s nice to be outside of four walls of my bedroom...” You sighed to yourself wistfully

A cool breeze hits your face refreshingly, and just for a moment you decide to shut your eyes in bliss.

Only to open them in a panic upon a grip on your shoulder, but the familiar voice of a coworker quickly puts you at ease.

As if a bitter twist of fate had occurred, there was evident frustration written on Yoshikage Kira’s face. He had thought it would’ve been a good time to strike, but then a woman unfamiliar to himself just happened to step out from another street. He could care less about her in this instance, so he should be able to simply eliminate her quickly before getting to you.

Yet he found it difficult to approach, he had confidence in Killer Queen but something underlying in his mind was telling him to wait. Conversation, between you and them he would usually not care about. But he was listening more to your end of the conversation. A bag was exchanged from their hands to yours.

Once separating the blond went on the move, not before doing away with the obstacle that had been your coworker first. As they practically vanish into dust, there’s not a single thought about taking her hands for himself. Something he could easily do and return to a normal life as soon as possible. He didn’t settle for hers however, he refused to for some reason. His issue would only be resolved when he could approach you.

The sooner he got rid of you, the sooner he wouldn’t have to worry about the image of you, surely. The odd sensations arising in his chest surely would fizzle on their own. It seemed almost too easy to approach you from behind, just one touch and you’d be done for.

At least that’s how it would typically turn out in theory.

His stand Killer Queen poises itself to take another life, however not without slight hesitance. As Kira himself thinks of the waste it would be if you were to rot away. There were little options of replacements comparable to you that Kira could easily get away with. This wasn’t quite right to him, it was utter nonsense to his murderous capabilities. ‘Tch how inconvenient’ He thinks to himself

Killer Queen no longer reaches out to make you into a living bomb, it’s cat like eyes presenting the same expression as its master.

A quick witted decision later he decides to interfere with the bag you were currently handling. A small explosion you were unable to hear, incinerated the handles, the bag quickly fell to the ground spilling its contents. You moved quickly to try and keep everything from dispersing until abruptly noticing a man who was fairly close to your proximity. Your eyes had a little fright in them as the blond leisurely picked up what appeared to be a bottle of hand soap before looking down at your crouched form.

“Pardon, me I couldn’t help but notice your bag’s handles broke...may I help you?”

The sheer hesitance written all over your face was to be expected especially with how quickly he had approached you after being so close. “uhm...sure” You nod ““it would be very kind of you sir”

His pace is once again composed unlike seconds ago with his hesitance. It was such a strange feeling just being relaxed around you. Still there was an unrelenting fervor to do something, anything really to go back to normalcy.

At least somewhat anyway...

That was what had lead him to knock you out behind your back. Keeping you against your will right in his own home.

All to sort out his turmoil with you as of right now.

Letting go of your hand, Kira simply stares at you while watching over your body. “Why do you fascinate me so much....to keep you alive?” He mumbles to himself

“But I suppose we can both learn why as you start your permanent stay...”

He taps his fingers softly on the nearby nightstand, looking at the clock.

“For now I best prepare dinner, before I can ponder anything more with you y/n”

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere jjba #yandere scenario #yoshikage kira #jojo no kimyō na bōken #JJBA #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jjba imagines #jjba x reader

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rosemaidenvixen · 5 years ago

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 9: Darci

Ao3

Darci shifted the bag onto her hip, leaving her hand free to knock on the door.

“It’s open,” Claire’s voice called from inside.

She quickly opened the door so she could better grip the bag, and headed into the house. Everyone else was already there, Jim and Mary were messing around in the kitchen while Toby fiddled with a pile of cards. Claire waved her over from her seat on the couch.

“I brought the guac, you have the chips?”

Darci held up the tote bag “Right here,”

Claire patted the spot next to her “We’re almost ready, Toby just needs to finish shuffling,”

Toby flashed them a thumbs up without taking his eyes away from the cards flying through his fingers.

“So as soon as our chefs finish we’ll be ready to start,” she gestured towards the kitchen.

“It would go a lot faster if someone ,” Jim’s voice wafted out of the kitchen “Would hurry up with the fancy apple juice,”

“Hey, I don’t tell you how to make those little meat pies, you don’t tell me how to do my mocktails,”

“They’re called pasties and more effort goes into them than you’ll ever know,”

“I’m sorry, do you want to play our new years cards against humanity tournament without mocktails? Because if you keep it up that’s what’s going to happen,”

Claire made a face and Darci had to stifle a giggle. She didn’t quite succeed and it came out as a snort.

Fortunately the bickering didn’t last and soon Jim and Mary came into the living room with their respective refreshments.

“We’re good to camp out here all day,” Jim said while carefully setting down his tray “But remember to try and be quiet, Mom just got off a graveyard shift and she’s trying to sleep,”

Darci nodded at this, normally they prefered to hang out at Claire’s house where they had a lot more space and didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone, but since her parents were having a bunch of people over to work on the new nursery they’d been forced to come up with alternate plans.

Toby grabbed the plastic bucket and plunked it down on top of the coffee table “Like we agreed guys, everyone ante up,”

Darci reached into her bag and pulled out the package of sparklers, briefly rereading the label before setting them in the bucket. Around her everyone else produced some kind of firework and put it in the offered bin.

Those were the terms they’d agreed on, everyone chipped in some of their leftover fireworks from last night, and the winner got the pot.

Now that the stakes were set, Toby started dealing out to each of them from the pile of white cards “Just to make sure everyone remembers, no throwing in the towel, we go until we drop. The winner’s the last one standing or the one with the most black cards by five o'clock, whichever comes first,” he flashed them a feral grin “Let the games begin,”

Claire returned his predatory look “You’d better bring your A-game TP, because I’m going home with those bottle rockets,”

The two of them stared each other down, Darci glanced over to Jim and Mary. The three of them rolled their eyes simultaneously.

It wasn’t like it really mattered who won, whoever it was would just end up shooting them all off at the end of the year bonfire with everyone else.

Jim apparently decided he’d had enough of Toby and Claire’s standoff and gently nudged his friend in the shoulder to grab his attention “Ok you dealt so I’ll draw the first black one,”

All eyes were on him as he picked up a black card from the top of the deck, flipped it over, and started reading it out loud “Arby’s, we have….”

The sound of shuffling filled the room as they all started rifling through their cards. Darci scanned through her hand before one in particular grabbed her attention. This one, this one was perfect. She couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face as she set her white card down with the others.

Her card did in fact win the Darci first round, and she won many rounds after that. Though not all of them. Steadily growing piles of black cards grew besides each of them; a visual reminder of each victory. Some rounds were over quickly with a winner being declared in seconds, others took a while, the judge having to choose between multiple very good choices or all bad choices. Some rounds were extended simply because they were all laughing too hard to function.

Their game passed in a blur of giggles, laughs, tears, and groans. So by the time Darci got around to checking her phone, she saw that it was already almost 2pm.

Toby lifted a card from the top of the black deck “Ok, the class field trip was completely ruined by... uh Darci, why are you raising your hand?”

“Hey, uh, not that I’m not having a blast,” she slowly lowered her hand “But all those mocktails are catching up to me,”

His eyes widened by just a fraction “Ah,”

They all looked around at the empty glasses and plates surrounding them. Jim was the first to set his cards facedown on the floor “How about we take a quick five minute break?”

“Ok,”

“Sounds good,”

“Fine by me,”

They all set down their cards and started getting to their feet

Darci glanced down the hall “Hey Jim, where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall past the kitchen, first door on the right, the other door’s just the basement,”

“Thanks,”

Mary started gathering empty glasses “I’ll go ahead and make more mocktails,”

Claire raised her arms above her head and stretched, no doubt working out the kinks in her back from staying seated so long “I think I’ll use the facilities too,”

“Make that three,” Jim added.

Uh oh, sounded like a line was forming.

Wasting no more time, Darci scurried off to the bathroom as discreetly as she could. She had to go bad and did not want to get stuck behind Claire and Jim. A few minutes later she walked out feeling very relieved, but was surprised to see no one waiting by the door.

Where were Jim and Claire? They’d said they had to go to, so why weren’t-- ah, the upstairs bathroom. That must be it.

Looking over to her right revealed that Toby, busy stacking haphazard piles of cards, was the only one in the living room. Sounds of pouring liquids and clinking glasses came from the kitchen, which meant Mary was still in there making drinks. It looked like Toby had the cards under control, so Darci opted to go into the kitchen to see if Mary needed help.

She poked her head through the entryway “You want an assist with those mocktails?”

Mary glanced over to her while still pouring two cans into the large pitcher “I’m just about done, but if you could put the empties in recycle that would be great,”

“Will do,”

Dacri started collecting empty cans and bottles from off the counters. But it was only when her arms were full that she realized she couldn’t see a recycling bin anywhere.

“You know where the bin is?”

“Just put them in the paper bag hanging off the back door,” Mary replied without looking up from stirring the pitcher “They have some other kind of plan,”

Walking over to the back door, Darci found the bag Mary was talking about with no issue, except for one slight problem. She stared at the narrow opening of the paper bag and then back down at the brimming pile of cans in her arms.

This was going to be a challenge.

Unwilling to admit defeat by setting the cans down on the counter and putting them in one at a time, Darci leaned over and held the pile of cans over the bag. Slowly, she loosened her arms and adjusted her grip so that only a few cans fell into the bag at a time.

She was down to five cans and already congratulating herself for pulling this off when the cans shifted unexpectedly, causing four to fall in the bag while one slipped free and started rolling away. Swearing under her breath, Darci chased after the runaway. The can had a headstart on her and rolled straight towards the cracked basement door.

Don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door.

The can slipped perfectly through the crack and she could hear it start bouncing down the steps.

Well darn.

Darci hesitated at the basement door for a second. Jim hadn’t specifically said that the basement was off limits, but it always felt weird going into new spaces at other people’s houses, especially without explicit permission. It always felt like she was sneaking around.

Berating herself, Daric opened the door and headed down the creaky wooden steps towards where the can had landed at the bottom. Why was she making such a big deal about this, it wasn’t like she was looking at anything private, it was just the basement, not someone’s bedroom or home office. Besides, leaving garbage just laying around someone else’s house was a lot worse than accidentally snooping.

Having reached the bottom of the steps, Darci bent over and wrapped her fingers around the wayward can; but before she could even stand back up, the already dim basement suddenly became much darker.

She let out a squeak and whirled her head in the direction of the door above her. It was shut, but only partially, the narrow line of light was proof of that. Probably just swung shut by itself because of the way the house settled. Darci let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. What was with her today? She really needed to quit being so jumpy.

Adrenaline fading, Darci turned and walked back up the steps towards the door. But three steps from the top she paused, squinting to try and peer through the gloom.

It looked like there was some kind of weird...pattern on the door. Or was there? It was mostly clustered in one area and didn’t look like any kind of decorative pattern she’d seen before. From this distance in the dark she couldn’t really tell.

But there was something on the door, that much she was sure of.

Curious now, Darci came to the topmost step and leaned in close, cracking the door wider to let in more light.

What she’d first thought was an engraved pattern on the door was actually scratches. Dozens upon dozens of overlaying scratches clustered just below the middle of the door. Darci’s eyes flitted across the numerous grooves. These marks didn’t look like a one off thing either. They were so deeply layered on top of each other, something must have scratched this door over and over again for a long time. In fact they looked almost like--

Her heart stopped.

Darci raised a hand up, desperately hoping to be proven wrong as she lined her fingers up with a group of the scratches. To her horror they aligned perfectly.

She realized her fingers were trembling.

“Mary!” she hissed, not wanting to shout but needing someone else to see this “Mary come check this out!”

“What is it?”

“Just get over here!”

Mary’s footsteps came towards the basement as Darci pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall, putting the scratches on full display.

Mary came around the corner, frowning, no doubt unhappy about being called over so hastily. Not even bothering to try and pacify her, Darci worlessly pointed towards the scratches. It took Mary a few seconds to notice what Darci was pointing at, but the instant she did her jaw dropped and her eyes got huge “What the hell is all that?”

Darci lined up her fingers to the scratches to demonstrate “I think these are claw marks,” she whispered “Someone was locked in the basement,”

“Holy shit….” Mary said with hushed incredulity, pulling out her phone and snapping a few pics of the scored wood.

Darci moved from examining the door itself to the knob. She was stunned to see it didn’t have a lock in it, meaning that it should have been impossible for anyone to be locked down there. And the knob matched all the others in the house so it wasn’t likely that a lockable knob had been replaced with a lockless knob.

So why had someone been clawing at a door that shouldn’t have been stopping them in the first place?

Her brain chased itself in circles, trying to come up with a solution to the paradox in front of her. Winding Darci into a tighter and tighter spring of anxiety and confusion, and ultimately getting nowhere.

Maybe a different perspective was what she needed to solve this puzzle.

Stepping fully back up into the hall, Darci shut the door all the way. Glancing at the walls surrounding the door for anything odd. It took her a little while but eventually she noticed something.

Something that would have otherwise appeared more or less normal, if not for what was on the basement door.

An exercise band was hanging on a hook attached to the wall just over a foot away from the door, the hook was exactly level with the doorknob.

Not even realizing what she was doing, Darci lifted the free end of the band, reached over, and looped it over the knob. It fit, but just barely, tension in the band keeping the door firmly shut. Lock or no lock that would keep someone in the basement.

Mary was almost manically snapping more pictures now, shaking hands barely able to hold her phone up “Holy shit holy shit holy shit!” she hissed.

Darci forced herself to reach out and slip the band off the door, needing to see the scratches again, even though their image was already burned into her retinas. To force her brain to accept the fact that what Darci was looking at was real.

Looking at the layers of claw marks again something else clicked.

Something that made Darci start to feel physically ill.

How low they were on the door. How tightly clustered the marks were.

Whoever had been locked in the basement had been tiny .

“Oh my god,” Mary whispered “It was Jim...”

It took Darci a few seconds to actually process what Mary had said “What are you talking about?”

“The weird curfew, the way he freaked out when he was late, what do you think!”

Darci immediately wanted to say something denying that, but all she could do was stand there with her jaw hanging open.

This house looked fairly new, twenty, thirty years old tops. And Jim said he’d lived here since he was born, that still left a ten year gap when someone else lived here and could have left the marks….

No. The marks didn’t look brand new, but they didn’t look thirty years old either. If she had to guess Darci would say they were made about ten years ago. Right about the time Jim would have been in elementary school.

And the hook with the band, those were definitely a recent thing.

A wave of cold dizziness washed over her. Her head was light and her knees went weak. Darci still couldn’t believe this was real, she didn’t want to believe this was real. She was barely aware of Mary looking frantically back and forth between her phone and the door. These things were only supposed to happen to far off strangers on the news and in magazines. Not here right in front of her face, not to someone she went to school with every day.

How had they not noticed-- how had she not noticed? All the weird rules, the crazy hours, why had it taken this long to put it together? And according to Toby this had been going for years, years for crying out loud! How could Jim have lived through years of...this...

Darci was so out of it she barely noticed the sound of footsteps from behind the bathroom door.

Heavy adult footsteps.

Adrenaline surged, snapping Darci out of her state of shock. Lightning fast, she shoved the basement door shut with her left hand and grabbed Mary’s arm with the right. Ignoring her friend’s squawk of protest and yanking her away from the basement. Just before the bathroom door swung open and out came--

“Hi girls, you having fun with your card game?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” Mary said chipperly.

Darci was beyond grateful that Mary could still act casual after what they’d seen. It was all she could do to force a smile on her face and nod, desperately hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“Well don’t mind me, I just came down here because there was a line upstairs,” Dr. Lake flashed them a smile before turning and heading towards the staircase “Now it’s back to bed for me,”

Without warning Mary shoved two mocktail glasses into Darci’s hands, picking up the other three herself “We’ll just grab our drinks and get back to our game,”

Dr. Lake spared them a quick nod as she went up the stairs “Sounds good, and help yourselves to anything you need,”

“Will do,” Mary replied, herding Darci towards the living room.

It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

Standing in front of them in pajamas and slippers, Jim’s mom seemed so nice, so normal , how could she be the type of person who would…

Darci took one final glance at the door as they walked by, catching a brief glimpse of the scratches, confirming that she hadn’t just hallucinated it.

“Don’t worry, I still have the pictures,” Mary whispered, barely audible, into her ear.

Oh. That’s right. Darci was so busy being shell shocked she’d forgotten all about that.

Stepping back into the living room she saw that everyone else was already there and waiting.

“Hey guys,” Toby piped up “You ready to get started”

“Totally,” Mary said while passing out mocktails, if Darci didn’t know better she would have believed the enthusiasm in Mary’s voice was genuine.

“Darci?”

All eyes were on her, expectantly waiting for a reply.

“Yeah...you’d better believe it...”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Mindlessly putting down cards when she was called to, not even bothering to read what was on them.

Mainly she was focused on trying not to stare at Jim. To turn to him and ask why. Why hadn’t Jim said anything, why hadn’t he asked any of them for help? They’d sat next to each other every day at lunch for six months and he’d never let on that any of this was happening. Did he think no one would believe him, or was he scared of what his mom would do if he told? She would have thought that they trusted each other enough by now, so why...

The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth as her teeth cut into her tongue with the force Darci was biting it. If she started now there would be no stopping the flood. Right now Darci just had to get through this afternoon and talk about what she’d seen with Mary later. That meant she needed to stay calm, keep her head on. Not giving in to the urge to scream ‘What the hell?!’ at Jim every time she saw him out of the corner of her eye. And it didn’t help that she had to fight the urge to jump every time she heard Dr. Lake moving upstairs. Not. At. All.

Their game seemed to drag on so long that Darci thought it would never end, but eventually it did, not soon enough and far too early at the same time. She joined the other’s in cleaning up, moving like she was in a fog. Robotically picking up stray cards and putting away dirty dishes. And soon, far too soon, Jim was shutting the door behind them.

What would happen to him now that the door was shut and they were gone?

Toby jogged over to his own house, gazing forlornly at the plastic pail in Claire’s arms as he waved goodbye. Dacri jerkily raised her hand and moved it from side to side in an effort to mirror the gesture. Something that Mary pulled off much better and Claire didn’t even have to fake.

Lucky her.

Claire was the last one to turn away, still beaming and waving at Toby even as they rounded the turn and he vanished from sight..

“I don’t know about you guys, but we need to do that again, before next year,” she paused, no doubt waiting for them to chime in in agreement, but Darci couldn’t speak past the massive knot in her throat. And Mary looked grim and gaunt, no longer maintaining the mask she’d had for the last few hours.

When her friends didn’t reply Claire turned and faced them “Is everything ok? You’ve been pretty quiet all afternoon Darc,”

Mary stopped in her tracks, laying a hand on Claire’s shoulder to halt her as well. Darci stopped right along with them. She glanced towards Darci, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

Claire’s gaze flickered back and forth between them. Mouth crumpling into a frown when she recognized that they were in on a secret she didn’t share “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Claire…” Mary spoke up softly, she looked over at Darci for approval. Darci nodded back at her. Claire deserved to know the truth, but if Darci tried to explain she would just end up crying.

Looking grim, Mary pulled her phone out “Claire, you need to see this…”

#Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #a secret's worth #rmvwrites #darci scott #claire nuñez #jim lake jr #mary wang #toby domzalski #Barbara Lake

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orangeoctopi7 · 5 years ago

Text

A Turning Point

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Part 10

The morning broke clear and bright. Stan had plenty of experience sleeping on the ground, so he was actually well-rested. When the first piercing birdsongs woke him, he sat up, stretched, and looked around at his compatriots. Of course, they were both still sound asleep. That wasn't surprising. McGucket had really worn himself out yesterday, and Ford had apparently learned to appreciate sleep over the past decade or so, given how grumpy he was every time Stan woke him.

Actually, this was probably Stan's best opportunity to talk to McGucket about what had happened to Ford yesterday. He hated to wake the guy after he'd obviously been working so hard, but it wasn't like they'd be able to talk about it in the car later, and frankly, Stan wanted to have this conversation sooner rather than later. He leaned over and poked the inventor's sleeping bag.

"Hey, hey Fidds, wake up!" He whispered.

Fiddleford poked his head out and blinked awake blearily.

"Whoa! What happened to your face!?" Stan yelped in surprise, forgetting to keep his voice down.

"Wha? What's wrong wi'my face!?" McGucket panicked into full wakefulness and started patting his cheeks.

"You grew a full beard overnight!"

"Oh." The inventor calmed down immediately. "That's normal. I got a genetic condition, makes my facial hair grow three times faster'n average. Is that all you woke me up for?"

"No, the beard just caught me off-guard. I wanted to talk about what happened with Ford yesterday in the UFO."

Fiddleford glanced over at Stanford. Luckily Stanley's outburst hadn't woken him. "Alright. Lemme grab my shaving kit, we'll talk outside of camp."

They found a low-hanging branch a few meters outside of camp where McGucket could hang his mirror and a small bucket of water.

"It jus' didn't seem like the sorta thing Ford would do." He explained as he lathered up some shaving cream. "When we was in University together, he never put much stock in that metaphysical, in-tune-with-the-universe type stuff, despite the fact that he was subscribed to every cryptid publication in the country."

"Yeah, he didn't believe in that stuff when we were kids either. I mean, our mom was a phony psychic, we knew all that stuff was crap."

"Well, apparently not. Somethin' led him to that engine room, and given what all I've seen here, I ain't even that surprised anymore."

"Oh, something led him there alright, but I don't think it was the universe or whatever. I think he was actually communicating with something."

Fiddleford turned pale and almost nicked himself with his razor. "Ford mentioned ghosts. Y'don't reckon those aliens are still… y'know, still around?"

"What? No." Stan explained how a strange new version of his spider-sense had been bothering him since he first arrived in Gravity Falls. How it always seemed to be centered around Ford. How he'd used the light filtration goggles to try and figure out what it was, and seen the little one-eyed yellow triangle depicted all over the house come out of Ford's head.

"So you think Ford's been in contact with that creepy cryptid?"

"Yeah, isn't it obvious? I've seen the thing twice now!"

