#good mornin everyone !!!! my organs hurt

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I love the colors you use, they’re so cartoony and fun and full of life

thank you !!!!!! BIG fan of colors i am really

[leonw4nter]

Are they? Are They Not?

Architect!RE2R!Leon x Boss!Reader

Tags - fluff, making out (it's short tho), office romance

“Good morning everyone! Picked up some coffee so we can all start the day right!,” Rebecca cheerfully chirps as she enters the office. She stops by everyone’s desks, placing paper cups of steaming hot coffee with their names before knocking at your door, the company’s COO. “Come in!,” you call out. She enters the organized office, spotting you sitting on your office chair and turning your work computer on. She notices a steaming hot paper cup on your desk, along with a brown pastry bag. “Got you some coffee but turns out you’ve already got a cup in. Oops,” she says with an apologetic grin. “It’s fine. I could use the extra caffeine anyways,” you respond with a polite smile. She leaves the cup on your desk before turning back to the door, walking out the office when she spots Leon come in.

“Mornin’ Leon!” “Good morning, Rebecca!”

Rebecca walks over to her desk and decides to officially start her day, answering emails and editing the current contracts that've been assigned to the company. Soon, the noise of chatter is drowned out by the clickity-clack of keyboards and ringing landlines. The morning can get busy very soon, not that they mind; the company does a swell job of making sure its employees are doing alright and are managing to balance their personal and work lives. People pour in and out of Y/N’s office, hoping to get her opinion or approval on a project before having their ideas sent to the CEO (aka Y/N’s dad). Most of the time, their ideas align perfectly so her approval could be seen as a sign that he’ll approve it too. It’s now break and everyone rises from their seats to stretch and get up to grab a bite.

“I’ll go ask Y/N if she wants to go grab lunch with us,” Leon offers just as Rebecca gets up. Rebecca nods before responding, “Okay. I’ll go join the others already.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s busy consulting with the engineers and said she's sorry and will make it up to everyone with drinks one of these days,” Leon explains before digging into a breakfast bagel. Despite it being lunch time, he prefers to have breakfast foods.

“Did she ask for help? I can help her out since I’ve got a blueprint or two to review then I'm done” Claire offers. Leon shakes his head but says that he thinks she’ll accept Claire’s offer anyway. The group continued chatting over their respective meals until it got to the topic of their coffee consumption.

“My brother is a beast– out here chugging protein shakes and coffee. I’m surprised he isn’t having a heart attack whilst I’m out here palpitating with two cups,” Claire pipes in.

“I don’t know what’s worse: your brother’s caffeine consumption or the sheer amount of sugar and creamer Rebecca puts in her coffee,” Jill jokes, earning a playful smack to the shoulder from Rebecca. “At this point it’s 99% sugar and a measly 1% coffee. How you’re not diabetic is beyond me!”

“Life’s too short to not absolutely go crazy with sugar and creamer, let me have my fun!,” Rebecca retorts and earns good-natured laughter from the table.

“How about you, Leon? How do you like your coffee?,” Claire asks.

“I’m not too picky with coffee. I’ll take anything,” Leon responds.

“Hmm. You’re just like Y/N; I just get her whatever kind of coffee and she always takes it,” Rebecca responds.

“Y/N? Oh she doesn’t like or drink coffee,” Leon corrects. Jill nearly chokes on her muffin when Leon says those words, eyes slightly widened. “Really? She’s the first person I have ever come across that doesn’t like or drink coffee.”

“But she literally accepted all the coffees I got for her!,” Rebecca says. “Wait… what if she just accepted them to look polite or nice–”

“Knowing her, she probably did that to not hurt your feelings or something…,” Jill softly says.