"Hmm, it'd certainly explain a few things… but any two points make a line."

"You can't seriously think it's just a coincidence!"

"Now calm down, I ain't saying I don't believe ya. There's certainly some kinda correlation. I'm just sayin' we need more data."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I tried to ask Ford about it while you were gone. All I got outta him was that it's some sorta knowledge-giver. Then that twingey sense came back and he clammed up. I think that thing showed up and told him not to spill the beans."

"I'm afraid I don't know much about it myself." Fiddleford frowned, carefully shaving all the hairs off his upper lip. "It's a symbol that's been found all over the world. I do know it's been found on a lotta Native American artefacts here in the valley. Maybe if you spoke to an expert like a tribal elder or historian, they'd be able to tell you what it is."

"Yeah, well, whatever it is, I don't think it's a new development. You remember what he said back there about a little help from a friend? He said the same thing before about getting around a roadblock in his studies after he first found the UFO. And while you were on vacation, he kinda implied he wasn't up here alone before you moved in. I think this has been going on for a while. Maybe even years. Did you ever notice anything weird right after you moved in?"

"Other than that creepy triangle symbol everywhere? Not really…"

"What are you two doing out here?" Ford asked behind them. They both jumped; they'd been so deep in their conversation, they hadn't noticed him coming their way.

"Jehosaphat, Ford!" McGucket pressed his thumb over where he'd nicked his cheek. "Don't sneak up on us like that!"

"Well maybe you two shouldn't sneak off without telling me!" Ford shot back.

"What? Heh, we didn't sneak off." Stan assured him with a nervous chuckle. "I was just, uh, watching Fidds here shave. Wow, you really have to shave that much every day?"

"Heh, yep, either that or I'll have a beard as long as a necktie by the end of the month."

Ford looked at them both skeptically. "You're sure you weren't discussing anything behind my back?"

"PCH, no!" Stan scoffed forcefully.

Ford didn't look convinced. "Stan, I need your help gathering all our equipment back up. Fiddleford, once you're done, I expect you to come help too."

* * *

Once they were all packed up, Ford suggested taking a short-cut back to the truck, following some sort of game trail. The others went along with him, if only because they felt bad about talking behind his back earlier.

It was a peaceful morning, until Stan heard a strange rumbling sound coming from further down the trail. He halted in his tracks.

"What is it?" Ford asked.

"Sounds like something's on the trail that way." Stan explained. "Maybe we should go around."

"I'll go check it out." Ford took another step forward.

"Uh, Ford, maybe you should let the guy with super strength go check it out." McGucket suggested.

"You really think I'm going to let Stanley have all the fun just because he has super powers?" Ford scoffed and forged ahead.

The two of them waited about five minutes before Ford returned, an eager grin on his face and his Journal out, ready to take notes.

“You two have to see this! Come on!” He whispered excitedly, waving them down the path.

A few meters down the path, around a clump of trees, Ford stopped, pointing at what first appeared to be a pile of fungus-encrusted boulders. When it moved up and down slowly, they realized it was a sleeping creature, and a closer look revealed long tusks, sharp claws, and huge pointed ears.

“I can’t believe we actually found a Gremloblin!” The scientist continued giddily. “This is one of the most rare creatures in all of Gravity Falls, I’ve only ever heard tales of them from the gnomes, it’s much uglier than I expected! Supposedly, if you look into its eyes, you’ll see your worst fear.”

Fiddleford gulped. “How about we leave it be, then.”

Ford scoffed. “Don’t worry, it’s fast asleep. I may never get another opportunity to study this creature up close!” He sat down and began sketching.

“Hey, y’know what’d be faster? Just take a picture and let’s get out of here.” Stan suggested.

“I didn’t bring a camera.” Ford said simply.

“Are you kidding me? We practically packed everything but the kitchen sink, and you didn’t bring a camera!?” Stan hissed.

“I don’t want any photographic record of Crash Site Omega. And besides, I like to sketch.”

“Well I like to not be attacked by a hulking beast that’ll show your worst fear. Let’s go before it wakes up!”

Ford rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to wake up! They’re supposed to be very heavy sleepers, it should be fine as long as none of us disturb it.”

“P-please, Ford, let’s just move along and not tempt fate.” Fiddleford pleaded, cowering behind a large tree.

“We can go as soon as I finish this sketch.” Ford assured them.

And so they sat there for a few minutes; the only sounds were the scratching of Ford’s pen and the Gremloblin’s rumbling snores. Just as the researcher was taking note of the grooved claws, and theorizing about their function, a high-pitched whistle pierced the air. Fiddleford, who had been carrying the hyperdrive, had been clutching the device so tightly in his anxiety, that he'd set off some sort of alarm. He banged his fist against the machine, trying to stop the noise, but it was too late.

The Gremloblin awoke with a snarl and pounced at McGucket, immediately scooping him up in its claws and staring into his eyes. Both the monster and the inventor's eyes took on a pale yellow glow.

"I told you. I told you this would happen!" Stan yelled at his brother.

"Not the time, Stanley!" Ford snapped back. The first thing he could think to do was throw the nearest object at the beast to distract it. The nearest object just so happened to be his canteen, as he'd just been drinking from it. The lid hadn't been screwed on tight, and water splashed all over the creature as the container bonked off its head.

The Gremloblin was distracted enough that it looked away from McGucket, but it didn't let him go. Instead, the creature flexed as it grew enormous spines, quills, and wings out of its back. With a mighty flap, it was airborne, a still whimpering McGucket in its claws.

"Way to go, genius." Stan snarked, strapping on his web shooters and swinging after the monster through the trees.

"Stan, wait, you don't know what this thing is capable of!" Ford shouted after him.

"Obviously you don't either!" Stan shouted over his shoulder.

Ford grit his teeth as he sprinted after them, branches and thorns tearing at his clothes and skin. Stan couldn't wait just thirty seconds for him to explain that the monster's claws were probably poisonous, or that its head was relatively unprotected. He couldn't even slow down to let his brother explain these things as they ran. No. He had to swing ahead with no plan and no idea of what he was up against.

Ford was about to lose sight of the Gremloblin, when Stan webbed up the monster's wings. It plummeted to the ground with a screech, crashing to the ground at the top of a nearby cliff. The researcher picked up the pace as he watched his brother tackle the creature. In the scuffle, it dropped McGucket and the hyperdrive, but the two combatants also careened over the edge.

"Stanley!!" Ford cried, rushing through the trees to the foot of the cliff. When he finally broke through the underbrush, he found his brother fighting hand-to-hand with the Gremloblin. Stan had already sustained a few scrapes across his forearms, and it looked like he was trying to box the creature into submission. It wasn't going well.

Stan's movements and superhuman reflexes seemed to be slowing, and the monster got another swing in at him, raking its claws across his chest.

Ford cast his eyes about frantically, searching for some way he could help. A glint of light at the top of the cliff caught his eye. It was the hyperdrive! It was sitting just near the edge of the cliff, right above the Gremloblin's head. He pulled out his magnet gun and took aim.

"Stanley, step back!" Ford warned his brother as he pulled the trigger. The hyperdrive zipped off the cliff face and collided with the Gremloblin's head, narrowly avoiding Stan. The Gremloblin fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out-cold.

"Are you ok?" The researcher asked as he rushed up to his brother in concern.

"Fine, fine." Stan waved him off with one hand, holding the other arm to the scrape across his chest.

"Good." Ford smacked him upside the head. "What were you thinking, knucklehead? You could've gotten yourself or Fiddleford killed!"

"There wasn't time to think, genius, I had to do something before that monster flew off with Fidds!"

"Yes, the fact that you weren't thinking is obvious." Ford growled. "Come on, we need to make sure Fiddleford is alright."

They were able to scale the cliff in a matter of seconds with the web shooters. McGucket was curled up in the fetal position, quivering with fear and babbling frantically to no one in particular.

"Fiddleford!" Stanford rushed to his friend's side.

"D-don't take 'em away, I ain't h-hurt n-nobody… I ain't… I ain't like that… n-no don't! ... he's jus' a boy… n-needs his daddy…"

"It's ok, you're safe now." Ford tried to hold his friend's hand reassuringly, but McGucket didn't seem able to grasp it. He didn't even seem to notice his friends were there. He just continued muttering like he was in the midst of a nightmare.

Ford frowned and gently took his friend's arm, carefully feeling for injuries.

"It's broken." He shot a glare over his shoulder at Stan.

"What's that look for!?" Stan asked.

"He wouldn't have been injured if you hadn't forced the Gremloblin to crash land!"

Stan gave an exasperated snort. "Look, I had to act fast or that thing was gonna get away with Fidds, so I took a risk. I'd like to see you do any better in the same position!"

"Well I didn't get a chance to do any better because you rushed off without me!"

"Again, no time! And news flash, genius, this wouldn't've happened if you had just moved on and left the giant monster alone like we told you to!"

Ford scoffed and carefully lifted McGucket off the ground. "How was I supposed to know the alarm was still active? It would have been fine, otherwise."

"You're unbelievable." Stan rolled his eyes and leaned down to pick up the hyperdrive, but instead he… missed.

"...Huh…" Stan rubbed his eyes and tried to pick up the machine again. Once again, he just grabbed the air beside it.

"Stanley, did you hit your head in the fight?"

"No, mom, I didn't hit my head! I just got a headache, it's makin' my vision a little blurry is all."

Ford looked him over in concern, noting that many of the claw marks the Gremloblin had given Stan had broken the skin.

"I believe the Gremloblin's claws may be poisonous. You're probably suffering the side effects of some sort of toxin. Come on, we need to get you both back to the lab for treatment as soon as possible. Here, hold out your arms."

Stan held out his arms uncertainly. Ford carefully transferred McGucket into them. "I'll carry the hyperdrive for now. Let me know if you feel like you're going to drop him."

"What about the rest of our gear?" Stan asked. "We left it back in the clearing where you found that thing."

"We'll have to come back for it later." Ford assured him. "It'll only slow us down now, and besides, the hyperdrive is the only thing I'd be really worried about leaving out in the open."

As they made their way down the mountain, Ford found he needed to steer Stanley out of the way of trees or rocks with increasing frequency. At least he could still walk. Fiddleford remained catatonic, and the researcher doubted he could carry both his brother and his friend.

* * *

In the end, they managed to get home before Stan passed out. After doing his best to treat McGucket for shock, Ford took a blood sample to try and determine what kind of toxin the Gremloblin had in its claws. It was a neurotoxin, but thankfully, it seemed that Stan's spider powers had already developed an antitoxin to combat it. He'd be fine after a good night's rest.

It took another hour or so to treat both their wounds, and by the time he finished they were both fast asleep. He was quite eager to join them. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"SHEESH, WHAT A DAY, AM I RIGHT?" Ford was too tired to even be surprised by Bill's visit. “ALL THE WORK TO GET THE HYPERDRIVE, AND THEN YOU HAVE TO DROP THE THING ON A GREMLOBLIN’S HEAD.”

"An unqualified disaster, yes." Ford agreed. "But at least no lasting damage was done, and we got the hyperdrive back in one piece."

"TRUE, BUT ALL OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED."

Ford felt his temper flare. It was bad enough that Stanley was blaming him for all of this, now Bill had to lay on the guilt too?

"It is my job to study the anomalies in this valley! Excuse me for trying to do it!"

"OH, THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Bill laughed. "YOU WERE RIGHT EARLIER. YOU COULD HAVE DONE BETTER, IF YOU'D HAD THE CHANCE. IT'S LIKE I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU, STANFORD. YOU'D MAKE A MUCH BETTER HERO THAN YOUR BROTHER. YOU WOULD HAVE STOPPED AND THOUGHT ABOUT YOUR OPTIONS. YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN TO LOOK OUT FOR THE GREMLOBLIN'S CLAWS. YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO ATTACK ITS WINGS WHILE IT WAS FLYING. YOU WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN YOUR ASSISTANT'S ARM BROKEN."

"Well, maybe so." Ford nodded in agreement. "But I'm still not sure if I want that kind of responsibility…. I'm not sure I want to change like that."

"I GET IT, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE EVEN MORE OF A FREAK THAN YOU ALREADY ARE. UNDERSTANDABLE." Bill patted him on the head like someone might pet a dog. "DON'T WORRY, I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THAT. IT SHOULD BE ARRIVING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS."

"You… ordered something for me in the mail?" Ford asked in confusion.

"HAHAH, NOT EXACTLY, BUT I GUESS THAT'S THE CLOSEST APPROXIMATION YOU FLESH BAGS HAVE."

“Bill, I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I really don’t know--”

“OH COME ON, SIXER, AFTER I WENT THROUGH THE TROUBLE TO FIND THIS THING AND SEND IT YOUR WAY, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS TRY IT OUT! AND YOU’VE GOT THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS TO DECIDE IF YOU REALLY WANT IT.”

“Well, I suppose that’s alright… and if it’s something that doesn’t cause a physical change in me, I don’t see why I couldn’t at least give it a try.”

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT, SIXER! TRUST ME, YOU'RE GONNA WANT IT! YOU'LL BE THE KIND OF HERO THIS WORLD DESERVES!"

GI GUGFOVUC PPNTZY, SHB V’BX BVNZQ OM WRA PNBX MFZM JKBLU CALIAICBOVITF JVLR KYZVPBF. SHLV NOTXXMJVDR HXBRIQBX, EYJF ARRY WFABEUE, U KRVQKGWP GW QU ZIFSG QGGWVF QA VNVCVK… V’S LOIR QG’Y GIKUQAM LNRANBXW HVRLF ZH EEBE NHHOK.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Fiddleford Mcgucket #Bill Cipher #My Writing #Spider Stan AU #SpiderStan AU

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years ago

Text

A God Of Stone

"Boss, you have an incoming call from the Doctor."

"Yup." The line clicks over the speakers. "Hey Honey. I thought you were at-"

"Tony. I need help." Stephen interrupts, sounding a little out of breath. "Some rogue sorcerer's summoned a monster and I can't handle both it and the rogues."

Tony goes toward the window and taps his housing unit before jumping out the window, the phone call automatically transferring to his suit. He asks FRIDAY to send the rest of the Avengers to Stephen's location (sans Peter and Harley since they were at school), and as soon as he finds his husband, he lands in front of him and fires his repulsors at the monster. The rest of the team arrive little by little, the first ones being Wanda and Vision. In fact, everyone arrived before Quill and Scott. Which was kind of surprising since those two were usually one of the first ones on the scene. Then again...

"Porcupine! You and Thumbelina better not be playing hide the cannoli!" Tony says over the comm.

"We didn't get that far." Quill replies back through the comm. "Thanks for that by the way."

Tony grins behind his mask as he shoots another repulsor at the monster, something the engineer was sure came straight out of a horror movie. It was like a large feral dog that was zombified and had some weird gray smoke coming out of its mouth. Not like smoke from a fire, but magical. Harley would like it.

"Tony, can you help with the rogues? I can take care of the monster." Stephen says and the elder man nods before flying off.

Stephen just needed to banish the beast, but the spell would take a few moments. As he conjures up the spell, the monster snarls dangerously and stands low to the ground, its mouth lighting up as more of the gray smoke hovered around its mouth. Stephen just needed a few more moments and then he could cast the spell, but then the beast opened its mouth. Everything happened slowly in that moment. The gray smoke collected into a condensed ball before shooting out at Stephen, and the sorcerer threw out his own spell right before he was pushed to the ground, the air rushing out of his lungs. Dazed, he watched as the condensed ball of gray, dense energy struck Quill (who had been the one to push Stephen) who get thrown onto the ground, and then the celestial jumps back up to his feet. He holds out his guns to shoot an approaching rogue, now that the monster was successfully banished, and Stephen watches in horror as the god stiffens. Stone gray covers Quill's body, leaving a perfect statue of the man after just seconds. Natasha barely runs up to the rogue in time to knock him out before he casts a spell to destroy Quill's petrified body, thus Quill himself, and then actually realizes what she had prevented and stops.

The rest of the Avengers ended up having to take care of the rest of the rogues because the Sorcerer Supreme was frozen in his position on the ground. Their resident god had pushed Stephen out of the way of a petrification spell and took it instead, and now he had turned to stone.

It should have been him.

"Oh my god." Natasha whispers as Tony flies back over to Stephen and helps him to his feet.

"Tesoro!" He gently grabs Stephen's face, and then follows the man's gaze when he doesn't get his attention. When he sees Quill's petrified form, the blood runs from his face. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

Wanda was the next to discover the group and she immediately covered her mouth. One by one, the team gathered together and discovered their frozen comrade, until finally, Scott flew over and grew to normal size as he jumped off his flying ant. He looks at them curiously when they give him looks of pity, and when they move away from Quill, Scott nearly fell to his knees in despair.

With great care, they took Quill back to the tower and placed him on the training floor, safely away from anything that could be thrown, and Stephen threw himself into his books. He was desperate to find a way to reverse Quill's petrification; not to relieve himself of his guilt, but for Scott and Cassie. Especially Scott.

He almost never left Quill's side, and constantly stood in front of the celestial to touch stone features. His hands either touching Quill's face or reaching up to touch the grooves of petrified hair.

"He's cold." Scott says quietly. "He's not supposed to be cold."

Quill ran warm, like a furnace, so it was understandable that Scott was disturbed by the feeling of cold stone. He always talked about how the celestial was the one who kept him warm at night, wrapped around Scott like his own personal living blanket. Everyone was disturbed by the sight if they were honest. Some of the team even took to training elsewhere because they couldn't stand to see Scott grieve over the celestial. Cassie was devastated as well, but she actually stayed away because it hurt her to see Quill the way he was, and how Scott was inconsolable.

"I'm looking for a way to reverse this." Stephen tells Scott one day. "If it were my husband..."

Scott looks at the sorcerer and laughs hollowly. "You know?"

Stephen points at the ring on Quill's finger, which had also turned to stone. "I saw it a few days ago but I wasn't positive until I saw yours." He then motions towards Scott's hand.

The thief looks back to his petrified husband. "Am I bad luck? My marriage with Maggie failed, nothing really happened with Hope, and now Quill..."

"No. What Quill did had nothing to do with you. He took a spell that was meant for me." Stephen says quietly. "I promise to find a way to fix this. It's the least I can do."

"...I need him."

Stephen only nodded. He knew. They all knew. They all saw the difference Quill made in Scott's life. But now he felt cold. The bed was too big, the nights too cold, and the world too big. Scott had grown so used to Quill's presence that he hated being without it. He wanted the bed to be filled by a second body, for the sometimes unbearable heat that came off Quill in waves to envelop him again, and he definitely wanted to be held again. The closest he got to any of that was to wrap his arms around the neck of his stone husband and use his imagination. An imagination that failed him. Quill was hard in all the wrong ways. He missed the firm muscles, the gentle way Quill's lips brushed against his neck. He missed his laughter, and the soft purr that came from deep in his chest when he rested. He missed everything that made Quill the person he loved and needed by his side, but all that was left was a stone shell.

A week turned into two...three...and then a full month had passed before Stephen even came across a hint of a possibility of a reversal spell. During that time, Scott had fallen into depression. He barely slept as nightmares of Quill being destroyed plagued his dreams. He ate less even though the others tried to get him to eat something, and he only ate enough to get them to stop. He lost a little bit of weight, there were dark bags under his eyes...he just looked awful. Cassie only visited once, and that was when they first brought Quill home. It wasn't because she didn't care, but because she did. Quill was as much a father to her as Scott was and she hated seeing him in stone. It was wrong to her and she almost regretted the first visit because if this wasn't fixable, that's not how she wanted to remember him. Cassie missed the security Quill provided just as much as Scott did.

As much as Scott wanted to hope that he would get Quill back, he also knew that it was only a small possibility. It might not work. He was already preparing himself for the worst outcome. It was very likely he would never get the love of his life back.

His light. In both the figurative and literal sense. Quill was a Celestial, a god of light. Something else Scott desperately missed.

"Scott...can you step aside please?" Stephen asks and the thief sighs as he nods and gives the sorcerer the space he needs.

He had come up with a spell that was supposed to turn Quill back to normal, and the main reason he needed Scott to move was because they didn't know how close the celestial was to shooting his guns. If the spell worked, Stephen didn't want anyone to get hurt. Once Scott is at a safe distance, Stephen forms the spell and sends it at Quill's chest, orange sparks spreading through the stone before disappearing.

A few seconds pass.

"Well?" Scott pleads.

Stephen remains quiet for a few more moments before looking through the few books he brought with him when nothing further happens. "Maybe I missed something. I'll keep looking."

Scott's shoulders slump in dejection. "Stephen...maybe you should get some sleep."

"I could say the same about you." Stephen replies quietly.

"I know...I know." Scott rubs his eyes. "...I'm starting to wonder if this is-"

A loud crack echoes through the room, and both Stephen and Scott look back toward the petrified man in the room. Cracks begin to spread throughout the stone and then suddenly crumble away, revealing flesh and clothing, and Quill gasps loudly. He lowers his arms and looks around the training floor in confusion, and then looks at the two other gobsmacked men in the room.

"How did I get here?" Quill asks.

A strangled noise escapes from Scott's mouth as he slowly approaches his husband, and Quill gives him a strange look when he slowly lifts a shaking hand to place on his cheek. Scott chokes on a sob when he feels warmth and soft skin, and immediately throws his arms around Quill's neck and buries his face into it. The celestial reciprocates the hug, albeit a bit confused, and Scott's skin sang at the contact. The moment strong arms finished wrapping around him, the thief basked in Quill's smell of leather and space as the coldness in his very soul was chased away.

"Did I miss something?" Quill asks Stephen, who was watching the scene with no small amount of relief.

"Do you remember being hit?"

"Yeah...then I got back up. But now I'm here."

"You were hit by a spell. One that turned you to stone."

It was then that Scott pulled one of his arms away from around Quill's neck and curled his hand into a fist to bring down on the taller man's chest. "You're not allowed to do that! You're not allowed to propose to me, to marry me, and then turn into stone! It's been a whole month you asshole!"