“She could’ve told me she doesn’t drink coffee. I would’ve gotten her a hot cocoa instead,” Rebecca says. “Guys, do I look intimidating? What if she just took the drinks because my outgoing-ness is intimidating her? We do know she usually keeps to herself too–”

“You’re the least intimidating person I know, Rebecca,” Jill responds. “She might’ve done that because she felt kind of bad… or something– I don’t know–”

“And how do you know that, Leon?,” Claire asks with slightly narrowed eyes, leaning into the table while resting her head on her hand.

Now everyone in the table is sitting in silence, curious gazes focused on Leon as to how he knows that. You've never talked about her preferences in food and drink– it’s not even on the company website. They don’t think it’s ever been mentioned anywhere.

“Oh, you know– we talk,” Leon responds with a neutral tone. “Oh my God Leon you almost got yourself killed! Calm down, calm down. They won’t catch on,” Leon thinks to himself.

“Talk? Talk like how?,” Jill asks.

“‘Talk’ as in we’re just coworkers who decided to strike up a random conversation whilst working on a blueprint that one time,” Leon says. He would’ve looked calm and composed– unaffected even, if it wasn’t for the tips of his ears flushing pink and his subconscious leg jiggle. “What?” Leon asks as Rebecca and Claire shoot him smirks that scream “is it what we’re thinking?”. “Can’t a guy and girl talk like they’re just coworkers?”

“You have a point,” Claire replies but Leon doesn’t miss how her blue-green gaze falls on his pinkish ears. They decided to drop the topic, much to Leon’s massive relief. “That was a close one, Leon. Careful next time,” he thinks to himself. Well, you two did more than just talk that day– no, not in that way; you exchanged numbers, began hanging around each other more frequently until you two took secretly took things to another level. Since there was only 15 minutes left before their break was over, they decided to leave early and go up to their office.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Hey baby,” you softly say as you walk over to Leon’s cubicle. The others had already gone, the office dark except for Leon’s spot. He had stayed overtime to finish up a model so he would be free for the weekend.

“Hi,” Leon softly said as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. “Stayed a little later to finish the playground but I don’t regret it one bit if it means some time spent with you.”

“Congrats for making my heart race a million miles per hour,” you giggle. Leon shoots you a flirty wink before he finishes up packing his bag. “Ready to go, milady?”

“Let’s go,” you respond. You two leave the dark office, looking around for anyone lingering. You part your hands from his temporarily, making sure no one catches you holding hands with an employee; it’s not exactly rule-breaking to be fraternizing with an employee but it is highly discouraged. More importantly, it’s not exactly the best of look to be caught in such an act especially when you’re the daughter of the head of this entire company.

“Coast clear?” Leon whispers, to which you nod. Giggling like two school children who just confessed their crushes to each other, you two make your way down the dark hallways hand in hand. Leon kept stealing glances at you, a nerdy but hopelessly in love smile plastered on his face. Despite the lack of lights, you could accurately guess that there’s a glimmer in Leon’s eyes whenever he looked at you like you’re the sun, which you kind of are since you lit up his world.

Not too long after, you two get in your car. After starting the engine, Leon suggested that you two take his car so he could open the door for you and be the one to treat you lavishly, to which you responded with a small nod and an “I’ll think about it”. Leon connected his phone to your car’s bluetooth speakers, going to his Spotify and picking out a playlist he made that reminded him of you. Upon hearing the lyrics of the song, a warmth crawled up your cheeks and manifested in the form of a soft pink glow. Seeing your reaction, Leon beamed brightly as he leaned back in his seat.

“You know it’s your birthday next week,” Leon says, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you two.

“Yeah, it is. Why, you wanna know what I want for a gift?,” you ask.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Oh then I guess just wear a light pink ribbon on your hair and call yourself a gift. Your presence in my life is the best present ever.”

“God that’s so cheesy,” he says with a small laugh. He keeps his gaze trained on the tall buildings around you two because he knows he’s going to scream like a girl if he looks at you once more. “It’s not a bad suggestion though.”. After a few minutes, you two finally reach Leon’s condominium.

“Good night baby, see you tomorrow,” you say whilst pulling him in for a kiss.

“Night, Y/N. Text me when you get back, okay?,” he says. You nod before he finally waves bye and shuts the door.

You’ll definitely be sending him some texts.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After another entire week of staying overtime and finally finishing the mountain of work assigned to you, you finally get up from your chair to move your body a little bit. This day went great: meetings went smoothly, everything on your planner happened, and most importantly, it’s your birthday. Of course, your father and those close to him greeted you and though you didn’t mind if someone know (or doesn't know) your birthday, the gesture warmed your heart.

“Baby?,” Leon called out.

“Huh? Leon?,” you asked. He emerged from the dark, a dainty bouquet of pink and white tulips in his hand, along with a card. Just as you recommended last week, there’s a baby pink ribbon clipped on his hair.

“Oh you didn’t have to–”

“I didn’t have to but I wanted to,” he says before pulling you in for a slow, tender kiss.

“Happy birthday to my only girl.”

Words won’t ever show how truly thankful you are for this gesture so you show it through actions. You pull him in for a hungry kiss, hands travelling to his black tie to loosen it up. Leon places your gifts on your desk, his finally unoccupied hands going to his own tie to help you loosen it faster. You kick your heels off, legs wrapping around his waist as the kisses slowly become more heated and passionate. His hand travels to your blazer, nimble fingers quickly wo–

“Happy birthday, Y/N–”

“WOAH WHAT THE FUCK.”

“CLAIRE PLEASE DON’T DROP THE CAKE.”

“LEON! Y/N?!”

You quickly push Leon off of you and get back up, fixing your hair and feeling around your clothes for any unclasped buttons or pulled down zippers. Embarrassment rushes through your veins, your heart lodged in your throat. Leon’s embarrassed too– shimmery pink lip gloss smeared on his lips, blond hair ruffled, and his tie hanging loose around his neck. His entire face is red and suddenly it’s not so bad if the ground collapses and swallows him up (though he prefers if you swallow him up but now is not the time).

“Uh… hey guys!,” you chirp with an awfully fake smile.

“Hi guys– we were–,” Leon stammers, hand behind his neck.

“Hey guys, if you were busy… we can… we can wait outside…,” Jill awkwardly mumbles, eyeing the poorly hidden bouquet on the desk.

“Yeah… we can wait outside the building if it’ll be noisy too,” Rebecca adds, which causes Leon to almost choke on air and for you to stare at her discombobulated.

“NO– No guys, you can um– now is fine, I promise–,” you stammer. Leon follows suit, trying to make it look as if you two weren’t interrupted in the worst way possible.

NOTE - I saw the reception of my first fic in here and it's looking positive so far so thank you very much! The likes, reblogs, and new followers mean so much to me and I seriously started contemplating telling my parents that I write (I'm so not telling them lmao). I hope you guys enjoy this fic just like you have with my other one!

The dividers (the doodle-y ones) are made by @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[devinescribe]

By Your Side

Ch. 7 of “My Sunshine” [TreechxReader]

Warnings: bombing, mentions of explosions and being hurt, nothing too graphic in my opinion, and cursing.

You hadn't even noticed that you fell asleep last night. It was still dark out when you woke up, but decided to shower and get ready for the day. You dressed in your school uniform and headed out.

You wanted to go to the zoo and talk with him but realized you'd see him first thing in the morning.

You walked into the classroom, shocked to see Coryo already there.

"You're here early," you mused, siting in your seat, one in between left for Sejanus.

"I could say the same for you," he retorted, still reading.

You shrugged, "Figured I wouldn't be able to go to sleep after so I just got ready...."

You lay your head on the desk, looking up at the blonde, who was reading something. You didn't care what it was about. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes, how hollow his cheeks looked, his perfect blonde curls lay on his head, the only bright thing about him besides his eyes. His eyes weren't just blue. They were ice blue. A single glance was enough to send ice through your veins and make you regret looking at him.

"Staring is quite rude you know," he mentioned, finally putting his book down.