Then Scott properly broke down into silent tears. The moment Quill felt the wetness on his neck, he tightened his hold on Scott and brought one of his hands up to cup the back of his head. Stephen leaves after quietly letting them know that he's going to find Cassie and send her down, and the celestial pushes Scott away a couple of minutes later to look at him and wipe away his tears.

"I leave you alone for five seconds and you turn into a mess. How have you survived until now?" Quill says with a smirk and is immediately rewarded with another thud of Scott's fist against his chest.

"You're not allowed to joke about this. But to answer your stupid question...it was because I didn't know what I was missing until you." The younger thief sniffs and presses himself back up against Quill. "Please don't take that away from me again."

"I'm sorry sugar." Quill mutters into dark hair before kissing Scott's temple.

"Papa!" The pirate barely looks up in time to catch the second body that throws itself at him, and tightens his hold on both Scott and Cassie.

"We're turning into a real mess aren't we?" He asks and Scott sighs against his neck.

"We might give Tony and them a run for their money at this rate."

"I thought you were a god." Cassie sasses half-heartedly and Quill chuckles.

"I'm immortal. Not invincible. Although I can still take a bit more than everyone else can."

"Shut up Spaceman. You're ruining the moment."

Quill stares toward the elevators for a few quiet minutes and then raises an eyebrow.

"Speaking of moments, I'm pretty sure you just announced we were married to Stephen."

"He figured it out." Scott and Cassie say in unison and the Celestial's chest rumbles in amusement.

"I'm not surprised. Anyone else?"

Both of them shake their heads. No one else knew that they knew of but it wouldn't take much longer. Stephen would probably let it slip to Tony, who in turn might let it slip around one of the kids. If it ended up being Harley, then the news would spread like wildfire. Peter was almost just as bad.

"Oh wait." Cassie says and looks up at Scott and Quill with a meek expression. "Dia knows. I told her."

"Also not surprising." Quill says with another laugh.

#peter quill #scott lang #antlord #ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #cassie lang #mama bear stephen strange #peter parker #harley keener #diana stark strange (oc)#natasha romanov #wanda maximoff

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kimdoyoungiee · 6 years ago

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somehow

Genre/Summary: 5 times Taeyong got drunk and came to you and 1 time you got drunk and he still came to you. Member: Taeyong/Reader Word Count: 4,217 A/N: i went out drinking and had a thought about taking care of a drunk boy, plus i was trying to get back into the groove of writing so here this is. hopefully it’s decent? enjoy ^^

Debut.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Of course I know- but your boyfriend is drunk out of his mind and wanted to see you. Will you come get him?” You groan as you turn over, already wanting to hang up the phone. You had work in the morning, and knowing your boyfriend, you were going to be up for the next two hours just trying to get him to sleep.

He was a bit much to handle when he was drunk.

“Y/N, he’s starting to cry so give me an answer.” You sigh but end up sitting up in your bed anyways. Two less hours of sleep in favor of seeing your boyfriend wasn’t such a bad trade off, even if he was drunk.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell him I’m coming to see him.”

A change of clothes and a ten-minute car ride later, you end up outside a quiet restaurant, save for the six boys laughing and talking happily in front of it, no doubt because of the day they had. You smile as you step out of your car, waving at them when one of the boys notices you.

“Oh, Y/N-

“Y/N?!” Your boyfriend looks up at you when he hears your name, and upon actually seeing you breaks into a huge grin, one you don’t see often, before drunkenly bounding over to you. “Baby- baby!” You nearly fall over at the sudden weight crashing into you but manage to keep you and him upright as he hugs you tightly to him. “Baby, you’re here- I- I wanted to see you so bad- did you see us? Did you see our debut? Was I cool? I think I messed up once but- but- Did you see?”

“Taeyong, who do you think I am? Of course I saw you,” you tell your boyfriend. “You were cool and handsome and I didn’t see you mess up at all, honestly. You were like, the coolest one on stage.”

Taeyong giggles in such a cute manner that you can’t help but giggle as well, even when you see the look on his groupmates faces. How could you not? He was so damn adorable, even more so when he was drunk. He didn’t hold back any emotions when he was drunk, totally opposite of everything he held back when he was sober. You’d be lucky if you could get multiple smiles out of him sober.

Though, even if he was like that, you still liked him a lot, sober or drunk.

“Baby, can we celebrate later? I wanna celebrate with you- be-because Doyoung kept taking drinks from me- and Mark- Mark can’t drink-

“Yeah, sure. We can celebrate your debut later. But I should get you home first, yeah?” Taeyong pulls away and puts his hands on your face, pulling you in for a short kiss.

“Let’s- let’s go to your house, okay?” Taeyong leans in, pressing his lips to your ear. “The other guys are gonna make me sleep- I want to stay up with you. Don’t make me go home with them, baby. Baby, okay?”

You laugh and nod your head, pressing your own kiss to the side of Taeyong’s head. “Fine, we can go to my house.”

“Take care of him then, Y/N,” you hear Doyoung say. Taeil, another of his groupmates, gives you a thumbs up from where he is, and you roll your eyes at the rest of the group.

“You guys don’t need a ride home or anything?”

“No, no. We’re walking home, so go ahead. Just make sure he gets to work on time tomorrow.”

“Yeah yeah. Come on, Taeyong.” You begin helping Taeyong over to your car, struggling a little too much with his lack of cooperation.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N. Baby. Baby, are you listening?” Taeyong asks when you finally get to your car.

“Mmhmm. What?”

“I love you so much. I love you more than- more than… I don’t know. I love you- oh.” Taeyong suddenly pushes you away and you stumble into your car. You frown at him in confusion until you see him on his knees, throwing up right next to your tires. You sigh before getting on your knees next to him, rubbing at his back to help him in some way.

Somehow, you were okay with doing this rather than sleeping.

Pressure.

You hear a knock on your door as you’re watching T.V, at some odd hour that people shouldn’t be disturbing other people, and promptly ignore it. You were absolutely comfortable in your spot on your couch, your show was getting intense right now, and whatever asshole had the wrong place could figure it out without you telling them.

“What were you thinking?!”

“I didn’t think it was a problem!”

The knocking suddenly returns, louder and sounding more frantic than the last time, and you quickly pause your show and turn around to look at your front door. Maybe you really did have to tell the asshole at your door he had the wrong place. You frown and look back at your T.V. Talking to them required getting up and socializing, and that sounded just terrible right now when your show was waiting for you.

But the knocking still persists, so you suck it up and stand up, heading over to the door. You unlock it and open it up, your eyes widening when you see your boyfriend in tears on the other side.

“Taeyong? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

“Why weren’t you answering- I really- I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour- I thought something happened,” Taeyong says as he falls into your arms, and you reel back at the scent of alcohol that’s attached to him. Somehow, this feels like déjà vu.

“My phone was charging and I was watching my show- what about you? Did something happen? You reek of alcohol…” Taeyong just clings onto you even more, sniffling into your shirt.

“Do you think I’m a bad leader?” He asks.

“No? Why would I think- let’s go sit down and talk, okay? I don’t want to talk about this while standing up.” Taeyong mumbles his agreement and allows you to help him over to the couch, where he plops right down into the spot you had been in. You almost want to complain about it, but Taeyong was drunk and sensitive, and saying anything ridiculously petty like that was only going to make it worse.

You could give up your seat for him. It was okay.

You instead take a pillow off the couch and put it on the ground before sitting on it. Taeyong looks at you, sniffling again before reaching for one of your hands to hold. You entwine your fingers together and smile at him, encouraging him to talk.

“You’re so- you’re so cute. Your smile always makes me feel better,” Taeyong says, squeezing your hand.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. What’s got you down though? Did something happen at work or…?” Taeyong shakes his head and sniffles again.

“We- we were just drinking in the dorm together- but then Yuta and Haechan started joking around... I’m sure I was just- I was overreacting but they didn’t have to- I’m so pathetic, Y/N. I shouldn’t even- I shouldn’t be the leader. I’m a bad role model- I’m a terrible person.”

Taeyong starts sobbing, probably continuing what he had started earlier, and you frown in return. You weren’t exactly sure what you should say, let alone how to comfort him when he was drunk and wasn’t going to listen to much reason.

You had to try something though. You didn’t want to see Taeyong cry. You wanted to see him smiling.

“Yongie, hey. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I don’t think you’re pathetic or a terrible person. That counts for something, right?” Taeyong sniffles and shrugs at you. It didn’t really seem to help. “Okay, well- you’re wrong. You’re not pathetic or a terrible person. I know tons of people who would say you’re the best leader and a great role model, including Yuta and Haechan.”

“How do you know?” Taeyong asks. You squeeze his hand and smile.

“Because I think badly about myself too, but you think I’m great, don’t you?” Taeyong nods his head. “And other people think I’m great. I feel like a bunch of people with the same opinion is more accurate than one person with a different opinion, right? Besides, we’re all our own worst critic, so-

“Yeah. I-I get it.”

“Yeah? Then you’ll stop crying and smile for me?” Taeyong frowns and shakes his head.

“My smile isn’t-

“Your smile is wonderful, shush. If my smile makes you feel better, then yours makes me feel like I’m flying. I love your smile.”

“I love you,” Taeyong says, tears falling from his eyes once more. But, even through them, he smiles at you.

Somehow, seeing that smile was better than watching a drama.

Argument.

“Hello?”

“Come get Taeyong.” You frown at your phone before hanging up on Doyoung. You were absolutely not going to get Taeyong. Taeyong was a jerk who you weren’t going to talk to until he apologized.

And Doyoung could go fuck himself. Just because he was Taeyong’s best friend didn’t mean you had to listen to him. He was a jerk too.

Your phone rings in your hand and you look down at it, raising an eyebrow at the caller. If Mark called, it was usually an important question, but at the same time you and Taeyong were fighting, so he could easily be calling to talk about that.

You let it ring a few times before ultimately picking it up, putting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Taeyong is really drunk right now and is crying about you… I think you should come get him. He sounds like he wants to make up.” Mark says all this with a tone that makes it had to refuse him and you sigh. How could you when his intentions were so pure? Unlike Doyoung, who just wanted drunk, whiny Taeyong off his hands.

But, even if Mark had good intentions, you couldn’t just give in so easily. Taeyong was in the wrong, and he needed to apologize before you could forgive him or see him. “Sorry, Mark, but I’m not going. He can be dropped off or something, but I’m not going to him.”

“Okay, I under- hey!” There seems to be a scuffle on the other side of the phone, and you hear your name called multiple times as you listen in. Mark tries to tell you what’s happening, but before he can really say anything, there’s another voice breaking through.

“Baby I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry, please do-don’t be mad anymore.” You roll your eyes at Taeyong’s voice and sigh into your phone.

You thought you were strong, but hearing his crying voice made it really hard to be mad at him.

“You can’t just wish away my anger, Taeyong. I mean, do you actually feel sorry or are you just saying it because you don’t want me being mad at you anymore?”

Taeyong is silent for a long moment, probably not even comprehending what you’re asking, and you end up sighing again. “Sober up and then maybe think a little more on it, okay? I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, baby- no- I’m sorry.” Taeyong mumbles something else into the phone, something that doesn’t make sense at all and you figure Taeyong really doesn’t understand your question nor what he should be apologizing for.

You sigh again and then hang up.

No one tries to call you back after that, and for the rest of the night, you go about quietly, doing chores, fixing dinner, and washing up until you’re left sitting on the couch as you dry off your hair.

And then there’s a knock on the door. You look behind you, feeling like another wave of déjà vu was hitting you. Was this sort of thing becoming a habit? If so, Taeyong really needed to stop.

Another knock hits, and you stand up, walking towards the door. You unlock it, twist the knob, pull it open, and sigh when you see Taeyong on the other side.

“You hung up on me-

“Yeah, because you weren’t really apologizing,” you interrupt. Taeyong frowns and steps forward, putting his hands on your face.

“If you didn’t hang up you would’ve heard what I was saying- now I’ve sobered up and this is so much worse than when I’m drunk-

“Maybe you shouldn’t wait until you’re drunk to offer up your emotions to me, Taeyong.” You swat Taeyong’s hands away and step back, leaving him room to enter your apartment. You didn’t really want to have an argument in the hallway if it came to that.

Taeyong seems to understand though and steps forward, closing the door behind him. He shakes off his shoes and takes a few more steps forward before putting his arms out towards you.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you. I was being selfish- I get it, you know? We both have work and I can’t be mad at you when you’re working when I’m not. I just- It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other I just wanted to be with you.”

“You acted like I didn’t want to be with you too. As if I wanted to go to work instead of being with you,” you say. Taeyong nods his head, and then drops his arms, realizing you weren’t going to just fall into them right away.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was getting the day off in advance- I’m sorry I’m bad at communicating with you, I’m working on it. I’m working on everything that’s wrong with me Y/N, and I shouldn’t be bringing you down as I do it. I’m really sorry.”

There’s silence between you, but not for long as you step closer to Taeyong and wrap your arms around him. You could tell he was being sincere, so was there any reason to be mad at him still?

“You should show that much emotion more often,” you say. Taeyong wraps his own arms around you and buries his face in your hair, nodding his head.

“I know.”

Somehow, everything turned out okay after fights like those.

Rookie.

You’re impatient. So incredibly impatient. You’re impatient because your boyfriend and his group won rookie of the year a few hours ago and he was crying on TV and you’re sure it was such a big happy moment for him and you wanted to congratulate him and tell him how proud you were.

But he wasn’t picking up his phone and he wasn’t responding to his texts and it was getting late. You had no doubt he was celebrating their win, but you just wanted to send your well wishes, even if it just took two seconds of his time before you went to bed.

Why couldn’t he just pick up his phone?

Unfortunately, he continues to not pick up his phone, and eventually, your tiredness gets the better of you and sends you off to sleep.

You’re impatient, but you could wait for him to get back to you. He had every right to celebrate with his groupmates before he responded to you. It was okay.

You fall asleep thinking about how you needed to work on being more patient.

Sometime in the middle of the night, however, your phone starts ringing and you blink awake, reaching for it wherever it was. You blink a few times, trying to make out the name, but in the end just answer it, too lazy to figure out who was calling so late.

“Hello?”

“Baby- baby we won- we won!” You pull the phone away at Taeyong’s loud voice, blinking a few more times to try and make out the buttons on your phone. When you see the speaker button, you press it, and place the phone on your pillow.

“Bab- are you there?”

“Mmhmm. Was just putting you on speaker.”

“Oh- okay. Baby, hey- sorry for not- I’m sorry for not answering you sooner- were you watching? Because I-I wanted to tell you first. Are you proud of me?” Taeyong is already crying, and you can already imagine that it was probably a mixture of drinking and the overwhelming emotions from the events earlier that night.

At least he was happy.

“Of course I’m proud. You guys worked hard and you- you worked soooo hard, Yongie. You deserve that win,” you say. You hear a sniffle on the other end, and you smile. “Yongie, don’t cry too much. You should be smiling.”

“I am- I’m just crying- I’m so happy and I miss you- I want to see you baby.”

“When you come back we’ll see each other. Can you wait for that?” Taeyong sniffles again, and you feel like he’s definitely nodding on the other end. How adorable.

“Can we just talk? I want to hear your voice- I want to be with you right now,” Taeyong asks. You nod your head yourself, just like your adorable boyfriend.

“I might fall asleep though,” you say.

“Oh- then I’ll let you sleep- I’m sorry for w-waking you up, Y/N-

“It’s okay. I’m awake now, so let’s keep talking.”

“Okay. Okay. Oh- did you know our manager cried too?”

Somehow, you manage to stay awake talking to Taeyong for five more extra minutes.

New Year.

“You look mad.” You look over at one of your friends and roll your eyes. “What? Are you not mad?”

“No, of course I’m mad. You just don’t have to point out obvious things,” you say. You fold your arms tightly against your chest, frowning towards the street as you fume.

Taeyong was supposed to be meeting up with you after your shift at one of your jobs so that the two of you could spend some part of New Years together, but he was late. Two minutes had passed, five minutes has passed, and then, eventually an hour later and there was still nothing from Taeyong. You had waited a whole hour and he still hadn’t shown up.

Of course you were pissed.

“You ready to go grumpy pants?” You sigh and nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s go. Might as well go sulk at my place than out here in the stupid cold,” you say, standing up. Your friend and you walk over to her car and get in. The drive home is pretty silent, and you only feel more upset the more Taeyong doesn’t contact you.

Not coming to pick you up was one thing, but not responding when you were supposed to be together was another thing. Maybe he got busy all of a sudden with his company. Or maybe he forgot you were supposed to be spending time together today.

Either way you look at it, you just get more angry.

“Hey, Y/N, we’re here. You getting out?”

“Yeah, thanks for the ride,” you say, opening your door.

“No problem. See you next week,” your friend says. You give her a thumbs up before shutting your door, and then begin walking up to your apartment. You slowly trek up the stairs, trying to blow off some steam before you got to your place.

It sort of works, until you open the hallway door and see Taeyong in the middle of it, sitting right outside your door. You frown, walking over to him and seeing he was passed out.

Half of you wants to leave him out here to suffer, but the other half knows better. So you kneel down in front of him, slapping at his face gently to wake him up.

“Taeyong, wake up. Wake up now.” Taeyong doesn’t wake up and being close you can smell the alcohol on him. You frown even more, realizing he probably was celebrating before he came here.

“You big punk…” You stand up and open your door, stepping inside to put your things down. You step back outside and wrap your arms around Taeyong, dragging him through your apartment on your knees. You barely get anywhere before you collapse on your floor, but, at least it was inside your apartment. You kick the door closed, and then kick your shoes off, looking at Taeyong as you lay down next to him.

“I think you need to work harder on that whole communication thing, Yongie.” You press a hand to his face, just to pass the time, and then sigh. He was so cute just sleeping there on the floor. He looked relaxed and happy. How could you be mad when he looked like that?

“Somehow, I’m not mad anymore.” Taeyong of course doesn’t respond, but you smile anyways. “I mean, at least you came to see me.”

Love.

“I miss him so much- you don’t understand- he’s been away for like- two weeks- two weeks! That’s way too long!”

“Haven’t you been apart longer than that…?”

“But we still saw each other- he was like twenty minutes away. Now he’s a billion million miles away- doing stupid things in stupid America- fuck- I hate it!” You shove your face into your arms, laying them down on the table you were sitting at. You feel your friend’s hand at your head, patting it gently, and you whine even more.

You wanted to feel Taeyong’s hand against your head. You wanted to see him. You wanted him to talk about his time in America and tell you about all the things he bought and tell you about all the dumb silly things his groupmates did. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted to hold his hand.

You just wanted to see Taeyong.

“Y/N, drink some more, okay? It’ll make you feel better,” your friend says. You lift your head, and then shake it.

“Don’t wanna. I’m already miserable- I’ll just feel more miserable if I drink more- I- I wanna sleep. I wanna sleep- dream of Yongie. Maybe I’ll see him in my dreams.”

“…want me to take you home then?” Your friend asks. You nod your head, and she promptly begins cleaning up the table. In a matter of minutes, you’re being helped out of the door, and into a car. Your friend drives you to your apartment, takes you up to it, and even lays you on your couch.

And before you know it, you’re all alone, throwing up into your toilet with tears rolling down your face, half because it was disgusting, and half because you really missed Taeyong.

How come when he was drunk you were always there for him, but when you were drunk, he wasn’t there for you?

“Ugh, selfish-!” You cough into the toilet, feeling even worse at such a thought. Taeyong was busy. He was working. Of course he couldn’t be here when you were drunk. He was doing more important things than dealing with something like this.

Besides, you’re sure if he knew you were like this he would be here.

He was just busy.

And you had to patient for his return back home.

Weren’t you supposed to be working on that?

Suddenly, you hear a loud knock on your door. Was it your friend? Did she forget something?

Or… maybe…?

You stand up slowly as the knocking persists, making sure you don’t upset your stomach even worse than it was and walk out of your bathroom to your front door. You unlock it, twist the knob, and open it up. Your eyes widen when you see your boyfriend standing on the other side, looking like he definitely just got off a plane. Wasn’t he supposed to be in America?

“…Taeyong?”

“Hi. You feeling okay? You friend texted me- said you were really drunk and were yelling about missing me,” Taeyong says. You shake your head, and then immediately regret it as your head spins and your stomach churns. “Y/N?”

“Come in- I’ll- oh fuck.” You rush to the bathroom as quickly as possible, your stomach upturning itself once more, the contents going into the toilet. After all your wishing of wanting to see Taeyong, he actually came, but you were going to be spending that time on your bathroom floor.

Apparently Taeyong didn’t mind though, because he comes in only moments later, kneeling next to you and pressing his hand to your back. He rubs up and down soothingly, and you remember the time when he puked next to your tires and you did the same thing for him.

It was awfully sweet, really.

“Ugh, you’re the best, you know that? I love you,” you say, turning your head to look at Taeyong. He smiles at you.

“You’d do the same thing for me, you know,” he says.

“That’s because I love you. I love you… lots. So much.”

“I love you too.”

Your stomach, being the asshole it was, decides to ruin your moment and you turn your head back towards the toilet, throwing up once more into it.

Somehow, Taeyong actually stays with you the entire time without getting sick himself.

And somehow, that makes you think that what you had was definitely something close to true love.

#nct scenarios #nct fanfic #taeyong scenarios #lee taeyong scenarios #nct imagines #lee taeyong imagines #taeyong imagines #my writing #pretty sure another ty fic will come after this one

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truthbeetoldmedia · 6 years ago

Text

iZombie 5x10 "Night in the Zombie City" Review

With just three episodes of iZombie left, we are inching closer and closer to the truth about the cure, and characters are going to more drastic measures as time ticks on.