You sighed and sat up, looking him in the eyes.

Holding eye contact was important to you. It showed people were listening, and that they cared.

"Have you heard from Clemensia?" You asked, suddenly remembering the girl.

He looked away.

"I... I last heard she just wasn't feeling well-"

"Don't lie. You can say nothin' or you can say the truth, but do not lie to me," you spat, your tone coming out more harsh than you meant it to.

The boy looked down. You apologized, truly not meaning to come off so rude.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," you whispered.

"...it's ok. You're tired and stressed dealing with all of this-"

"An apology doesn't begin with an accusation. Nor does it begin with deflecting your actions onto other things," you interrupted.

Most people in the Capitol were used to giving half assed apologies that put the blame on everyone but themselves. It was obvious that Coryo wasn't used to that.

It was weird, calling him that. You didn't know why he gave you the permission to do that.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Good morning (Y/N)... Mr. Snow. Quite the early risers aren't you?"

Dean Highbottom sighed, placing his bag onto his desk.

"Couldn't sleep. Decided I'd get here early.... Dr. Gaul never mentioned when I'd have to turn in my paper. I got it done, but I wasn't given a time to give it to her," you mumbled, remembering the brown folder in your bag. You pulled it out carefully.

"Well, before we head to the arena, she will be here. Give it to her then. I'm sure she will appreciate you getting it done in such a short time... with everything that's happened," Dean Highbottom said. "Your father wasn't too pleased with your stunt, I assume?"

You went back to last night where your father kept yelling through the door despite your sobs.

"Not pleased at all..."

He hummed and went back to putting papers in drawers and organizing.

"Your father is... much like Sejanus's father in a way. Wished everyone would forget he was district so he hates his people almost more than the Capitol," he mused.

You nodded. Coriolanus scoffed besides you.

"Is there something you would like to add to the conversation Mr. Snow? I'm sure your father would be rolling in his grave seeing you with your songbird," Highbottom said, his eyes staring directly into Coryo's.

A scowl slowly crossed his features, this icy blue eyes clouding over, blizzarding with hatred.

The air filled with tension and you let out a relieved sigh at Sejanus's entrance.

"Good morning to you all," he said, a little too happy for someone getting to the academy at 6:30.

"Mornin'," you responded as he sat next to you.

He gave you a dopey smile and you were honestly suspicious.

"What's got you lookin' like that sweetheart?" You giggled, poking his shoulder.

"Oh? Just that... I know something that makes me happy. Nothing you should worry about," he said with a smile.

You looked suspiciously between both boys who seemed to be acting strangely. Dean Highbottom stepped out of the room and you looked at both of them.

"You kissed each other didn't you?"

"Ew-"

"(N/N) why would you say that?!"

"I would never ever even think of kissing a Pli-"

"I would never even even think of kissing him-"

"Neither of you are denying it."

Their faces of mutual embarrassment and disgust made you laugh.

The boys shared a look and immediately looked away, blushing furiously .

"I was just joking... but you've both been actin' so strange..." you mumbled.

They let out a sigh of relief.

"Can't believe you thought I'd kiss him of all people," Coryo muttered.

"Not like you've kissed anyone anyway," you teased.

"Neither have you!"

The three of you stared at each other in silence until bursting out in laughter.

Once again, forgetting who and where you were. Sej and you weren't District to Capitol, Coryo was a Capitol Prick.

You were just kids. Like you'd always been.

——

The three of you walked together to the arena, behind everyone else.

"I ain't ever seen you smile that much let alone laugh," you giggled.

"Your face when Dr. Gauls hand was on your shoulder? Fucking priceless," Sejanus laughed.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes but smiled.

Maybe... the districts weren't that bad. Hanging out with the two district to Capitol kids made him understand Lucy Gray a bit better, and internally he wondered if he saw them as friends or as pawns to get closer to her.

"When I gave her my paper I thought she would shoot me down right there!" You whispered with a laugh.