For this week’s murder, a young sex worker and private eye detective are killed back to back. Liv eats the detective’s brain, bathing the episode in noir. Sad saxophones, light bars across the eyes, and long trench coats. A thunderstorm plays in the background for the whole episode, making every scene feel like a dark and stormy night. The power goes out in the station, giving it a 50’s black and white movie vibe. Bunny, the sex worker, was one of Candy’s girls, so the investigation naturally winds up at Don E Be Good’s. All signs point to the waitress, Jane, who ends up returning to the scene of the crime. Blaine confronts her near the bar, and right before Jane is about to shoot him, Crybaby comes in and knocks her out cold. Blaine eats her brain in hopes of finding out more, and he has a vision. The private eye detective had managed to secure a cure for Bunny, and Jane caught wind of it. Trying to steal the cure for herself, she killed both of them. Of course, getting another cure would be in Blaine’s best interest, and so he eats Jane’s brain in hopes to figure out where she stashed the cure.

Blaine and Liv cross paths at the private eye’s office while working on the case, but tensions finally boil over between the two when they are looking for the cure in the kitchen of Don E Be Good’s. Peyton gets Liv to come out drinking, and Peyton drowns her sorrows and delivers wobbly karaoke. The fun comes to an abrupt end when someone tells Peyton that she was a bad mayor. She tells him exactly what she thinks about that by sockin him right in the mouth. A huge bar fight breaks out. “Seriously? On karaoke night?” Don E moans. If only he knew the knockout, drag-out Liv and Blaine were having in the back. This is certainly not the first time that these two have come to fisticuffs, but this time it gets ugly. Crybaby intervenes again, with more intentions to kill. Right before he brings the bat down on Liv’s head, Clive comes to the rescue. Blaine throws Crybaby under the bus for Jane’s murder, which is what Blaine does, and Crybaby truly should not be shocked about it.

Peyton is also arrested. Poor girl is clearly having a hard time dealing with not being mayor anymore. Now that she’s off the hook for all of Seattle’s problems, what else does she have to do? “Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a paleontologist?” she tells Liv. “Seems hard to get fired from that job.” I hope in the next three episodes, Peyton can get her groove back, rather than taking up an extended stay in Margaritaville and getting arrested for bar fights.

Another character who has been under a lot of stress lately, as well as a new relationship, is Don E. In a bought of frustration, he calls the murders a “hassle” for business, which rubs Darcy the wrong way. Confused about what he said, Liv soothes him while sipping on hard liquor. “Dames got you dizzy, Don E. It’s what dames do.” He has a sweet moment with Candy, where she encourages him to get Darcy back, and it seems a little bit like a final goodbye. Candy has been an unsung hero of this series. She has never had a full plot on her own, unfortunately always at the mercy of the unethical men in her life. We aren’t often in tune with her thoughts and feelings, but she has been with us since the beginning. So when we see her steal the cure for herself and get on the back of a sexy motorcycle, I cheered out loud. Cue the Lucille Bluth “Good for her!” gif! Although it sets our heroes back, yet again ending an episode cure-less, I can’t help but feel like out of all the people to get one of the rare original cures, Candy deserves it the most. Be free, Candy!

Darcy agrees to speak to Don E, and she tells him that she was angry at his reaction to Bunny because his chief concern was finding a replacement for her. Darcy doesn’t have much time left, so she was worried that would be Don E’s reaction to her death as well. Don E has matured the most out of any character on this show, and so when he tells Darcy that he’s hardened by all the death in his life, but still loves her, it feels like a hard won, vulnerable moment from him. He asks Darcy to marry him, which was the perfect mix of corny and sweet. At first I was sure that we would see Darcy die by the end of the season, but I’m beginning to wonder if the show has a future for these two after all. If there’s any zombies standing after Liv and Martin’s showdown, that is.

Ravi wastes no time telling Liv the truth about her father, that he also, in fact, is Father of all Zombie-kind. In turn, she wastes no time confronting him about it. Not only is she angry that he withheld something so major, it also means he holds the key to the cure. He created the recipe for utopium that could be the solution to all their problems. He quickly tells her that he was high all the time in those days, so there’s no way he remembers the recipe. The audience knows this isn’t true, and it’s only a matter of time before Liv and the group find out. But not before Ravi lapses judgement a little and tells Martin he was testing rats with Max Rager, the energy drink that gives extreme psychological effects. When it’s paired with utopium, it turns people into zombies. Ravi explains that it stimulants the frontal cortex. Martin seems incredibly interested at this piece of information, and we found out later that Max Rager is the last piece of the puzzle that he needs to control his army.

At Fillmore Graves, Major is begging for a distraction from the negotiations with the government. His second gives him a note that the keycard system needs to be replaced. While she mentions that it’s “just boring stuff,” it turns disturbing fast. Major catches a janitor with a huge carton of Max Rager with two keycards. When Major tells him that he wants to ask him some questions, the janitor runs into a shower hook, impaling his brain rather than talk. When Ravi hears what the janitor was trying to steal, he brings up to Liv the conversation he had with Martin. Liv proposes sneaking into Martin’s house while he’s in an AA meeting, and boy do they hit the motherlode. Not only do they find the exact recipe from the night of the yacht party that created the first zombie outbreak, but they find the army too. Ravi pulls aside the curtain, hoping for an escape route, and finds a pack of Romeros staring back at him behind a cage.

Meanwhile, two of the weakest plots of the show finally meet each other and seem to resolve. As a little recap, Hi Zombie is the webseries that Peyton got fired for funding. The premise is two families move in next door to each other — one human, one zombie — and they root out all the stereotypes they have against each other. Every clip or scene we’ve seen of this show has been didactic and a little forced, but surely it was a plot device to build some kind of crucial bridge. The threat of nuclear warfare has been looming over New Seattle for quite some time now, and I mean a long time now. I understand this is a big decision, but it’s been stretched to the point of taking the wind out of the story’s sails a bit. I never actually believed that New Seattle would get nuked, and now we know it’s probably not going to. Why? All because of Hi Zombie! The chairman walks in on her grandson watching the show, and leans over to watch it with him for a while. Over the course of the evening, she has a change of heart about the zombie community. When it comes down to a vote on whether or not to nuke the town, she breaks the tie by voting no. “They have the capacity to become monsters” she says, but she can’t base her vote on “for fear for what they might become.” All of this is certainly not good enough for General Mills, who pays a phone call to our favorite local criminal, Dolly. These two make a toxic team up, for sure, but how will they factor in to the grand finale?

Final thoughts:

Ravi does an amazing noir detective monologue that I can only assume is based off Harrison Ford’s Bladerunner voiceover

Was it just me, or was there extra alcohol in this episode?

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead” “You’re already dead.” It seems unbelievable to me this joke hasn’t been played yet

“We’re not talking about your book. By the book. My book.” I’m going to miss Malcolm Goodwin rolling with every brain swing. He’s exasperated by a brain nearly every week, but this one particularly got under his skin. He tells Liv she’s off the case until she eats a brain tube, but that certainly doesn’t stop her.

“That was just a love tap!”

I always feel frustrated when this show uses terribly dated language, like “hooker” and “junkie.” It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

“The classic lamp reveal.” Finally, a brain that matches Blaine for his dramatics.

Don E’s laugh when Peyton starts singing is pure iZombie

“We’re going to Don E Be Good’s.” “Good’s enough!” Again — so obvious but brilliant.

Haley’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

iZombie airs Thursdays at 9/8c on the CW.

#iZombie #Night in the Zombie City

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danandthereader · 6 years ago

Note

I adore your writing! I was wondering if you could write a little something with Dan forcing the reader to take a break before she burns out? I started a new job and have to get a special license for that and that test is the same week as finals for my summer classes and I’m a little overwhelmed just thinking about it.

A/N: Hi lovely, thank you so much for sending this in ! Though a little late, I have no doubt you did amazing on your tests and finals, and I hope this is a nice gift to celebrate. ♡ I love getting to fill prompts like this - honestly, they help me unwind and get back into the groove of things after a period of burnout too. So I hope you enjoy; heart you !

IN THE WHOLE, WIDE WORLD

Twilight was fast approaching outside the window, turning the sunlight that had been offering you a natural light source a burning orange. The change of color in the bedroom was what alerted you of the passing time, how much you missed today; with a deep sigh, you leaned back in your chair, letting your laptop fall into sleep mode with a fade and gentle purr. Rubbing your eyes, you let your head fall back, keeping your head back and hands over your eyes for just a few moments.Studying was a pain, but when finals rolled around, it was practice test after practice test, lecture notes back-to-back, and a whole lot of staring at a screen. You were surprised by this point your eyes hadn’t melted out of their sockets. There was only one thing that had kept you from completely losing it - though it was more of a person than a thing. His footsteps were gentle as they came through the door, crossed the threshold, and stopped before you.

Then, there was a gentle kiss place against your lips, one that unwound the tension balled up in the front of your head. Still you didn’t move, letting things linger, warm and welcome and almost refreshing. When he pulled away, he murmured, “Hey, lovely.”Dan was, without a doubt, one of the most understanding people in your life at the moment. When things had picked up steam for your career of choice, requiring you to throw yourself fully into school and field work, he was at your side, encouraging and pushing you further. From nine months ago until now, his loyalty never wavered. The loyalty was mutual, as his career was just as hectic, which made you a power couple all your friends were just a tad envious of.“Hey, sweetheart,” you murmured in return, smiling a bit and removing your hands from your eyes. There he was, just above you, all fluffy ‘fro and bright eyes, smiling gently and entirely infatuated. It was a good look on him, one that made you smile in return. “What’s up?” As you sat up and turned, he replied easily, “I heard the very heavy sigh, so I thought I’d come check in on you, see how you were doing.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been in here for almost ten hours.”That caught you off-guard. Ten hours? “Jesus, seriously?” you replied, the thought of the waning light coming back to mind. “I’m sorry,” you couldn’t help but amend, putting your hands back to your face. “These finals, and I have a report to write on my on-sight training and - Ugh. I’m so tired…” That, and your back was really starting to ache, the chair you were in giving you little in terms of lower back support.

Finally, you ran a hand through your hair, getting it away from your face, catching your boyfriend’s eye. He was making that face, the mouth-scrunched-to-the-side one that meant empathy, and you held out a hand. He took it without missing a beat, and squeezed.“You wanna go for a drive?” he asked, tilting his head to one side a bit. That sounded nice, but you couldn’t help ask, “Where would we go?” It got a shrug as a response. “Don’t know. Food, maybe? Or the park?” Your eyebrows raised. “It’s almost dark,” you countered, but he only shrugged again. “Night walks are nice.” That made the both of you smile. “C’mon, it’ll be nice,” he continued, squeezing your hand again. “The fresh air will be good for your brain.” With another sigh, you squeezed his hand a final time, then let go. “All right, all right. Let me get my shoes.”The desire to get out of the house was no doubt also due to Dan’s active nature, always moving, always doing something. His jobs were so go go go, it must’ve been hard to have stuck around for ten hours inside basically by himself. You couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit guilty about it, which made you get your shoes on all the faster. Then you grabbed your purse, phone, and keys, him not far behind. However, he nicked the car keys from your hand before you could get out the door. “Nope. Mine.” Your brows furrowed, laughing a bit in confusion. “I’ve got an idea.” That made you outright laugh. “Oh, now you have an idea,” you replied as he headed out the door, you following behind.

His idea took the two of you over an hour to get there. By the time he slowed to a stop, nighttime was in full swing, weighing heavy on everything outside the windows. Looking out, there was nothing but pitch darkness. “Where are we?” you couldn’t help but ask, the doors unlocking by way of reply. “C’mon.” The single word was filled with excitement, so you followed Dan’s lead, getting out of the car and shutting the door firmly behind you.Though dark, you couldn’t help but marvel at just how much light there was. Most of it was coming from the half-full moon, but there were also a galaxy of stars hanging above you, so much so that you swore you could see the curve of the galaxy up in the sky. The landscape down below was quiet, barren, and flat save for a range of mountains cutting a dark silhouette against the sky. “Whoa,” you couldn’t help but breathe, taking in the sights and sounds - or lack thereof - and the air. It was chilled and crisp, so unlike the normal Los Angeles air you were acclimated to; you took a deep, slow breath in, letting it out the same way.“I thought you might like it.” Dan’s gentleness just barely disturbed the night around you, making you turn. There he was, blankets under arm, making you break into a smile. “I come out here sometimes when I need to get my head back on straight,” he explained. “Arin showed me it years ago. It’s one of my favorite spots.” As he spoke, he laid out one of the blankets, taking a seat after it was all settled. You followed suit, but after a moment, you sort of reflexively laid back. This felt a lot better on your back.Weather to make you feel less awkward or to make him feel less awkward, Dan fell back a moment later, hair pooling around his head and brushing your cheek. It made you smile a bit, but you refrained from commenting.

For a long while, the two of you just stared up at the stars, admiring, breathing, and enjoying the silence. Your hands folded over each other just below your chest; his rested under his head. He was right in saying being out in the wide-open like this was helpful; though no less tired, you felt much more at peace, your head a little less cluttered and throbbing.“Hey Danny?”He replied with a gentle hum.“Thanks for this.” He might’ve just saved you from a total meltdown, or worse.A gentle chuckle. “Absolutely, baby.”Both of you paused.Then, he said it first. “Love you.”Lit up by the world around you and nothing more, you smiled. “Love you too.”

#danny sexbang #dan avidan #dan x reader #dan avidan x reader #x reader #anonymous #answered #req fill

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rayraywrites · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 5: Everything but the baseball

Prompt: Free Time - Day off/Vacation

Characters: Sawamura Eijun, Kuramochi Youichi, Kawakami Norifumi, Furuya Satoru

Rating: General Audiences

Total Word Count: 4105

AO3

Summary:

“Don’t watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going” — Sam Levenson

A day of for him doesn’t mean he sleeps in. It just means he does things a bit different.

Many people found it difficult to wake up before the sun. Something about how their minds were never truly functional till the sun was already up in the sky. And when they were forced to be up that early, they grumbled and whined.

But for him it was as simple as breathing. Waking up with, or even before the sun, had been a habit of his since his childhood days. You couldn’t grow up as a farm boy and be expected to sleep in. He would wake up before the sun in order to find that ten minutes alone time before his chores would start. So coming to Seidou, where practice didn’t begin till 5:30 am? Most days he was awake, waiting for his alarm to go off. Kuramochi-senpai had made it very clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave the room when the sun hadn’t even begun shining.

But some days, he got the opportunity to sneak out and be by himself so early in the morning. Carefully slipping his shoes on, and muffling the hinges with his towel so that no noise could be heard, he stepped out of the room. The minute he would make it out of the border of the dorms, his careful saunter immediately changed into a free-spirited run, sprinting at break-neck speed to appreciate the chill of the morning air and the quietness of the still half-asleep world. Making it to the field, he dropped his things in the corner of the steps, a water bottle still filled from the previous night’s planning, alongside his phone and keys.

Dropping to the ground, he began his morning stretches. Feeling the pleasurable pull in the back of his thighs as he stretched his legs out, he let out a happy groan. Reaching out to touch his toes, both individual legs, and together, he could feel his body awakening alongside his mind.

Standing up, he began his morning run at a slow jog, wanting to avoid any injuries caused by being overly excited. As his pace quickened, he allowed his mind to wander to the coach’s announcement from the previous night.

Kataoka Kantoku’s face was as impassive as ever, but there had been a slight upturn to his lips that belied his pride. “Good job everyone on our win today, the game was extremely well played.”

They had won the practice game, completely one-sided. The only reason the game had gone the full nine innings was for the sake of the game being a practice one – the more practice the better after all.

“So because of your good work, and with training week beginning soon, I’m ordering you all to take a day off. That means, tomorrow, there will be no practicing of baseball. Running and weight training will be allowed, but even then only for a minimal amount.”

It had felt as if the coach’s eyes had been locked on him during the whole announcement, pulling a bright blush to his face while a scowl grew on his lips. Even worse, it hadn’t escaped his teammates awareness either, for they all laughed at his expense, knowing how easily he would over-practice in his zeal.

So all he could do now was run a little, and not even to his full extent because he knew that coach would be made aware somehow. He wouldn’t be able to pitch at all tomorrow if he pushed himself too hard. With a soft whine, he slowed his run back down again, and changed his direction to head back towards the steps. Picking up his water bottle, he pulled off the lid, taking a large gulp of water. He could feel some of it spill out onto his chin, and instead run down his neck as cold rivulets. With a loud gasp, he finished swallowing and reached up to wipe the extra water with the back of his hand.

His phone showed that it was only 5:45 am, so he doubted that anyone would be awake yet, not with a day off. So his walk back towards the dorms was quiet, not wanting to disturb anyone’s sleep, even if he was full of energy. His room was still dim as he slowly eased open the door, the sun having not had a chance to seep into the room just yet.

Walking over to the window, he shifted the plants on the sill so that when he was finally allowed to open the curtains, the ones requiring the most sun would be at the forefront. With a gentle smile, he stuck a finger into the soil of his cactus, checking if it would need any water since it had been a few weeks since he’d watered it. Realizing the soil was a bit dry, he went to pull his finger out of the dirt, and accidentally brushed it against the sharp spines of the plant. With a wince, he pulled his hand back towards his chest, cradling the finger gently.

Seeing that his hand was fine, he laughed slightly and leaned down to pick up the watering can. With practiced ease, he gave every plant that needed water some nourishment, and a little extra love for his beloved sunflower. He had begun humming as he always did when working with plants, smiling to himself as the plants seemed to waken under his careful fingers.

–

Unbeknownst to himself, his humming had quickly transitioned into actual singing. When he lost himself to his plants and music, it was hard to pull him out of it.

“Imagine all the people. Living life in peace~”

While Asada had taken the day off as an excuse to go visit his family, Kuramochi was still asleep in the room, and found himself waking up to Sawamura’s singing. And like clockwork, every time he’d stumbled upon the singing, he found himself blushing even though his eyes continued to track every single movement of the pitcher’s. He had, however, winced slightly when he saw that Sawamura had hurt his hand, but luckily it was the right hand and it didn’t seem that any real injury had occurred.

Eventually, Sawamura was done and the singing stopped. Kuramochi immediately closed his eyes, working on bringing his breathing back to normal, as if he was asleep still.

–

With that done, he headed back to his bed, and stripped of his practice clothes. With none of his roommates awake, he wasn’t in as much of a rush as usual, though he was also slow, because it was only after he took his shorts and shirt off that he realized he wasn’t sure if he had any clean regular clothes left. Luckily, he still had one of the baseball tees Wakana had bought him for his birthday last year – he’d outgrown it slightly, but for a day off it was fine. Stretching his hands upwards to the sky, he felt the last bit of strain in his back from the day before’s game disappear. Slipping on the shirt, and a pair of khakis, he relaxed a little.

Because the day was so beautiful, he decided to go outside to read his manga, rather than stay cooped up inside. Reaching for the books shoved underneath his bed, he managed to find the latest volume of Kimi ni Todoke that he’d borrowed from Haruno. Kanemaru had been breathing down his neck for the past few days to get his hands on it as well, so he had to finish it today.

Straightening up from his bed, he accidentally made eye contact with Kuramochi, who had apparently woken while he had been puttering around the room. Curiously, his senpai’s face was bright red, but questioning Kuramochi-senpai was never a good idea. So with a bright smile, he greeted him.

“Good morning Kuramochi-senpai! The sun is shining very brightly today, would you like to join me for some reading or something outside?”

His smile dimmed a little at the glare he received from Kuramochi, and then the sharp hit on his head made him scowl. Backing away from the bed, he went to pick up his things and stomp out, but stopped by the sheepish voice calling him back.

“Ugh...sorry Bakamura. It’s just your voice is too loud and it’s too early.”

He whirled back around to glare at his senpai, who only laughed loudly before speaking again.

“Kyahaha, don’t make such a pouty face baka. You go enjoy your day reading your stupid shoujo manga, and I’ll enjoy my day with video games.” Kuramochi waved his hand dismissively towards the door.

With a huff, he headed towards the door, throwing one last annoyed glance back towards Kuramochi before reaching to open the door. Just as he was about to slip out, the shortstop called out one last comment that had him spluttering and blushing – both from embarrassment and anger.

“Oh by the way, Bakamura you’re singing isn’t half bad, but maybe not so loud when others are trying to sleep alright? Kyahaha!”

Grumbling about stupid senpais under his breath, he ran out of the room, back towards the field. But this time, rather than going down the steps fully, he simply sat himself down on the side of the steps, pressing himself into the grooves of the cement and hill. Slipping on some earbuds, and pulling out his manga, he easily lost himself in the pages.

Crying at Sawako’s diligent attempts at making friends with everyone in her class, her growing friendship with Kurumi, and everyone’s relationship struggles. He grinned brightly at Kazehaya developing relationship with his father, and even laughed at how similar it was to his own grandfather. As much as he loved baseball, there was just something simple and carefree about the characters in shoujo manga. They had their passions and loves, but it was friendship, romance and personal development that came first in their lives rather than a sport. Though, he did have to say, he was a bit partial to this one because Ryuu played baseball too.

I kind of wish I was as cool as he is with Chizu.

As the sun began raising to approach its peak in the sky, he began shifting slightly away from the corner he’d tucked himself into. As his feet moved to stretch out, they brushed something against something soft that had him raising his head from the manga. Blinking, he was momentarily stunned to see Nori-senpai sitting near him with a pair of headphones placed on his ears. He noted the absence of a book, but saw a rubix cube that the other pitcher was fiddling with.

Ripping out his earbuds, his moment of quiet realization quickly ended as he shouted in surprise, “EHHH? Nori-senpai, what are you doing here!?”

Luckily, unlike some of his other senpai, Nori wasn’t one to hit him when he was loud. Instead, his fellow pitcher simply sighed, removed his headphones from his ears and tucked them around his neck. From there all he did was just nudge Eijun, a subtle signal to quiet down, making him blush lightly.

Still, he quirked an eyebrow and gestured for Nori to answer his question.

“You looked like you were comfortable, and I wanted to know what you were listening to but didn’t want to interrupt your reading.” Nori laughed, something he normally didn’t hear which pulled a smile to his own face. “You were crying when I got here Sawamura, so I was definitely not willing to bother you until that was done.”

Giggling, he shook his head, and replied, “you could have if you wanted senpai, it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal.” Unlike Kuramochi-senpai or Miyuki, Nori had never teased him about his shoujo manga, so he never went on about it during their rare conversations. “As for my music, it was just a playlist of anime soundtracks Wakana recommended me.” Pulling up his music app on his phone, he turned it around to show the other pitcher. “There’s about 60 sixty songs that are on the playlist,” he scrolled through them quickly with his thumb, “all of them are supposed to be soothing so I like to listen to them when reading manga.”

Nori nodded, before reaching for his own phone and pulled up a specific album on his phone. “I think you might like listening to this artist as well then,” he turned his phone around to show a photo of an album. “They remix the old legend of zelda game soundtracks - Majora’s Mask. It’s really lovely, and I think you might actually enjoy them!”

It was always fun to discuss music with Nori-senpai. He always suggested fun artists or songs for him to listen to, and somehow he always knew that Eijun would enjoy them. So he trusted that these would be just as interesting to listen to. Another thing he enjoyed was that on days like this, Nori-senpai wouldn’t force him into a long-drawn conversation. Eijun was naturally loud and enjoyed being around people, but sometimes he liked spending the day a little quieter and on his own.

Their conversation ended soon after, and he put his earbuds back on to finish the last bit of the manga volume in his hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Nori raised the headphones back onto his ears – to himself, he laughed as he realized they were those cute cat ones that Shirasu-senpai had given Nori for Christmas last year. And like before, Nori continued fiddling with the rubix cube, easily finishing and scrambling the cube over and over again.

Another half hour or so passed in this manner, in which he finished the volume as well as the playlist he had been listening to. Standing up, he shook out his legs to allow blood flow to return smoothly. Straightening out his pants, and dusting off his shirt, he then leaned down to pick up his things and turned back to face Nori. Running a hand through his hair, he let his hand slide to the back of his neck.

“Guess I’ll see you later Nori-senpai! You should join me for my morning run tomorrow!” With a bright grin, he began to walk away, heading back to his room. Hearing the response to his question, he simply waved his hand in acquiescence and continued on his path.

Upon entering his room, he could see that Kuramochi-senpai had woken up and had now situated himself in front of the tv to play video games. Glancing at the screen he could see that it was one of the games that the shortstop had been raving about wanting to try out for a few weeks. However, he couldn’t remember when they’d had a moment’s breath for Kuramochi to have bought it. Apparently his confused thoughts had translated to not-so-quiet mutters, for Kuramochi grunted out a reply in the midst of a combo attack from the enemy.

“Borrowed it off of a guy in my class.”

Making the appropriate sounds of understanding, he walked towards his own bed, dropping the manga and phone down, while reaching towards his desk. Unlike the rest of it, there was one corner that was always kept clean and organized, even if it wasn’t obvious among the clutter. Tugging out his sketchbook and pencil case, he then went back to his bed to grab his phone once more. Calling out a loud goodbye to Kuramochi, he left the room once more.

Checking the time, he realized it was already past noon, so he changed his direction towards the cafeteria. Hopefully some of the kitchen ladies wouldn’t mind giving him the food in a packed container so he could eat outside. Luckily, with it being a day off, they were a bit more accepting of his odd request. Smiling at them brightly, he bowed deeply. Normally he would spout some archaic phrase of thanks, but he was excited to get back outside and settle down for the rest of the day. Waving and calling out greetings to the members of the team who were in the cafeteria, he proceeded to the exit, already trying to figure out what his focus was going to be.

As he wandered around the edge of the baseball field, he saw something poking out of the ground, somehow having evaded the lawnmowers. Smiling to himself, he sat down beside the plant, fingers already itching to turn the bright yellow petals into brushstrokes on his page. Immediately, he whipped open his sketchbook, past rough drawings of his friends, the baseball field. His fingers brushed Kuramochi’s face, drooling in his sleep while the shortstop was hunched over a pillow – he had fallen asleep during a video game marathon. His eyes got caught on a sketch of Nori and Miyuki playing catch together, smiles on both of their faces. He quickly flipped through the pages filled with his teammates, and landed on a blank page, closer to the end.

His tongue stuck out as he began roughly outlining the flower, using only the lightest of pencil lines to just get the geometric shapes of each part of the plant. Then he picked up his pen, letting his hand flow on the page. He had been drawing since he was a little boy – his one shelf at home as filled to the brim with sketchbooks. Once the flower was complete, he pulled back the sketchbook, bringing it to his eye level to see if there was anything he could do to make it better. Adding a line here or there, he made a satisfied noise and signed the top corner.

With a soft sigh, he continued sketching, a few more flowers from different angles, a sketch of the landscape – combining the field, the stairs, and the dorms all into one, and some random other things he felt like doodling. Drawing was soothing, like his plants and reading, it was a break from his more hectic life here at Seidou, and just overall. So when he would get the chance, he would try and document the important things in his life as sketches. The moments that fit the phrase “pretty as a picture.”

In the middle of a sketch of his shoes, he felt someone come near him, their height blocking the light he needed. With a scowl, he turned around, ready to shout for them to move out of his way. But seeing Furuya standing there with a confused look on his usually stoic face, only made him shake his head in annoyance before calling out, “Furuya if you’re going to hang out here, get out of the way – we only have a few more hours of sunlight after all!” Gesturing for the other pitcher to move, he turned back to his sketch. Glancing at his shoe that he’d propped up against his pencil case for some nice shadows caused by the angle, he made some final adjustments as Furuya settled down beside him.

Throwing a confused look to the other boy, he shook his head and focussed on his drawings. He noticed that Furuya had brought a baseball, which was rolling through his hands. A reprimand was on the tip of his tongue, ready to accuse Furuya of practicing when they were expressly forbade from anything rigorous. However, he stopped, eyes entranced by how at ease Furuya was when he was holding a baseball, how the normally tensed body slowly relaxed the longer the ball was in his hand. And more importantly, how pretty a picture it made.

So with slight adjustments to his posture, he slowly skipped onto another clean page, pulling out more of his pencils and rubbers to create another drawing. This time, his muse was Furuya and the baseball that meant so much to them. He could tell that Furuya had realized he was now the model, for his actions became slower, as if to help Eijun by staying still. But instead of being helpful, it only added stiffness to Furuya’s wrist and fingers, so he shook his head, encouraging his teammate to keep moving and be himself.

Wide, broad strokes defined the geometric shape of the palm, a rough circle placed the ball carefully onto the page. Then tube-like structures began shaping the fingers, the three circling around the ball, carefully cradling it in an understated strength. And then, he pulled out his heavy-weight pencils, a blending stump following to add the shadows that curled under each finger, that spread across the ball in patches. He continued to glance at Furuya’s hand that had yet to stop fidgeting with the baseball. In the dim evening light, there was limited light bouncing off his nails, but Eijun wanted to give it a view of early morning, as if light was slowly growing on the hand as the sun rose in the sky. Pulling out his white pencil, he added highlights, once more blending them into the rest of the hand.

Like each sketch, he held it away from himself, to see what needed to be fixed, and what was fine. He scowled at the shape of the tip of the middle finger and adjusted it, using his eraser to clean the edges of the shadows a bit more. When he was finally satisfied, he signed the drawing, before clearing his throat to attract Furuya’s attention.

“Here, you can take a look,” turning the sketchbook to face Furuya, Eijun tried to act as if his opinion meant nothing, “if you want of course.”

When Furuya reached out for the book, he handed it over, albeit a little hesitantly. And yet, there was no negative comments, only Furuya staring at it blankly. Pouting at the lack of a reaction, he crossed his arms, huffing out a breath in impatience.

“Well? What do you think? Did I do okay? What’s wrong with it?” He was definitely getting much too worked up over the sketch, but something about actually showing the person who he’d drawn was very nerve-wracking. He’d managed to go this long, with no one ever seeing his art, at least never ones of themselves. Harucchi had seen the one of oniisan-senpai in the middle of catching a ball, and had demanded a copy of it immediately. But that was the only time – everyone else who knew he drew assumed it was only landscape and plants.

But even after his prompting and pestering, Furuya didn’t reply. Instead, all he received was an intense glare from the other pitcher, making him scowl righteously in response. Then Furuya slowly ripped the drawing from the sketchbook, making him reach out in shock. And before he could formulate a response, the pitcher stood up, and walked away.

Scrambling up, he shouted after Furuya, confused and a little upset. Not so much because his drawing was taken, but because even then, he hadn’t been able to read Furuya at all. With a loud sigh, he dropped back to the ground, and packed up all his things. It was nearing sunset, and he knew that if he wanted to get away with an evening run, he would have to get back to his room soon.

The rest of the evening continued without any pomp, he simply dropped his things back in his room and then headed out with Kuramochi for dinner in the cafeteria. Eventually managing to escape everyone heading to Miyuki’s room, he changed into the same clothing from that morning, and worked out some of the pent up energy he’d been unable to expend from the lack of practice. By the time it approached lights out, he’d managed to slightly tire himself out. In the back of his mind, he could vaguely remember the threat of a math test later on that week, and managed to focus for about thirty minutes, but gave up quickly to instead go to bed.

Waking up early, meant that he often went to bed early to compensate. An athlete needed an appropriate amount of sleep after all. Unless you were Miyuki, who most of the team wasn’t sure actually slept.

Another day complete, another day off taken care of. His eyes slid shut, satisfied with everything he’d done that day.

–

Waking up the next morning, slipping into his practice clothes again, he headed out for his run. Exiting the room, he was surprised to see something stuck to their door. Pulling it off, he blinked, before laughing brightly at what he saw.

It was a crude drawing of what was supposed to be a hand holding a baseball. A left hand.

“It’s horrid. How cute.”

Here’s Eijun’s first drawing of a daffodil & his drawing of Furuya’s hand holding the baseball: (drawn by yours truly)

And then, here's Furuya's attempt at a hand :D

#daiya no ace #sawamura eijun #kuramochi youichi #kawakami norifumi #furuya satoru #ace of diamond #diamond no ace #eijun week #day 5 #ray ray writes

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write-havoc · 7 years ago

Text

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 6

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

The next couple of weeks go by quickly for Chuck, with her seemingly finding her groove at The Sanctuary. She makes sure not to skip her meals, per Negan's request. And even manages to strike up a few conversations with people in the cafeteria as she eats her breakfasts. Not that she made any real friends or anything, but she’s trying to be more sociable. Sometimes Simon would stop by to eat with her, too. And he is becoming a true friend. True to Negan's word, Carson makes sure she eats her lunch during her breaks, having a very awkward conversation afterward the first day about how unhealthy not eating enough is.

Chuck always has a few hours to herself after her shift before Negan retrieves her for dinner each day. She would usually take a shower and lounge in her room, writing in her diary, playing her guitar, and reading books. Sometimes, Chuck would go to Negan's floor early on her own to visit the wives. They like for her to play the piano for them and always seem so excited to see her. Chuck grows friendly with the women, over time. She discovers that the women have a lot to offer. They aren’t just the living sex dolls that people would talk about on the floors below.

Every night, Chuck and Negan would eat dinner together, sometimes he would cook, sometimes she would (with much help from Negan), other times they get food from the kitchen. Afterward, they would play chess and then go to bed. Chuck has platonically slept in Negan's bed every night, keeping her nightmares at bay.

Chuck begins to get fully comfortable with Negan, considering him to be her best friend. He never pushes her to talk about what she went through, but he always listens when she talks about it. With Negan’s help, she comes to terms with what happened to her. She’s by no means completely over it, but she feels much better. Especially knowing that Negan is there to support her.

Chuck saves up enough points to get a small tv and bluray player for her room. She practically squeals in excitement in the middle of the marketplace when she finds a box set of her favorite tv show. While Negan is away on a run for a few days, Chuck pretty much spends all night watching it. With Negan gone, Chuck knows that her nightmares will come back without him there, so she delays sleep as much as she can. The nightmares don’t affect her quite as much as they once did, but they still disturb her sleep.

She is fast asleep in her own bed, having finished season four an hour earlier, when a sliver of light hits her face, waking her instantly. Her door is opened and a man’s silhouette stands tall in the doorway. She is paralyzed for a moment before calling out to the intruder.

“Who is it?!”

“It's just me, sweetheart.” Negan's familiar voice calms Chuck's nerves as soon as she recognizes it.

“Jeez, Negan! You scared me half to death,” Chuck says as Negan closes her door and enters the room.

“Sorry, baby girl” he apologizes and strips down to his underwear. “Scooch over.”

“What are you doing?”

“I got back from that run later than I wanted to and I'm tired as fuck. I want to sleep.”

“But you never sleep in my room.”

“Are you fuckin’ kicking me out?”

“No.”

“Then scooch over!” he says, exasperated, and lifts the covers from the bed to get in on her open right side.

“You always sleep on my left, though.”

“I'm not sleeping by the wall. Jesus Christ, Chuck. If you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and drag you to my room so I can get some goddamn sleep. I haven’t slept for two fuckin’ days.”

“Okay, okay! Jeez, Mr. Crankypants.”

“Turn around so I can spoon.”

“Yes, sir,” Chuck says sarcastically. “Come into my room. Dictate how I sleep,” she mutters to herself as she turns.

“I fuckin’ heard that.”

The next morning, Negan is still asleep when Chuck wakes. She turns around to face him, trying to figure out how to get out of her bed. Negan is to her right and the wall is to her left.

“Negan,” she whispers loudly, trying to wake him up. “Negan, I have to get up and get ready for work.”

He lets out a groan. “Fuckin’ get up then. Why the fuck do I have to be awake for it?” he rasps sleepily and shifts onto his back.

“Because you're in the way and I can't get out of bed unless I crawl over you.” She pokes him gently on his cheek and giggles when he scrunches up his nose at her.

“Well, crawl over me. I'm still fuckin’ sleeping.”

She lets out a groan and starts to awkwardly crawl over him.

“Don't knee me in the dick.”

She giggles and finishes clumsily climbing out of her twin bed, practically falling onto the floor. Negan starts snoring immediately after.

“How does he fall asleep so quickly?” she says to herself.

Her shift later that day is mostly uneventful, so Chuck is reading about more advanced wound care while she sits at the counter. She is interrupted by Simon.

“Heya, angel.” He nods to the doctor. “Carson.”

Carson nods a greeting and goes back to his work at his desk.

“Hey, Simon. You need something?” she asks.

“The guys are bringing in some stuff from the run they went on yesterday. They’ll be around in a little bit.”

“Oh, good,” Chuck responds.

“So how are you doing, kiddo?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Just peachy.” Simon pulls at his waistband and puts his hands on his hips. “You look really good. Healthy, I mean.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Chuck feels her cheeks flush. “I’ve gained some weight back.”

“If you’re into gelato, I know this lady that makes it. We can get some... together after your shift-“

“Simon, the guys in the garage are fuckin’ idiots. Will you deal with that shit? ” Negan’s voice barks through Simon’s radio.

“On my way, boss,” Simon says into it. “See ya later, angel.” Simon turns to leave.

“Bye.”

After her shift, Chuck makes her way back to her room to relax for a bit. She turns on her tv and watches a few episodes of her show before Negan is due to come get her. Right on time, he enters her room, not bothering to knock. He looks at the tv screen for a few moments before speaking.

“The fuck are you watching?”

“Supernatural. It was my favorite show. I guess it still is my favorite show. It's not like any new ones are going to come out any time soon to replace it.”

“Oh shit! That’s a nice fuckin’ car,” he says as the ‘67 Chevy Impala races down the road on the screen. “I had one just like it!”

“No way!” Chuck exclaims. “I didn’t know that!”

“Wait.” Negan narrows his eyes at the screen. “Who's that guy?” He points as the camera focuses in on the driver of the car.

“That's Dean Winchester. He's my favorite character,” she says with a smile.

“That guy is?” he teases.

“Well, yeah. Look at him. He's perfect. He's funny and loyal. He's saved countless people. And he's pretty much the most gorgeous man ever.”

“You think he's gorgeous?”

“Yes, Negan,” she says, exasperated at Negan's questioning. “He's objectively beautiful, okay? Everyone thinks he’s handsome. It's not even a matter of opinion. It's just a scientific fact. That dude is perfect.”

“Come with me. I want to show you something,” he says with a mischievous grin on his face. Chuck follows, intrigued with what Negan is leading her to. They make their way up to Negan's room quickly. Once there, he goes to his closet and rummages in it for a bit, before finding a box. He sets it on the bed and pulls out a photo. He cockily holds it up to Chuck’s face for her to look at. It’s a picture of a young man who looks strikingly like Jensen Ackles, the man that played Dean Winchester.

Why does Negan have a picture of a younger Jensen Ackles with a bowl cut? Did he know him? Wait. That's not him. This guy looks a little different. His hair is too dark. And he has darker eyes and… dimples?

Oh god, that's Negan. He looked so much like Jensen Ackles when he was younger! Wow, he was hot! I guess me and my mom have the same taste in guys after all.

What am I thinking?! That's Negan I'm talking about! Oh man, he's going to tease me mercilessly now. That's why he looks so amused.

“Ah?!” He pulls the picture back beside his face and gestures between the two. “See the resemblance?” he teases.

“I see it,” she says, annoyance in her tone.

“So you have the fuckin’ hots for me.”

“No, I don't.”

“You fuckin’ just said you did!”

“No. I said I have the hots for Jensen Ackles . And you're not him.”

“You wanna get a fuckin’ closer look at that picture? We look fuckin’ alike!”

“Maybe young you did. But not you now.” She laughs.

“I didn't age that fuckin’ badly, Chuck. Shit.”

“Aww. I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?” she says sarcastically, trying to change the subject and get the pressure off of her. “Would you like me to get one of the wives in here so she can stroke your ego?”

He lets out a booming laugh. “Did you just make a handjob joke?”

She furrows her brow at him for a second. “No! Oh my god! I didn't mean it like that!” she blushes heavily as he laughs loudly.

“Don't try to change the subject with dick jokes. I know you always had a crush on me in high school.”

“I never had a crush on you. All the other girls definitely did. And my mom, but not me.”

“What? Why the fuck not?”

She shrugs her response. Their conversation is interrupted by the kitchen worker bringing in their dinner. They settle down with their plates and continue their conversation, much to Chuck’s dismay.

“Why didn't you ever have a fuckin’ boyfriend in high school, then? I figured it was because you held a fuckin’ torch for yours truly.” He grins at her.

“Not everything is about you, Negan.”

“Then why no boyfriends?”

She lets out a huff. “I barely had any friends!” she exclaims and shakes her head. “I don't know, have you met me? I'm weird looking and awkward. Not everyone is as genetically blessed and confident as you are. Some of us are just… unattractive.”

He scrunches his face at her. “You're shy as fuck, and, yeah, kinda awkward, but you're not weird looking. You're not unattractive.”

“Well, my 25 years of life experience begs to differ.”

He raises his brows. “Surely after high school there were some nerdy college guys just itching to get in those panties of yours.”

“Uh, no. No guy has ever really been attracted to me. I've never even had a boyfriend,” she mutters as she pokes at her food with her fork.

“Are you exaggerating?”

She shakes her head in response.

“No fuckin’ way! Are you telling me you're a virgin?”

“Well, obviously not… considering how I came to live here.” Even though she never wants to talk about the specifics of what had happened to her at Rolling Acres, she is comfortable enough with Negan to mention it. She knows that he already knows her past and would never push her into talking about it if she didn’t want to.

“Fuck.” He drops his fork. “I didn’t mean... That shit doesn't count, Chuck. Jesus…” Negan snaps back quickly.

“Well, technically it does-“

“No, not fuckin’ ‘technically’. If you never consented for a man to stick his dick in you, you're a virgin.”

“Then, by that definition, I guess I am,” she says after a beat.

“No shit? That's interesting, ” He says as he smirks at her.

“Not particularly,” she throws out. “If you think that is interesting, then you must be really bored in life,” she jokes.

“Then I guess I am,” he says as he cocks his eyebrow.

The next night, Negan makes the two of them a full meal, along with a bottle of wine. Negan portions out the food onto their plates and pours the wine into two glasses.

“Wow. This all looks amazing! But, uh. I'm not really a big drinker.” She points to the glass in front of her that Negan had just filled with red wine.

“Just a few sips then. We're fuckin’ celebrating. And I’m not celebrating fuckin’ alone.”

“What exactly are we celebrating?”

“You putting on weight, being happy. Looking like an actual living person.”

“Gee, thanks for that sorta compliment.” She giggles and takes a sip of the wine. “Wow.” She smacks her lips. “This is really good. The wine I had before tasted horrible. I didn't know wine was this good.” She takes a bigger gulp.

“Well you have expensive fuckin’ taste, then. We got a bunch of bottles of fuckin’ primo shit from some upscale restaurant a while back. This shit would've been expensive as fuck before.”

“I like it a lot.” She takes another drink.

“Well slow the fuck down. I'm not trying to get you fuckin’ hammered.”

After dinner, they move into Negan's room, wine in hand, to play their nightly game of chess. Several minutes in, Negan excuses himself to use the bathroom.

Oh my god, this wine is soooo good, but Negan is being stingy with the refills. What he doesn't know won't hurt him…

While he is gone, Chuck chugs her whole glass of wine and refills it twice, before he sits back down to resume the game. Some time later, the wine starts to take its toll on her.

“Checkmate!” Chuck slurs then hiccups.

“That's not even fuckin’ close to checkmate, sweetheart.”

“Pfffft! Yes it is!” She slaps her hand down on the table and laughs as some of the pieces fell over.

“Oh shit. You are drunk as fuck. You really are a fuckin’ lightweight.”

“I drank a bunch when you were in the bathroom. Like a bunch,” she says, breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Shit, Chuck.” He lets out a disappointed huff. “I guess this game is over then. Your fuckin’ brain is definitely not working right. Time to get you to bed.” He starts to stand, but is interrupted by her.

“No, no, no, no. Wait! I want to ask you something.” She stands from her chair and tries to step over the coffee table in front of her to get to Negan’s couch. She stumbles and lands directly in Negan's lap.

“Fuck! What are you doing? Be careful!” Negan says as he tries to lift her up by her arms.

“Whoops!” Chuck laughs out.