The rest of your classmates were so ahead and lost in their own conversations, you knew they couldn't hear.

But the chatter and laughter died down as you reached the arena. You saw the tributes lined up by district, boy girl.

You silently slipped next to Treech and smiled. He looked at you and gave you a small smile back.

You could feel his fingers softly reach for yours and you slowly enveloped your hand with his.

"Missed you."

"Missed you more," he whispered back with a grin.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Mind getting your hands off of my girl?"

"Oh go fuck yourself, Creed. I am not yours not at all, I've never been and your entitlement to me disgusts mes I am not an object to own," you hissed at him, rolling your eyes.

The boy immediately cowered and ran off.

"Tail between his legs... he's such an army brat," you scoffed.

"So that's Festus Creed," Treech mumbled.

You turned to him, "You know who he is?"

The boys face turned bright red.

"Well it's just Sejanus mentioned him-"

"When did you talk to Sej?"

He wouldn't meet your eyes. He knew if he did he would spill everything. Every single thing he'd been thinking.

He was thankful that in that moment, you all began to enter in the arena. A red glow from some lights gave it an eerie feel.

"Thank you, enjoy the show."

You shuddered at that. How gross. Disgusting. Dehumanizing. They were being sent to their deaths and that was what they had to hear before it?

You saw Coriolanus and Lucy Gray holding hands and slowly letting go in front of the cameras. You looked up at Treech. His face was wiped of any emotion, yet you watched as his eyes filled with fear.

You kept his hand in yours, squeezing it for comfort.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled to you, so quiet you almost didn't hear.

"Hey, hey... you're gonna be ok... I promise I'm getting you out of this alive. I can't... I can't loose you," you mumbled to him.

The mentors and tributes split up. Most mentors went to talk in their own groups, leaving the tributes to talk amongst themselves.

"Hey, lumberjack!"

You both turned around. You a bit upset at the audacity of someone calling him your nickname and also out of curiosity.

Who were you kidding you were upset about someone calling him your nickname for him.

It was Coral.

It could be beneficial for him to be in a group... but groups turn on each other.

"Lamina-" he called out, getting interrupted.

"No no. You. Just you."

You looked at him to see what he would do. His hand slowly left yours as he walked over to the group.

You were immediately saddened by this. But had no time to react as a hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away.

"What gives!?" The voice whisper yelled.

Pup Harrington.

Lamina's mentor.

"I can't control what he does or who he goes with," you responded.

"I thought we would be allies at least-"

"You never discussed becoming my ally-"

"Thought it would be a given considering they are from the same district! How stupid could he be?! The group is going to-"

"Listen. I cannot control him. He picked the group. He is not stupid, he knows they will start killing each other. And I'm sure I'll figure out a plan. Lamina is strong willed, she's a strong climber... she will do well," you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Pup wasn't as bad as the rest of the kids in class. Mostly kept to himself.

"Alright. I hope you know what you're talking about."

And with that you walked off in separate directions, only taking a step before a loud bang was heard.

Bombs.

The bombs were going off everywhere and you were thrown back from the shock wave.

Your ears rang as you looked up, double vision everywhere. There was dust everywhere and bombs were still going off. Fire.

You shakily stood up, trying to keep your balance. You coughed, covering your mouth with your sleeve.

Tributes were running, you heard some say the gate was open, and saw them running towards it.

The world spun around you and you took a shaky step, before noticing there was people standing n the ground. It struck a fear into you that you hadn't felt since the war.

All those bodies. Burned. Bleeding out.

Then your mind turned to how Treech would hold you close in the bombings, covering you from any dust.

Wait... Treech.

Where was he?

Your breathing became heavier as you panicked looking around for him and sign of him.

"Treech! Treech!" You screamed out, your voice ringing and echoing across the chaos filled hall. 

Peacekeepers shoved past you, shooting their guns. You screamed in fear, falling to your knees again, covering your head.

A scared child.