With her upper half being held by Negan, she clumsily kicks out her legs looking for purchase, hitting the chessboard, and sending the pieces flying all over the room. Eventually she pulls herself up and brings up her legs to straddle Negan's thighs.

“Jesus Christ, Chuck! What the fuck are you doing?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“You can do that from any-fuckin’-where but on my fuckin’ lap,” he says as he holds his arms out awkwardly, trying not to touch her.

She takes off his glasses and turns to set them on the coffee table behind her. “Why do you have a beard?” she giggles and brings her hands up to touch his cheeks.

“That's your urgent question?” Negan says as he cocks his eyebrow at her.

“Yup.”

“Uh… I'm a grown ass man and I haven't shaved. It's not fuckin’ rocket science.”

She moves around in his lap and caresses his face and neck as she giggles. “No. I mean now . You didn't have a beard when you teached me in high school. Pffffft!” She laughs at herself while slapping Negan on the shoulders. “When you taught me!” She descends into a fit of giggles before bringing her hands back to his face.

“Fuck. Stop moving around so much, Chuck.” Negan squirms a bit underneath her. “Shit.”

“I like beards a lot. My mom probably wouldn't like your beard, though. It hides those dimples.” She pokes her index fingers into his cheeks, making him smile. “She always loved your dimples. I think they're stupid.” She traces the lines on his face.

“What? Why the fuck are they stupid?” Negan responds, suddenly a bit offended.

“They're not stupid! Don't say that! I didn't say that! I like them! They just don't fit. Like, why did you make them?”

“What?!” He chuckles. “What the fuck are you even fucking talking about?” He can’t help but laugh at her and her drunk logic.

“Like, your dimples are cute. But you're not cute, so they don't fit.”

Negan quirks a brow. “I'm not cute?”

“Listen!” She squeezes his cheeks together causing him to laugh. “Like, dimples are for cute boys and you're not a cute boy. You're a… manly… guy. All…” she gestures broadly at him, “… hunky and… dangerous, you know what I mean?” She taps his nose with her finger as she says the last part. “Not. Cute.”

“You think I'm hunky?” He grins at her.

“I guess. I mean everyone else does, right?”

“Is that why you're sitting on my fucking lap right now? Because you think I'm hunky? And drunk Chuck is just enough fucking uninhibited right now to crawl right the fuck on top of me?” He smirks at her.

“What? I don’t get it.” She giggles. “Oh! I think I’m in your lap because… I just fell into your lap!” She laughs so hard at her own joke that her whole body shakes.

“Fuck, baby. You are waking the fuckin’ beast right now.” Negan groans out as he tries to still her by placing his hands on her shoulders.

As her laughs die down, her expression gets more serious. “You're my best friend, Negan. I wouldn't be here without you.” She shifts forward to press herself against him and hugs him tightly.

“Shit. Is ‘cute drunk Chuck’ gonna turn into ‘weepy drunk Chuck’?” he says quietly as he reciprocates the hug.

“I like hugging you.”

“You do?” Negan whispers.

“Yeah. You're warm. And I feel safe with you.”

He pauses for several moments before responding. “Is that the only reason? I just make you feel safe?” He shifts to try to look at her face.

“Negan!” She starts to laugh and squirm around. “Your beard tickled my neck!”

“Shit.” Negan grasps her shoulders. “Okay, you really need to get the fuck off me now.” He tries to push her away from him.

“Wait! I want to touch your beard some more! I'm not finished!” She brings her hands to his beard again as he tries to stop her.

“Goddamnit. I'm gonna fucking finish if you don't stop grinding on my fuckin’ dick like that,” he says almost to himself.

“Oh my god. Did I hurt you?” she gasps. In her addled state, she doesn’t understand what Negan is really saying. “Let me see. Did I squish your… you know?” she asks genuinely as she tries to bring her hands down to touch Negan's lap. He quickly grabs her hands and pulls them up, stopping her.

“Don't do that!” he exclaims. “Goddammit, Chuck. You're fuckin’ killing me here.”

“I'm so sorry, Negan. I didn't mean to hurt you! You're my friend!” she says as tears well up in her eyes. She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly.

“Fuuuuuck.” He breaths out heavily. “I'm fine, baby. You just… gotta… get the fuck off me, please. You don't know what you're doing to me.” He moves his hands to her waist and tries to lift her off of him.

“Wait, Negan! Wait!” She giggles and moves her face right in front of his. “Negan, I have to tell you something, but it’s a secret,” she says in a breathy voice.

Negan swallows thickly and runs his hands from her waist to her hips and thighs.

“Negan?” She pushes forward, closer to him, and puts her hands gently on the sides of his face.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispers to her, their lips so close that they graze each other with the movement.

“I- I think…” she swallows and clears her throat. “I think... the wine went bad. I don't feel very good. I'm gonna be sick.”

“Fucking shit!” He quickly lifts her up and carries her to the toilet just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into it. “There you go. Get it all out,” he says gently as he holds her hair and rubs her back when she retches. “You all done?”

She swallows a few times. “Yeah. I think so.” She cleans herself up a bit and Negan leads her back to the bedroom.

“Can you get yourself in bed while I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah. I can.”

“Do not fuckin’ puke in my bed.”

“I think I'm okay.”

While Negan is in the bathroom, Chuck tries to get herself dressed for bed. She takes off her pants and tries unsuccessfully to take her bra off under her shirt.

“How do I usually do this without taking my shirt off? Why can't I figure this out right now?” she says to herself. “Negan! Will you help me take my bra off!” she yells to him. When Negan doesn’t come out, she decides to just take her shirt and bra off all together and crawl onto the bed wearing just her underwear. She closes her eyes and immediately falls asleep.

Chuck starts to stir as she slowly wakes up the next morning.

“Ugh.”

God, I feel crappy. Why do I feel so crappy? Oh, right. Wine. I drank a lot of it. I. am. an. idiot.

What happened last night? Uhh. I remember telling Negan he was my friend. I remember hugging him. And rubbing his face. I remember him desperately trying to push me off him. I think I might have inadvertently molested Negan a little bit… maybe. Ugh! Kill me now!

Why am I wearing Negan's shirt? I don't remember putting that on. I'm pretty sure I didn't take it off him. I remember taking my shirt off. I must've gotten this out of his dresser. God…

Well, whatever. Don’t think about how much I embarrassed myself last night. I need to pull myself together and get ready for work. Ugh. Working with a hangover. How classy. I'm never getting drunk again.

Luckily for Chuck, no emergencies come up at the infirmary and she has a pretty lazy day. By the time Negan gets her for dinner, she feels pretty much back to her old self.

“So, how was your day?” Negan says with a smirk as he plates up the food he had prepared.

“I was hurting for most of it,” Chuck confirms. “I don't think I like wine anymore.” They both laugh.

“How much do you fuckin’ remember from last night?” Negan asks as he takes his seat and digs into his food.

“I remember most of it, I think. Bits and pieces, anyway. I know I puked at some point.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that. At least I got you to the fuckin’ toilet.”

“I vaguely remember talking about your beard.” She scrunches up her face in embarrassment, waiting for his response.

“Oh, yes. You were very interested in my face.”

“Ugh. God. Sorry! I didn’t mean to molest you.”

“You’re definitely a handsy drunk.” Negan lets out a booming laugh.

“I'm so embarrassed!” She brings her hands up to her cheeks. “I know I must've put your shirt on at some point.” She tries to change the subject.

“Nope. I found you fuckin’ spread out in my bed mostly naked. I put that shirt on you so you wouldn't freak the fuck out when you woke up.”

“Oh, no! Don't tell me that! You're lying. Just say that you're lying and that I didn't get naked in front of you,” she pleads as a blush spreads over her face. She is embarrassed at the thought of Negan seeing her naked, but she knows he would never take advantage of her.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna fucking lie to you. I got an eyeful of your titties.”

“Ugh!” Chuck screams and puts her head down on the table in an attempt to cover her red face.

Negan lets out a laugh. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. You got nice tits.” He teases.

“Stop!” She shoots her head up. “Completely forget about that! Just purge that image from your mind!”

“Nope. That shit’s permanently saved now.” They share a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and go back to eating.

The next day starts off like any other with Chuck having spent most of her shift helping Carson hand out medication and cleaning out various minor cuts. Near the end of her shift, two men come in, one worse off than the other.

“My buddy here, he, uh, he had a… seizure,” one man says as he leads the other one to a bed.

“Does he have a history of seizures?” Carson asks.

“Uh, yeah. He's had them before. Uh... yeah.”

Carson does a cursory exam and determines that the man is fine for now, but needs to be watched overnight. Carson dismisses the patient’s friend, telling him not to worry.

“Charlotte, would you stay here to watch over the patient?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just observe him. If he starts to seize again, give me a call on the radio. I'm going to head out to eat dinner and then I'll be back to check on the patient. Just keep him resting for now. When I come back, you can go and eat your own dinner. Because we’re going to be here all night.”

When Carson leaves the room, Chuck picks up the radio to let Negan know about what is going on. “Negan?”

“Yeah, Chuck? Problem in the doc’s office?”

“Nothing serious. We have a patient here that needs overnight observation. Just wanted to keep you up to speed.”

A few minutes later, Negan enters the infirmary with a plate full of food.

Chuck greets him. “Oh, hey, Negan. You didn't really need to stop by.”

“I brought you fuckin’ dinner. I didn't want you to go hungry if you're going to be here all night. Where's the doc?”

“He went to eat his own dinner actually. He should be back in a few minutes.”

“What's wrong with the guy?” Negan asks as he points to the man sleeping in the bed, setting the plate of food on the counter in front of Chuck.

“He had a seizure. His buddy brought him in earlier.”

“Hmm.” He pauses, running his hand over his beard. “Alright, then. You don't get out of your turn fuckin’ cooking for me because duty calls. You're cooking for me tomorrow night.”

She laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. It’s not like you don’t do most of the work anyway,” she says sarcastically. “See ya later,” she calls out as he walks through the door to leave.

Several minutes later, Carson returns and asks, “How is the patient?”

“He's just been sleeping. No new developments,” Chuck says between bites of the meal that Negan had brought her.

After several hours of nothing going on, boredom sets in for both Carson and Chuck. Carson has caught up on all his work and then browses medical texts while Chuck takes inventory of medical supplies.

“I don't think both of us really need to be here,” Carson says and he closes the book that he was reading. “I’ll be in my room. Just radio me if anything arises. And keep the door locked. It's technically after hours, even though you're still in here.” With that, Carson takes his leave.

“Great. Low man on the totem pole gets the crap job of babysitting all night,” Chuck mutters to herself. She finishes up the inventory and curls up in the empty bed with a book. Late into the night, Chuck’s story is interrupted by a light knocking on the door. She opens it and sees the patient’s friend standing in the doorway.

“Can I help-“ Chuck is suddenly hit on the head from behind, hard. She instantly falls to the ground, blacking out for a moment.

“I got held up so we need to hurry,” the friend says urgently.

“I think we really fucked up with this plan. Negan stopped by and I think he's sweet on the girl. He's gonna fucking kill us!” the former patient says urgently.

The other man gives him a look and picks up a pair of scissors from the counter. He walks over to Chuck, who is lightly moaning in pain on the floor. He covers her mouth with his hand, making sure the noises she’s making are muted. “We should be long gone before anyone knows what happened. As long as the bitch doesn't raise a stink and a savior comes running. Take that radio on the counter. We’ll be able to hear when the alarm sounds.” The man gestures to the other and he takes the radio. “Now go get the pills from the closet and I'll make sure she doesn't scream.” The man takes the scissors and stabs Chuck in the left side. He squeezes her mouth shut to stifle her howl of pain. “Fuck! Why are you taking so long? We only have a few minutes before guard change at the gate. Get that closet open and get the pills!”

Chuck is barely aware of what happens next, hearing shuffling around and hushed voices. She knows that she needs to get help, but she doesn’t dare move, fearing what the men would do to her. She tries her hardest to keep awake, but the darkness starts to seep in. She can’t fight it any longer and blacks out.

#negan #negan fanfiction #negans thirst squad #negan x oc #negan x ofc #negan / ofc #negan x original female character #negan / original female character #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead au #twd #tihid #this is how i disappear #writehavoc writes #writehavoc this is how i disappear

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blondepomwrites · 6 years ago

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Uh, that's quite a few of them, but I couldn't pick! For the end of year writing meme: F, M, O, T and/or V!

Thank you for the ask and apologies for the lateness of this answer. I thought this meme would help revive my desire to write again, but not quite. So I had to do some good ol’ fashioned keyboard CPR before I could tackle these. I think I’ve got it now.

F. What stories are you planning for the future?

Oh gosh. Well, finishing What We Leave Behind, for one, would be a great place to start. After that, I think it’s mainly give Walk the Void the boot out of my WIP section whether it (or I) like it or not. It needs to see the light of day before the sun sets on DA2 Fenhawke and DA4 utterly wrecks the story’s canon. I don’t have any other concrete fanfiction plans at the moment… though re-reading Room by Emma Donoghue and churning out Playing House could be rewarding (and, again, doing it before DA4 comes in and wrecks known canon).

As far as original fiction goes, I really need to hop back on The Girl Who Struck Lightning. It’s theoretically halfway done, and I did that in maybe a year and a half? Maybe with some luck and more stability (fingers crossed) in the future, I can accomplish the second half in just as much time.

M. Meta! Have any meta about a story you’re dying to throw out there?

I’m VERY disappointed in myself because I cannot for the life of me think of anything that fits this. I reserve the right to reblog this later when an idea suddenly hits me at ass o’clock.

O. Do you believe in outlines? Show us one!

YES! Listen, I am all onboard for spontaneity, particularly when it’s character driven in the moment, but I think spontaneity in writing as a whole only works when you are nearly constantly ~in the groove~. I am not one of those people, so outlines mainly help me remember 1.) what the fuck I’m doing and 2.) why the fuck I’m doing it.

Here’s an (old) outline from the the middle part of What We Leave Behind, before it evolved into what it is:

THEY TRAVEL A BIT IN THE DIRECTIONTHEY THINK WILL FIND THEM A DALISH CLAN FASTEST. FENRIS TRIES TO HAVE THE BOYWALK ALONG WITH THEM BUT HAWKE IS LIKE NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT FIRST OF ALL HE’LLGET DISTRACTED AND MIGHT RUN OFF INTO TROUBLE, AND TWO IT’LL TAKE FOREVER.PLUS, HE LOOKS TIRED AND COMFORTABLE WHERE HE IS. DON’T DISTURB THE PEACE. SOTHEY TRAVEL FOR A BIT FENRIS HOLDING HIM. (include bit about muscle memoryseemingly not affected by the memory wiping effects of the lyrium that runsover them like a river.) THIS IS SOMEWHERE WHERE THE “I’m not jealous.” LINECOMES IN?

LATER IT’S NIGHTTIME AND THEY MAKECAMP. (don’t need to set the scene for this probably. Can just skip to ‘theyfed him and went to sleep at some point’.) IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT FENRISWAKES FROM A NIGHTMARE (not a bad bad one but still one) AND FINDS THAT HAWKEAND THE BOY ARE ALREADY UP, HAWKE CRADLING THE SOBBING BOY IN HER ARMS IN THEDARK. (include bit about open arms, human or elven or whathaveyou, feel thesame in the dark of night) THE BOY EVERY NOW AND THEN SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT MAMAAND PAPA AND SLAVERS AND SUCH, AND HAWKE JUST HOLDS HIM AND REASSURES HIM ASBEST SHE CAN. ONCE HE SETTLES A LITTLE MORE, SHE QUIETLY SAYS HOW HE REMINDSHER OF CARVER AFTER FATHER DIED. HE PUT ON A BRAVE FACE DURING THE DAY, BUT THENIGHT UNRAVELED HIM.

MORNING COMES. THE BOY IS BACK TOBEING FENRIS’ LITTLE BUDDY, BUT COMING AROUND TO HAWKE BECAUSE OF HER VOICEFROM THE NIGHT. SEEMS ESPECIALLY TAKEN WITH HER BLACK HAIR WHEN HE GETS MORECOMFORTABLE (like his mother’s). HAWKE LEAVES FENRIS AND THE BOY FOR A LITTLEBIT TO SCOUT AHEAD WHERE THEY SHOULD GO NEXT. THE BOY EXPLORES THINGS AND TALKSTO FENRIS IN BROKEN DALISH/TRADE. FENRIS SHOWS/TEACHES HIM HOW TO DO SOMETHING.FINDS IT COMES RATHER NATURALLY.

THEN LATER

HE HAS BITTERSWEET FEELINGS ABOUTSEEING HAWKE AND DA’LEN CURLED UP. FATHERLY FEELINGS AT FIRST, TOTALLY IN LOVEWITH THE SIGHT; THEN IT BEGINS TO FALL AS HE HAS REMEMBERS THAT TOMORROW THEYWILL TAKE HIM TO THE NEARBY CLAN. IT COINCIDES WITH THAT FAMILIAL FEELING THATHAS BEEN CREEPING UP ON HIM—THAT SOMETHING SIMILAR TO THIS WAS WHAT HEWILLINGLY GAVE AWAY, SO THAT [he’d hoped] HIS MOTHER AND SISTER COULD LIVEFREELY. BUT THAT TIME, HIS SACRIFICE HAD RATHER BEEN IN VAIN, SO THERE’S ABRIEF MOMENT WHERE HE ENTERTAINS THAT… MAYBE THEY JUST DON’T. MAYBE THEY JUSTKEEP GOING, DO AS HAWKE SAID. ESCAPE. REST. THEY DO DESERVE IT, DON’T THEY?

BUT THEN HE REMEMBERS THAT THEONLY REASON THEY ARE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE IS BECAUSE THEY HAD TO FIGHT TOFREE DA’LEN AND ALL THE OTHER WOULD-BE SLAVES, AND IF THEY JUST STOPPED NOW,THERE WOULD BE SO MANY MORE THAT THEY WOULD NOT GET TO, THAT DID NOT DESERVEWHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO THEM.

AND FENRIS? THIS IS WHAT’S HE’SCHOSEN FOR HIMSELF. HE CHOSE IT WHEN HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS LEAVING BEHIND, AND,RIGHT NOW, HE DOES NOT FEEL WORTHY OR READY TO RELEARN WHAT HE GAVE UP. BUTTHEN, WHAT OF HAWKE? SHE’S CHOSEN HIM AND HE’S CHOSEN HER, BUT WHAT IF THAT ISNOT WHAT SHE WANTS? WOULD HE BE PREPARED TO MAKE THE CHOICE, IF IT CAME DOWN TOIT? WOULD HE BE ABLE TO?

LEAVE THAT KIND OF UNANSWERED, ASHAWKE STIRS AND BECKONS HIM TO JOIN THEM. REGARDLESS OF WHAT TOMORROW WOULDBRING, HE JOINS THEM AND LETS HIMSELF RELISH IN THE MOMENT, REGARDLESS OF WHATTOMORROW WOULD BRING. LEAVE TOMORROW’S WORRIES FOR TOMORROW, LET HIMSELF BEHAPPY IN THE MOMENT, JUST FOR A LITTLE WHILE.

T. Themes, motherfucker, do you have them? What are they?

Hurting and healing, healing and hurting, probably. And having someone there to go through it with you.

V. Which story was the most viscerally pleasing to write? Tell us your narrative kinks.

UNFFF. Well, the last part of chapter three of What We Leave Behind really got me going. But I guess stories like Walk the Void and Luxeferre are probably manifestations of my narrative kinks because they’re so un-apologetically purple, somewhat lyrical, and so full of malaphors that they’re practically indecipherable. (See, you’ll also notice that the last two have never seen the light of day in whole. Now it’s no wonder why.)

Again, thank you so much for the ask!!

(from the End of the Year Writing Meme)

#meme #aban-asaara #asks #2018 was a boom and bust year folks #i spent all my writing energy in the first half #don't make the same mistake i did kids

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duallygirl178 · 4 years ago

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Dearest O'Malley Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Natalie and Nathan had their first date of romance shared with me. I liked Natalie because she was careful and had this angel's touch. I squeezed the seatbelt tight on her because I didn't want her to leave my side. We drove to a car show that was happening at the MaGee park at Sunray park and Casino. I got to hear the tale where Natalie once worked at a horse station and almost thought about applying for a stable hand job at Sunray once. When we parked, there was a lot of people there with tons of cars. They walked together while they looked at each car. But they'll never find something spectacular like me. No matter how much each classic car sparkled with paint, I was still as original as the song "Green Onions" in 1962. Hours later after the car show, we drove into town a little bit.

Later in May, I began to enjoy getting belly rubs and gentle tootle rubs in the house. That was when it became a habit. Natalie would rub for 30 to 45 minutes while I lay flat on the carpet. What followed later on that night, was shower time. I started feeling cleaner when I joined the two love birds and I began to get in the habit of begging Natalie to give me a belly rub. She would rub for 30 to 45 minutes while I lay flat-relaxed. What also followed along was shower time. I started feeling cleaner when I joined them because I'd get a washing well done and getting a thorough scrub. I felt like I was at a car wash and then afterwards Natalie, Nathan, and I went into Nathan's bedroom to watch TV and dry off. We watched a few episodes on Velocity so I could enjoy watching the last bit of Garage Squad, just before Chasing Claasic Cars came next. I didn't pay much much else attention to what Natalie and Nathan were doing behind me and didn't care. The last of Garage Squad intriged me because it was a 1967 Chevelle SS dedicated to a person who owned it with a V8 motor in it and the loved ones wanted it restored in original blue and white. I once was going to have a V8 motor installed inside me years ago because Randy had an idea to make me stronger when I liked being a mellow straight 6 engine, I was old and retired from "showing off my powerful engine" although it wasn't bad to dream that I had a V8 motor like the rest of the Chevelle muscle cars; by watching one on TV. In the episode, that car reminded me of my cousin that lives down the treet. He was just as lazy as Ol' Reliable when there's no clouds in the sky. No matter how many times I've tried to scedule a visit, my cousin sits in the yard and tells me that he forgot and he'll make it up to me, but it never really happens. So I gave up on trying to socialize with him since he's my only family member I had in Farmington New Mexico. I still go through the same thing with Ol' Reliable when he it's his turn to be driven. If he won't get up, I'd simply threaten him that if he wasn't up and out of my nerve in 10 seconds, I was going to drag his prat out and whip him with the thinnest branch outside. Ol' Reliable and I both knew we didn't like each other sometimes. If I want a break from town, I'll get my way even when I have to get mean and tough. This way, I can take time to relax and take a nap or watch Velocity. Whatever I chose, I was determined to keep my well-being in order.

Later the next day, I was out driving to stores in town with Jan, Nathan and Natalie when I spotted some classic cars on the road. They were out and about too. They were rusty and rough looking, but some were in mint condition and I thought to myself "that's why some people don't see other classic cars out and active much. On Velocity, those kinds of cars undergo a substantial amount of surgury to get going inside garages.

On some days, I would be taken into town whenever Jan got home. It would be McDonald's, Taco Bell, Family Dollar, and sometimes Wal-Mart or Safeway. Often it would be a stop at Little Cesear's Pizza. Whatever the case, if I didn't feel like going into town, I'd make Ol' Reliable or Tiny; Nathan's 1993 Ford explorer go into town. I knew Ol' Reliable was lazy but it would do him good to go out and be active like he used to in 1980. I was almost 50 years old. I would be a year older than Herbie, the love bug. I needed rest now and then to get off my shocks and body frame. Being the boss had its ups and downs these days of forcing Ol' Reliable off his prat when I don't like to be gruff. Today, was my relax day and this time it took me 8 minutes to get him moving after refusing to get up three times. I had to sit on him when he refused the fourth time. It was unbearably droll-funny to see him squirm as he tried to get free, but I held my weight down. I held Ol' Reliable for three minutes and asked him if he was ready to cooperate and do what I told him. He agreed with a weak response and I got up. I told him if he refused to me again, I'd sit on him for an hour until he couldn't breathe. He couldn't get my body stench off him for a week. I knew he didn't want that. On some days he and I hated each other and other days, we wouldn't even see each other on and off, but wouldn't hate each other because we kept to ourselves. I would go up and see Ozzie when Ol' Reliable was in town for a few hours just to talk and hang out with Joe. After that, I'd head back home, slip into the house and wait for them to pull in the driveway. By the time, they were finished unloading groceries, Natalie would sit down on the couch. I'd sit on Natalie's feet until I had my hind quarters rubbed every four nights a week, she'd massage my undercarriage that'd send tingles all over my body because it felt good to get massages while Ol' Reliable waited his turn, in Randy's chair. Then it would be hs turn to get a massage after I had taken a seat to nap in. I was so relaxed that I let the rest of the nerves absorb the serenity into my body. When the two of us had an equal attention, Nathan was posting photos of Tiny; his new he bought from FaceBook. He bought him a week before Nathan meet Natalie in March. I wasn't aware that Nathan took a picture of me sleeping. I usually didn't like it when he did that.

When I woke up, Nathan was on his laptop chacking his email. Natalie was wearing a tri colored alien necklace and it brought me back in time to wonder. What breed of alien that was chasing Impa, Gonzo and me? Natalie knew a lot about aliens and I dared to ask her on what she knew about aliens. After Nathan qas done with the laptop, Natalie pulled up a YouTube video about extraterrestrials. I had asked for this and I had demanded too much of the truth and now I recognized the alien that chased the three of us boys in the woods was a disturbing Grey alien from outer space. Among other planets, who knew where it came from nor what it wanted. All that was beyond me. Natalie had mentioned that Greys were aggressive for being 3 meters tall and they liked to torment people with tools and chemicals they invented. That would just shake the Skittles out of me as I got the chills from. Natalie told me how to identify the differences between the greys and the much bigger aliens in the images. I understood that the much bigger aliens were some kind of strange planetary outer space name that I never heard of; the Zeta Recuili and they were known as non-aggressive. Thinking back to that incident, made my oil churn. I didn't want to see anymore alien pictures nor did I want to find the interest of studying them. It was a mystery on where that alien that I saw many years ago, came from and why it was in the woods. I laid back down after throwing Candy off the chair and taking the seat for enjoyment. I wouldn't let her get back on even though she kept trying, I'd push her off and finally Candy sat somewhere else. This made me remember something that happened. It was when Impa and I were hanging out together. I was napping during our hang out time in the shade one summer and Impa was being annoying. I pushed him away and he flew 5 feet away from the curb. Candy had a retarded look on her face as if she didn't know what just happened. I laughed inside of myself after seeing that.

Later when Jan came home from work that evening, the four of us; Natalie, Jan, Nathan and I went into town to get something to drink as usual. While I was whistling "Jukebox Baby" by Perry Como on the way, I encountered Robin, the red and white 1967 Chevrolet Impala. a friend I met a few car shows back in 2013. He was in town too and still baring that "horseless Carriage" on his plate. We got caught up talking at the McDonald's drive thru on what's been going on in our lives. There was a long line at McDonald's and what better time to talk while I waited for someone to take my order. When you've bumped into a friend somewhere, it makes a perfect day.

Robin was a son of a whisker goat that informed everyone of events coming up even before they hit fliers mailed out. I first met Robin in the summer of 2012 at the Elk's Lodge just before the month of the 3rd car show, that year. I was singing "Rockin Robin" on my way to my parking spot on the grass, when a Chevrolet Impala said to me that was his name and his favorite song. I had no idea I was calling it nor did I know I was going to be parked next to him. Robin and I started out as strangers too becoming fast friends. Ever since Impa was gone, Robin made me realize that when I start dating, I would end up with an Chevrolet Impala, because I was an Impala guy...preferring Chevrolet Impala cars only. I just knew it. The rascally tin-road rodder had his personality following his perspective. It was almost like seeing a 1960s fun-animated and uptown television show come to life. He and I had almost everything in common beside the fact that he was a player with a few extra groove-and-cruise that looked good on him for being a lady-magnet. He was missing something in which he lacked that I knew best. I told him if he showed ladies what was all good under the hood, he'd be soaring into hearts of every one of them. After I had told him all that, the judges were all interested in Robin when I didn't mean for that advice to go to his head. Robin became the apple to everyone's eye and I was chop liver. I was a tiny bit disappointed in Robin for letting it all go to his head.

But I got over the disappointment, knowing Robin had not a single idea I was in a movie teaser trailer that was taken out for collateral reasons, so it was okay. It wasn't that good and I didn't want to be recognized for it such as being on T-Shirts, toys, and accessories. Robin however was getting prepared for the car show in July and asked if I was going to be in it this year since he was out for a stroll. I announced that I was taking the summer off from car shows. I wanted to go for summer cruises and enjoy the season to re-align myself after the chaos that passed. However, Robin was disappointment but he told me good luck and have a nice summer year. He wished I was in more car shows just like this one in July. I told him it was a blessing to see his mug again. He was delighted to see me again and hoped to encounter me next year.

As the traffic line reduced to a small number as my thoughts returned to the McDonald's drive thru. It was busy for a weekday, but I had a nice chat with Robin. We went to Family Dollar to get paper plates and ciggs that Jan needed. She needed cigarettes almost every day because she was frequently stressed out by never ending kids misbehaving at work. Especially the big kids because they had problems at home. Obviously, it had to be a sign of disprobation results of hating their own selves and taking their misery out on others. When we turned into Taco Bell that afternoon. It was a long line of SUVs, trucks, and sedans. I didn't have to wait again and Nathan didn't either just for a large Mountain Dew. We went to a gas station instead and it had been a priority that whenever there was a long line, there was a gas station that sells fountain drinks for less.

Next, we headed to Family Dollar and Jan got her things and we went home to relax. I rested a little because when night time came and I knew we'd go out again. I had a seat on the couch and let my gears relax before running again at 8 pm. It was a run-on schedule night after night that Nathan, Natalie and Jan all go into town, get drinks, run into WalMart or Safeway or Walgreens, then head to Family Dollar again and be home by 2 hours later around 9 pm or 10 pm.

When Jack visited over, we'd go out, get drinks, go shopping for the kid and get more Mountain Breezes from Safeway. Technically, Erik used to come in and check on Jack and feed him, but now he stopped caring except for coming in to play with him a few hours once in a blue moon. Jan took over and asked Jack if he got fed. As usual, it was always be a "no" and Jan would cook him a fried burrito or Ramen Noodle soups. I wished Natalie could feed Jack just to be thoughtful that way, there could be something to rub in Erik's face if there was a yelling fit, One of these days, Natalie would...one of these days.

In an hour later that night, Jan, Natalie and Nathan all went into town once more as I took them to the stores. Before starting up fast, I'd tease Nathan by cutting off power for a short 3 seconds before Nathan started me up again. It would be my game of start and stop. Once the ignition got turned on, I'd idle for 5 seconds and shut off and start again. I had been around the age of 49 years old and still enjoyed playing that game with Nathan for 8 years. Inside, I laughed a little as Nathan backed me up and zoomed out of the drive way. The first stop was as always, McDonald's to get drinks. Natalie didn't used to get small water. It would be either Coca Cola or Dr. Pepper which was horrid. Shay used to get those, but I was happy to know that Natalie ordering a water so she could slim down a bit. I'd overhear that she was disgusted in obese people and I don't think she wanted to be one of them. I didn't blame her. After encountering Shay, I didn't want her to look like Shay. Apparently, Natalie worked hard to keep her weight down.She ordered small waters and tried to keep her snacking down. She would chew gum, smoke her vaper, and drink water. I tell her if she does good on getting water for a few weeks, she can have a soda pop. While we're in town, our stop was always Taco Bell for the same old thing...a large Mountain Dew. This time, there wasn't much of a line and it turned out on my agenda, We started to go to Conoco gas station to grt Mountain Dew and drinks because Nathan got one where it was all watered down when it was fresh from the fountain. He's gotten a few that tasted like Diet Mountain Dew before and I had it, I was taking him to the gas station to get a Mountain Dew. It was a few dollars cheaper and then the usual places. Every two weeks, Jan needed something from Walgreens and we would go there. Other days, it'd be O'Rieley's for a part for Ozzy or the blue Chevy Tracker, but tonight it was safeway to get a few packs of Mountain Breezes so I didn't have to fear of traveling far because The safeway we go to was the little one a few miles from where I lived.

When we got home that night, Natalie would again try to carry all of the groceries inside so it didn't turn out to be two trips. She's carry 3 bags of groceries in one arm, 3 soda pop packages in the other. It would worry me that she'd trip and fall with a load in her arms. Nathan told her not to be doing that, but she does it anyway. She'd joke and tease me that she was falling with groceries in her arms when she had them all under control. It would worry Nathan too in the same way, but Natalie was was determined to carry a bunch of groceries in her arms like a professional. At least Nathan would get the door for her. A little later, it was back to relaxing time and as always I'd beg Natalie to give me a rub down on my chassis since I wanted something different than a belly rub or a front bumper massage while she was watching TV. She worked her toes as I laid in front of her. Her big toe worked in a systematic pattern and then, rubbing in one spot, she rubbed counterclockwise for 10 minutes. It was good to let my gears fall in the right place after a day's trip into town. I was old and needed to stay at the top pf my well-being for a classic car my type. It was once a while that my shocks would be sore from going into town. For a human, that would be like having sore knees, if walked on far more than 2 hours. I quickly fell asleep an hour later and it was already 11:30 pm when I woke up. Well son of a whisker goat! I didn't want to fall asleep again but who does when they're enjoying a massage?

I realized how exhausted I was and so I had a seat on the couch to return back to bed. My poor aching body was like old jello and not very steady either. They were weary too and I needed a day off so badly that I could hold myself up. I hoped tomorrow, I could get Ol' Reliable to take the three of them out to town so I could rest. But that next morning, it was Monday and Jan's car still wasn't working. She needed to get to work and I thought this would be the day that I would break my gears off. I was terrified. Nathan told her she could borrow me and he forked over the keys to Jan so she could go to work. Jan took a pillow to sit on and then we were off. I haven't been to Aztec in a long time and the minute the kids saw me again, I was complimented on when Jan got out. I was a cool looking car but Jan told them I belonged to Nathan. Although, I was as happy as Elvis Persley's hair combed back. I was going to perdict that I was going to have a good day. For the morning through the afternoon, I got to relax and watch the kids play and scream like a bunch of deranged monkeys fighting over a single banana. It was like a zoo but with little kids in the fence. Then 3 o'clock came around, I suddenly had a change of mind, I wanted to come back tomorrow at "Just Us Kids" in Aztec at the same time to be surrounded by the trees. I was still a scary car for Jan to ride in when she drove me, but at least when Nathan drove me, Jan enjoyed the ride with a lit cigarette and relax in the backseat. Again that night, we did our nighttime errands to get drinks and shopping. I got to relax today and I didn't have to travel anywhere. I felt it deep in my gears when I was enjoying the shade of the trees of that summer.

The next day, it was Tuesday and Jan took me again to work again. I realized I was temporarily going to be Jan's car for a few weeks because her car was still out of order. I got a lot of eye-popping looks from people walking by and driving in and out. I was still the original handsome, sexy gentleman in the parking lot. I got respect and got to have the shade all to myself. I did have my spontaneous thoughts all gathered up including being prepared to give Nathan a hard time with starting up, zooming to get drinks and going to the dollar store.

After 5 pm, Jan got off work finally. She had a field trip day to drive the bus with kids to the places they had in mind. Today, they got to go the swimming pool. Jan and I came to a halt on the way home at McDonnie's; as I like to call the McDonald's restaurant. We got a sweet tea to enjoy for the road. About 30 minutes later, we got home at long last. I had a seat next to Natalie on the couch. I had a good day and I felt how it was my day to be treated like a senior citizen for a grandparents' day. There wasn't much of an activity going on for the summer. All there was for the little ankle-biters to do were swimming, visit the museum, go to the Aztec ruins, visit the park and basically go back to the kids center.

On Wednesday, I parked close up to the center and watched Jan drive the bus away to the Aztec ruins. I picked up some apricots from the trees and decided to have some fun by throwing them at cars going by. So many people honked in anger on who the cheeseburgers did that. I was well hidden behind the trees where no one saw. I laughed as I threw a good shot at a KIA Soul zooming by. I sling-shit some more apricots at some more cars passing me by and five of them hit two cars that honked and swerved left and right on the highway. No one knew where those flying apricots came from nor who was throwing them. It was like watching TV only better and then I chucked four more apricots and hit one car on the windshield. Direct hit! Oh, it was just too good! All four apricots rained down hard on the car like falling starfruit splattering from three hundred feet down. I chucked another apricot at a truck and it smashed in a splat right on the driver side door, causing the truck driver to honk a few times. It was fun and I never got caught.

When I got home, I sat next to Natalie proudly. She asked me how did my day go and what did I do. I looked up with a face that read "I threw some apricots at cars and got away with it" with a quirky eyebrow twerk and a big smile. It was indeed a good Wednesday...a total Chevy day afternoon.

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 8 years ago

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Cover You in Oil, Pt11

Word Count: 5991 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander, @saysay125, @sistasarah-sallysaidso @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns Notes: any errors in the Russian are because I don’t speak Russian and blindly trust Google Translate. Which I know is not a good plan, but it’s what I’ve got ;)

Sally tossed a box of tissue at Steve as she walked into the theatre room. He took it, raised an eyebrow and met her amused gaze with his own questioning one.

“Trust me,” she warned, waving her own box at him. She settled herself into a loveseat, tucking her legs up, and leaned on the arm. Tony fiddled with the DVD player and the projector for a minute before queuing the movie, while Clint made popcorn and served out ridiculously large bowls. Sam strode in with Natasha just before Tony turned the movie on. He flung himself onto the couch between her and Steve and sighed.

“I am watching this movie under protest,” he announced. Clint passed him a bowl of popcorn and dimmed the lights, taking a spot on the arm of the couch by Natasha. Tony sat down beside Sally, putting his feet up on the coffee table, and Sally found herself stretching out and laying her head in his lap before the opening narration was completed.

“Hey, don’t anyone tell Cap the boat sinks,” Clint joked as the ship pulled out of harbor. Natasha snorted.

“You know this happened before I was born right?” Steve tossed a piece of popcorn at Clint.

“I’m pretty sure the earth’s crust hadn’t completely cooled before you were born, Steve,” Natasha quipped back, throwing a handful of popcorn at him. Sam held his hands up in protest.

“Some of us would like to watch the movie!” He exclaimed. “I mean, I’m not one of those people, but I’m sure someone here wants to watch it.”

“I actually do want to watch it,” Steve admitted. “I like the pictures.”

“We call them movies now, grampa,” Natasha teased.

“Shut up, Romanoff.” He shot a glare at her and she held her hands up in surrender. Tony ran his hand down Sally’s side and rested it on her hip, and she adjusted her head on his thigh and settled in to watch.

Near the end of the movie, a single tear splashed onto Sally’s cheek and she tilted her head to look up at Tony. He was lost in the movie, and didn’t even notice her move. She pulled his hand into hers and squeezed. He looked down at her and shook his head. She passed up a tissue and he rolled his eyes before grabbing it and wiping them.

“I’ve never understood this part. She should have sold the goddamn necklace,” Clint complained as they watched the Heart of the Ocean drop into the sea.

“Then that jackass would have found her,” Natasha argued.

“She could have got someone else to sell it for her. The thing was worth millions, she could have afforded to give someone some hush money to do her dirty business for her,” Clint disagreed.

“есть причина, ты один, dipshit,” Natasha laughed.

“Поэтому ты должен быть, что путь, лисичка?” Clint whined, and the conversation devolved into what Sally could only guess might be insults as their sentences got shorter and shorter. Natasha finally shoved him off the edge of the couch, laughing. Sally glanced over at Steve, and noticed that his box of tissue was open, and his eyes were a little puffy.

“Did you like it, Steve?” She asked. Steve flushed a little.

“It was good. A little cheesy, I think. I don’t know that I want to see it again,” he admitted.

“Deliberate emotional manipulation!” Tony protested, and stole a tissue from Sally to blow his nose.

“Worth it to see superheroes cry,” Sally shrugged. “Could the Iron Man suit rust? Like, if JARVIS played this while you were flying around doing shit, would you seize up like the Tin Man?”

Steve laughed while Tony sputtered. “It’s a titanium gold alloy. It’s not going to rust if it gets wet. And JARVIS is not going to test that theory.”

“You’re cute when you’ve been deliberately emotionally manipulated,” Sally teased, leaning up to brush a kiss against his lips. He rolled his eyes, and pushed her to sitting before standing up and stretching.

“I believe that is my queue to take you home, Ms. Manners,” Tony smirked, and lifted her up, dropping her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Sally squealed in protest.

“Put me down before you hurt yourself, you idiot!”

“Not gonna. Taking you home now. Good night Avengers. Disassemble!” Tony walked toward the elevator. He turned to face the gang after pressing the button. “Just don’t disassemble just yet. Get the next elevator, or take the stairs.” Sally laughed from her position and beat against Tony’s back with her fists.

“Put me down. All the blood is rushing to my head and making me feel sick,” she complained. Tony waited until the elevator doors closed on them, and dropped her gently on her feet. He pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I love you, princess,” he murmured against her hair. Sally squeezed him a little closer. “But you don’t get to pick movies anymore.”

“But –“

“Nope. What’s next? Old Yeller? ET? The Notebook? Terminator?” Tony’s voice was low and rough with emotion.

“Terminator?” Sally’s tone was perplexed. “Wait. You cried in Terminator?” The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped into their suite before Sally could notice the flush creeping up his cheeks. He poured them each a drink and met her before she got to the bar. Her eyes narrowed as she realized he was blushing, and she laughed. “Seriously?”

“It was a doomed romance!” Tony protested. “He sacrificed his life to come back and father the leader of the revolution!” Sally bit her lip to fight off the smile she could feel tugging at her cheeks and nodded, wrapping her arms around him.

“You’re so soft, Tony.” The wonder in her tone made Tony stiffen in her arms.

“I’m not soft.” His voice was firm, but Sally caught the lingering uncertainty.

“Dude, I love it.” She shook her head. “I love that you cried during Titanic. I love that you’ve cried in movies I found moving too. I love that you found something to grieve in Terminator. It’s sweet. I love where you’re soft, Tony. You have to be strong too much.”

“How can I protect-“

“Shut up,” Sally silenced him with a kiss. “You haven’t protected me for 35 years and I’ve survived.”

“You should remind me I’m a lucky man every chance you get, JARVIS,” Tony commented and rested his forehead against Sally’s.

“I will make note of that, Sir.”

“JARVIS, can you order a copy of Up too?” Sally asked. Tony squawked in protest and swatted Sally’s ass.

“Too much moisture will fog up the inside of the suit, you know,” he complained.

“I’ll hold your hand,” Sally reassured him with a smirk.

“Ms. Manners, I apologize for disturbing you, but there is a gentleman from Patrick’s Towing here with Mr. Barton’s car. He said you need to inspect the vehicle before he can confirm delivery,” JARVIS’s voice roused Sally from a sound sleep. She smacked her phone to look at the time.

“It is six thirty in the morning, JARVIS,” Sally complained.

“Yes, the gentleman actually arrived at five am, but I’ve been holding him off since then. He said the streets aren’t as busy early in the morning,” JARVIS replied. Sally rolled out of bed, and padded into the closet to find clothes. She rubbed her eyes and sighed, opting to turn around and steal jeans and a long sleeved Black Sabbath t-shirt from the drawer. She pulled the jeans on as she stumbled into the bathroom, wiggling them up over her hips, and then dropping them back to the floor in disgust.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And if it’s possible for a Cap-sized coffee to meet me in the garage, I will love you forever. I’m just not sure how you’ll manage that.” Sally pulled the t-shirt over her head and pulled her hair up into a sloppy topknot. She grabbed her toothbrush, pausing to pick up the jeans on the way back to the closet and opted instead to pull on her favourite yoga pants, clenching the toothbrush in her mouth as she pulled them on. She tossed the jeans, in disgust, back on Tony’s side of the closet, grumbling through toothpaste about them. She returned to the bathroom to rinse her mouth.

“JARVIS, where is Tony?” She realized she hadn’t seen him in her chaotic hurry between rooms.

“Sir is in his lab.”

“Can you order in breakfast wraps, and have them dropped in the garage in about twenty?” She asked as she headed to the elevator.

“Of course, Ms. Manners.” Sally stepped onto the elevator and descended to the garage. She walked out to Dum-E holding a giant cup of coffee and smiled broadly.

“Thank you, Dum-E! I don’t know how you managed that, JARVIS, but you saved a life,” Sally laughed, taking a long sip. The coffee burned her tongue, but the rich flavour was worth the pain. As the car came into view, Sally’s eyes lit up. And as she drew closer, she could feel her pulse start to race. It looked amazing. The tow truck driver was sulking on a stool and as Sally approached, he rose and walked toward her with a clipboard.

“I need your signature, and I’ll be out of here,” he handed the clipboard to her. Sally took it and dropped it on the tool bench.

“I need to inspect the car before I accept the delivery, this should only take a few minutes. Did anyone offer you a coffee?” She asked as she began walking around the vehicle. She opened doors, and lifted the hood, checked all the grooves, nooks and crannies. The tow truck driver sighed impatiently.

“Yeah, Mr. Jarvis there offered me a coffee. Security brought it,” he admitted. “Scared the piss out of me. I thought I was being kicked out.”

“JARVIS runs most of the day-to-day operations in the tower. He doesn’t deliver coffee,” Sally explained as she ran a finger along the doorjamb on the passenger side. “This is perfect. I’ll sign off. Will you be back by the shop today?”

“I’ve got a couple more tows to run for them, yeah,” he nodded.

“Let them know I’m really pleased and will recommend them,” Sally commented as she scribbled her name across the papers on the clipboard. She handed it back and he nodded.

“You bet, sweetheart,” he agreed. “That’ll make them real happy.”

“Thanks for being willing to wait,” Sally acknowledged, and offered her hand. He smiled.

“A good cup of coffee, and I got to check out Mr. Stark’s collection? It was worth the time lost,” he smiled and stepped back to his tow truck, climbing in quickly. He turned the engine over, and waved as the garage doors opened for him. Sally watched him maneuver his way back into traffic before turning back to the car. Clint dropped down from the catwalk, holding a bag that smelled like it might be the breakfast wraps she’d requested.

“Now what?” He asked, startling Sally. She jumped and nearly spilled her coffee.

“Jesus, Clint!” She exclaimed. “Warning! I am not a spy or assassin or Avenger. You can’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Right. Sorry,” he nodded. “So now what?” Sally narrowed her eyes and snatched the bag from him. She smiled as she opened it, and pulled out a wrap. Steak and egg. Perfection. Clint grabbed the bag back from her, and took the second wrap without comment, digging into it.

“I need to wire the electrical. It’s not something you can help with, so make yourself scarce for the day. When I stop for lunch, I’ll arrange for the upholsterer to come in. Should be done in three days now,” she replied. Clint nodded and headed toward the elevator.

“I’ll bring you a coffee in a couple hours,” he called as the elevator doors shut. Sally pulled the wiring diagram up on her tablet and got to work. Despite forgetting to ask for music, JARVIS set the playlist for her, and she found herself tapping her foot as she pulled and placed wires. She set in the lights and made sure they worked before starting on the dashboard wiring. It was fiddly work, but it was one of her favourite parts about restoring a car. With older cars, she always found that there was some weird wiring issue that the owner had never been able to fix, and going in with all new wiring and starting fresh made everything work the way it was supposed to. Even more than restoring and repairing and engine, she found that the wiring was what made a restoration go from good to incredible. And so she didn’t mind taking the time on it, to ensure it was done properly.

“Hey Sally, I brought you coffee and a bagel,” Clint called as he walked through the garage. Sally waved a hand and finished the section she was working on. Clint climbed into the car beside her to watch as she connected the windshield wipers. She leaned across his lap and pulled the bagel from his hand, unwrapping it to take a bite before handing it back.

“Thanks. I called the upholsterer about an hour ago. They’re coming this afternoon to lay the carpet after the wiring is finished from the back,” Sally explained, pulling another wire up to the switch and connecting it.

“I can’t believe you’re almost done, Sally. This is amazing,” Clint commented. “I mean, it doesn’t look almost done right now, but if you say so.”

“I’ve got wiring, installing the dash, upholstery, glass and that’s about it. A little bit of detail work, but the engine was the hard part,” Sally shrugged and leaned across his lap to snag another bite of her bagel.

“The engine took you two days,” Clint protested.

“The wiring is a pain in the ass,” Sally admitted. “But it is my favourite part. The homestretch is the best part of the restoration.”

“I still can’t get over this,” he muttered.

“You’re such a dork,” Sally punched him in the shoulder. “Didn’t you say you had a coffee for me?” Clint passed the cup to her and she took a sip, flinched, and handed it back.

“It’s hot,” Clint commented, a wry smile twisting his mouth. Sally shook her head and checked the wiring diagram.

“Stop distracting me or your turn signal will open your trunk,” she dismissed. Clint stayed sitting beside her, watching her work. Every so often, he would wave the bagel in front of her, and she would take a bite, but he recognized that she was in the zone and was not going to appreciate further conversational distractions. He tested her coffee for temperature before offering it again. “Did you just drink from my cup?”

“I was checking the temperature, your highness,” Clint drawled. Sally narrowed her eyes, but drank from the cup anyhow.

“Don’t do that,” she chastised.

“Do what?”

“Call me princess. Tony does it,” Sally explained.

“You don’t like it? Why not just say something?” Clint asked.

“I did, and he’s still doing it,” Sally answered. “Don’t tell him, okay? I actually kind of like it, from him. From you it sounds condescending and obnoxious and I want to punch you in the nose.”

“Noted,” Clint nodded, and handed her the last bite of her bagel. “Are you planning on running today?”

“No, Pepper told me there was a gym onsite, and I thought I might go find the pool today. I’m going to leave the upholsterers to do their thing and take a break,” Sally sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll swim or just veg in the hot tub, you know? My skin is dancing.”

“Your skin is dancing?” Clint made a face. Sally pursed her lips and squinted, as though she were trying to capture a lost thought.

“Yeah, I don’t know how else to explain it. I sometimes get, I don’t know, almost agitated, I guess, with the need to get out and do something different. So I usually switch up my gym routine and that settles me. If I don’t manage it, I usually wind up making bad decisions,” she explained. Clint nodded.

“I know exactly what you’re talking about. Nat calls it the idiot trying to escape because I don’t clue in like you do, and I just go ahead and let the stupid happen,” Clint laughed. Sally joined him and nodded.

“Yeah. I try to placate the idiot before it escapes,” she giggled. “I’m hoping a dip in the pool or a soak in the hot tub will do it. Because the next least harmless activity is going to be going out dancing, and let me tell you, that always leads to bad decisions.”

“Well, and right now it might cause a small riot,” Clint countered. Sally looked puzzled. “Tony’s not gonna let you go without him, and that means the rest of us will have to tag along, and then crazy will totally happen, and bad decisions will be made by everyone.”

“You cannot convince me that Steve has ever made a bad decision,” Sally laughed.

“Following you out dancing would be one,” Clint countered. “And I could tell you stories about that man –“

“But you won’t, Barton, because you like breathing,” Steve commented as he strolled over. He was in a grubby pair of jeans and a threadbare t-shirt, and Sally realized he was headed to work on his motorcycle. “Barton likes to make us all work for our dignity, Sally.” Sally whooped with laughter.

“There is definitely a story there!” She exclaimed. Steve shook his head and turned back toward the Harley.

“I’m not telling, and Barton knows I’ll win a fair fight.” Steve winked over his shoulder and crossed the garage. Sally looked expectantly at Clint. He held up his hands in surrender.

“You heard the captain, Sally. He’s my teammate,” Clint shook his head. “And he’d win an unfair fight too.”

“Spoilsport,” Sally grumbled, but smiled so Clint would know she didn’t really mean it. Clint nudged her with his shoulder.

“Maybe you’ll just have to choose dancing to see what bad decisions he can make,” Clint hinted. Sally laughed again; a short burst that startled Steve into looking back across the garage. Clint climbed out of the car and shot a reassuring glance at Steve. “I’m gonna go get myself some real food. Are you good?”

“I am.”

After Sally had settled the upholstery team to work on the carpeting, she excused herself to go find the pool. She’d brought a sensible one-piece suit with her, and was grateful for it when she dove into the cool water of the deep end. The last time she dove into a pool in a bikini, she’d nearly lost her bottoms. She swam laps until her muscles fatigued and then found her way into the hot tub.

“Ms. Manners, Sir would like to speak with you, if you have time,” JARVIS startled her out of her state of relaxation. She tapped her phone and saw three missed calls while she’d been soaking in the hot tub.

“Sure, where is he?” Sally stepped out of the tub and found the bathrobe she’d stolen from Tony, wrapping it around herself before heading toward the elevator.

“He’s up on the lounge level. I think on the patio,” JARVIS replied.

“Well then,” Sally stepped into the elevator, “take me there please.” The elevator doors slid shut and left Sally to her thoughts. When the elevator doors opened, Sally could see Tony outside, looking over the city, drinking what she suspected was a vitamin drink, if the brilliant green colour was any indication. She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back.

“I was looking for you,” Tony murmured, placing a hand over hers. Sally laughed against his back.

“Not very hard, JARVIS found me without a single issue,” she teased.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he replied. Sally slipped under his arm, and forced herself into the space between him and the ledge. She looked up at him and took a deep breath.

“There is something on your mind?” She waited until he looked down at her to ask.

“Always,” he laughed. “But this is something new. I’d planned to give you a hard time about it, and lead with a tale about how I’d ruined that black dress you bought in the laundry, but I’d found something else, but that all seems to trite in this moment,” he smirked, and traced the back of his hand along her cheek. Sally’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“So you didn’t wreck my dress?” She asked.

“No, I was very careful with that dress. You looked amazing in it,” Tony laughed.

“Okay. So what did you wreck?” Sally wondered. He shook his head.

“No, see, that’s why I decided that wasn’t the way I should do this,” Tony tried to explain. Sally raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, well, hit me,” she said. “Not that I’m in a hurry, but I am still on the clock with the car.”

“You’re dripping water on my feet, in my bathrobe and I’m guessing,” he paused to pull open the bathrobe just a touch, “yes, a frumpy one-piece bathing suit. You can’t be on the clock or you’re cheating SI.” Sally laughed.

“Okay, you caught me. I’m not currently on the clock, but the upholsterers will probably be done pretty quick, and then I’ll need to get back at it,” Sally admitted. “Way to keep me honest.”

“Well, first, Pepper has been fielding some requests for any kind of announcement from us, but I wanted to know what you wanted to say before I said something that might upset you,” Tony trailed his hand along her side. She nodded, a shiver racing across her arms.

“I just don’t know what there is to tell that the news hasn’t already told?” Sally asked. Tony stepped back and put his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know how much you know about my mother, but she didn’t like ostentatious shows of wealth,” Tony changed the subject. Sally’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She used to say it was really hard, when she first met my father, for him to accept that she didn’t need him to buy the moon and sky for her.”

“She sounds like my kind of woman. I’m sad I’ll never meet her,” Sally smiled. Tony responded with a half-smile.

“She would love you. Mother was committed to charity work, and would love how much you’ve given back. She’d love that you are self-made in a traditional man’s field. My father would love you because he loved leggy blondes,” Tony winked. Sally shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“I’m hardly leggy, and this isn’t exactly blonde.” She flipped a strand of hair off her shoulder.

“I’m not going to argue about the perfection of your legs, or what exact shade on blonde your hair is, princess,” Tony chuckled. “Mom didn’t want to be handed the world on a silver platter, and when she and my dad got serious, she made it clear that she didn’t want any ridiculous shows of wealth as gestures of love. According to her, it took him a while to figure out what she meant, but when she said he did finally get it right when it was most important.”

“Well, you Stark boys are supposed to be geniuses, so –“

“I don’t want my ego to ruin what you’ve worked for,” he interrupted, holding a finger to her lips. “I hate the thought of you heading to Europe for five months, but I’m not going to play that game with you because one of the things I find most attractive about you is that you are your own person. And I don’t ever want to threaten that. Or us. God, this is harder than I thought it would be. They tell you it’s hard, but I just figured lesser men –“

“Point, Tony?” Sally’s comment brought him back to his original thought.

“Right. It probably to soon for this, and I’m probably jumping the gun, but impulse control has always been one of my failings.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, and took one of hers with one of his. “What I’m trying to get at is that it would make me so happy if you would accept this from me. As a token of my esteem? As a promise that when you are back, we’ll move forward?” He opened his free hand and revealed what was very obviously a late-50s-early-60s-vintage engagement ring. The band was yellow gold, and there was a beautiful clear square diamond, bigger than Sally had ever seen, set simply at the centre of the band. But Tony was right. It was big, but most celebrities were sporting diamond engagement rings easily five or six times the size of the diamond in the ring in Tony’s palm. Sally’s mouth went dry.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Sally breathed.

“Marry me, Sally. Marry me, and make me complete. And I don’t mean before Latveria, just promise that we will do this the right way once you are back. That we will become a family. That we will figure out how to keep your work just as important as mine. I had no idea that finding you would feel like this. But you’ve grounded my dreams in reality, and I want to make them real with you.” The words flew out in a rush that Sally barely understood. She looked at the ring, and back to Tony, the earnest longing making her short of breath. She looked back at the ring, trying to block the rushing ringing in her ears, and blinked before looking back at Tony.

“Princess, you’ve got to say something,” he pleaded. Sally forced herself to take a deep breath and closed her eyes. He was still holding her left hand, she realized, and reached up to touch his face with her right.

“Your mother’s ring?” She asked.

“It’s only fitting,” he nodded.

“You’re that certain?”

“More than anything else in my world. I spent all night in the lab trying to figure out all the ways that I don’t deserve you. My math is never wrong. I don’t deserve you. But here you are, and my name is on your skin, and I don’t want this, whatever it is that I am feeling to ever stop, Sally, I’m –“

“Babbling,” Sally laughed. “You’re babbling, Tony.”

“Because you aren’t saying anything,” he prompted. Sally’s eyes filled with tears.

“I would be a fool to reject you, Tony.” She shook her head. “You, in all your imperfection, are perfect for me.”

“You’re going to have to say it clearly, and for the record. JARVIS, you are recording this, right?” Tony asked.

“You’re an idiot, Tony Stark. But you’re my idiot. Yes. Once I get back from Latveria, we can figure out how to get married,” Sally laughed. Tony whooped and pulled her into a celebratory kiss, sloppy and excited.

“Oh, shit! Ring!” He exclaimed, letting go of her abruptly. He took her left hand again, and slid his mother’s ring onto the finger. It was a perfect fit. Sally held her hand up in awe.

“It’s stunning, Tony, but you know that most of the time I won’t be able to wear it.” She ran her thumb over the surface of the diamond, a sad smile pulling at her lips.

“I know. I’d rather we not have a long engagement anyhow. Christmas wedding sounds about perfect to me. Then I can get you a work-appropriate wedding band,” he agreed.

“You get that I’ll be overseas, until then, right?” Sally laughed. “Hardly in a place where I can organize the type of society wedding that the world will expect of Tony Stark.”

“I can handle it,” Tony assured her. She raised an eyebrow.

“JARVIS?”

“Ms. Manners, I assure you that Ms. Potts and I will ensure you have exactly the wedding that is expected. As well as the wedding you would like. Ms. Potts would like to sit down with you this evening to discuss some items,” JARVIS reassured her. Sally laughed and gave Tony a knowing look.

“You were that certain?” She asked.

“Sir was not certain at all, but Ms. Potts and I discussed the likelihood of the proposal, and potential of your acceptance, and I calculated a 93.427 percent probability of you accepting, with a 98.693 percent probability of Sir wanting the event as soon as you return from Latveria. We have been making plans accordingly,” JARVIS answered again. Sally laughed.

“Ninety-three and a half percent, huh?” She asked.

“You do seem quite fond of him, Ms. Manners,” JARVIS excused. She laughed even harder and looked at Tony.

“Well then, Anthony Stark. It would appear you and I have a date at the altar in December.” She leaned up and kissed him gently. His arms came around her and responded, pulling her against him for a lingering kiss.

“This calls for a party. JARVIS –“

“Ms. Potts has already been planning that as well, Sir,” JARVIS interrupted. “The upholsterers are finished, Ms. Manners. If you could meet with Ms. Potts before you return to work, she will help you make some decisions about the event tonight.”

Sally blinked and looked up at Tony. “That was fast.”

“Pepper is remarkable,” Tony smirked. “I’ll let you get showered and down to see her.”

Pepper, Sally discovered, had already booked a venue for the wedding. She had four menus to choose from, was having cake samples delivered the following day, and had scheduled a private dress shopping appointment at Kleinfeld for the next evening. She explained everything over coffee in her office. They sat kitty corner to one another, a coffee table with fabric samples and a veggie tray between them. Sally was impressed with how comfortable the couch she was on was, to the point she was almost distracted from the conversation.

“It would appear all your free time between now and leaving for Latveria has been booked up, Sally. I’m sorry,” Pepper apologized. “Now, did Tony talk to you about your flight to Budapest?”

“No?” Sally was reasonably sure they hadn’t spoken about it.

“I took the liberty of having your tickets cancelled. SI will fly you over in the Gulfstream, and that will give the two of you some time together that you will now not likely get otherwise,” Pepper explained. Sally bristled slightly at having her plans changed, but Pepper put a hand on hers and smiled with such an understanding look that she couldn’t remain annoyed. “It’s going to take some getting used to, I know. Your worlds are irrevocably entwined now, Sally. And sometimes that means Tony is going to make demands that are just easier to compromise about.”

“Gulfstream? So comfortable?” Sally thought out loud. “I suppose I can learn to survive that.” Pepper laughed.

“The party tonight is completely planned. I started putting it together the day you discovered you were soulmates. All that remains is for you to choose what to wear. By this afternoon, there will be a half dozen dresses here for you to choose from,” Pepper looked down at her tablet. “There will be media tonight, Sally. I think it only fair to warn you –“

“I figured there would be, Pepper. Tony’s kind of a big deal,” Sally interrupted. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Pepper nodded.

“Are you okay with this? I know you and Tony were off and on for a lot of years, and I just –“

“Don’t even finish that thought,” Pepper cut her off, holding up a hand. “Tony and I were an experiment in repeated acts of stupidity. I love him, but at this point, like an annoying brother who needs constant babysitting.” Sally laughed.

“With the two of us together, you might have to hire another sitter,” she quipped.

“He’s already more settled, Sally. He’s drinking less, and drinking less recklessly. I caught him in the gym doing something other than beating up Happy yesterday.” Pepper shook her head. “And I know you’re not one for big spectacles. You’ve already been good for him. He’s seeing past himself.”

“If he’s your bratty brother, then that’s going to make you my sister-in-law,” Sally teased. Pepper across the edge of the coffee table, and gave Sally a warm embrace.

“I’d always worried that Tony’s soulmate would see me as a threat. I’m so glad that is not the case, Sally,” Pepper admitted.

“I’m so glad you don’t hate me,” Sally sighed. Pepper shook her head, and refocused their discussion on engagement party and wedding plans. She looked up at the clock on the wall and started.

“I’ve stolen longer than I’d planned, Sally, I’m sorry. You’ve got to get back to the car. I’ll see to the rest of the arrangements for tonight, and will have JARVIS let you know when the dresses have arrived.” She stood and walked Sally to the door.

Sally found Clint haunting the garage when she arrived. “Long fucking swim, Manners,” he commented as she crossed the floor. She handed him a coffee and scowled.

“The woman who is paying me needed to talk to me,” Sally retorted. Clint smirked.

“Show me the rock,” he demanded, reaching for her hand. “That’s a lot less tacky than I expected from Stark.”

“It was his mother’s,” she commented. “And I love it. And if you know already, then you know about the party tonight?”

“I surely do,” Clint nodded. “I’m taking Tasha as my date.”

“Well, I have a lot of work to do, and I owe my mother a phone call, so if you’d like to scoot again.” Sally glanced at the elevator expectantly. She pushed herself up on the tool bench and dialed her mother’s phone number.

“Sara! I wasn’t expecting a phone call,” Beth Manners’ voice sounded surprised.

“Somethings you just don’t text, Mama,” Sally laughed. Beth gasped.

“Send me a picture of the ring right now, young lady,” Beth demanded. “Wait, I need to grab my iPad.” Sally laughed and took a quick photo of the engagement ring.

“Should be on the way,” Sally said as she hit send.

“Oh Sara, it’s stunning. Is that his mother’s?” Beth asked.

“It is,” Sally admitted. “We’re going to have the wedding over Christmas. I’d already booked your flight, but we might have to change the return date depending on what the actual date is.”

“That gives me plenty of time to get my dress cleaned for you,” Beth said. “Although it’s probably not appropriate for a society wedding, given that it is tea-length.”

Sally laughed. “Pepper is planning on taking me to Kleinfeld tomorrow night. I’d like to wear your dress at the reception, if it fits. I won’t have much time for alterations. I’m leaving for Europe in less than a week, and will be back just in time for the holidays.”

“There is no pressure for you to put that dress on, Sara. Marrying a man like Tony Stark, Sara,” Beth paused. “There will be scrutiny of your every move, including your choice in dresses. It was a very fashionable dress in 1969, but I don’t know if it has stood the test of time.”

“I love your dress, Mama, and if I can fit it into the wedding, I will,” Sally promised.

“Put me in touch with this Pepper, and I’ll have it shipped out,” Beth said. “And ask her to keep me involved in the plans.”

“I will, Mama,” Sally promised. “I’ve got to get back to work on the car now. I love you.”

“Love you more.”

#avengers fanfic #tony stark x OFC

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