That's all you could think of. The bombings back home, the bodies, your mind raced with thoughts of his body being one of them and screamed with tears streaming down your face.

The center of the arena started to fall and you tried to back away, failing at doing so, but succeeding at getting cuts all over your palms

"(Y/N)!? (Y/N)!"

Strong arms picked you up and took you away from the middle, where beams of steel and concrete fell.

"You alright? Hey, hey? Stay with me alright... fuck you've got some nasty cuts." The voice muttered.

You looked up and saw the person you had been screaming for. Your arms wrapped around him and he cried out.

He was hurt.

You stood up carefully, both of you leaning into each other. He tried to drag you back to where you had come from, but you stopped him.

"No, some people ran away that way, don't want them to think you're runnin' away too. They'll shoot you dead, please," you begged, coughing. There was dust and smoke invading your mouth, throat and lungs.

He gave a shaky breath and nodded.

You two were trying to find help. Anyone that knew a way out.

You'd never been here, so you didn't know...

Coryo.

Coryo had mentioned coming here as a kid, his family used to have one of the private boxes to watch the games when he was little.

"Gotta... find Coryo, he'll know the way out-"

You felt his arms get ripped away from you, and heard him cry out in pain. You turned to see a peacekeeper, grabbing him and pulling him away. Another peacekeeper did the same to you.

Some of the glass stuck in your arm was pushed in by his hands and you screamed out in pain. Your body was finally aware of all the pain it was in, the adrenaline to survive fading out, making you pass out.

_____

It had been about three days in the hospital drifting in and out of a painkiller haze. You hated it. Nurses came in and out, but Sejanus was the one who came to visit more often than not. The games had been delayed once more due to kids being hurt and in the hospital. The mentors of course, not the tributes. The interviews would happen at the end of the week, the games the day after. If you could be there, you could be there. Your release day was set to be the day of. Meaning today.

You woke up in the hospital. You were drowsy from what had happened and the medicine they had given you. Sejanus was beside your bed, and smiled softly when he saw you had woken up.

"Please, tell me is he ok?" You asked, pleading with Sejanus, who had been released the day right after the bombing. His injuries were minor compared to a lot of the others.

"He's good as can be... had to get stitches for one cut on his back but the vet-"

"Vet?"

Silence filled the small area.

"You mean to tell me... that we survived a bombing... got rushed to the hospital... and they got thrown back into that zoo cage... and they have a VET attending to them?!" You shouted.

Your heart monitor started going up, beeping harshly.

"Hey, hey, hey... calm down. I know. I get it... I was pissed off when I found out too, but...  it's... better than nothing I guess..." he muttered.

You were getting released today. You would see him tonight.

The nurses came in, and finally signed the discharge paperwork.

Sejanus walked you home.

You had been lucky. Mostly shrapnel that had been imbedded in your skin. Some dust and smoke in your lungs, but nothing coughing it out didn't fix.

The worst part had been the necklace. You didn't lose it, but the nurses were not careful, breaking the chain.

"Hey... cheer up. In just... two hours you'll get to see your lover boy," he said with a smile.

You blushed and looked down.

"We're just friends-"

"(Y/N), please. You like him. I think you always have. It's obvious to everyone else. And I think you should tell him. Plus..." he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket, opening it for you. "Friends don't just keep a ring on a necklace or one letter you sent years ago."

It was the necklace, but it was fixed. Nothing had been changed, it was your necklace from Treech.

"I saw it on the bedside table broken and... god, I know how important this is to you. I took it to get fixed. All they did was fix the chain," he said with a smile, putting it on you.

"Friends don't look at each other the way you two look at each other."

Hehehehehehehe so uh... heyyyy

I'm keeping it a bit more accurate to the book than the movie. Treech will also be in the arena more book than movie. Yes, he's starting off with the pack, but after some time, he is going to do what his book self did. In case some of you who only watched the movie were wondering why tf my timeline is so off. It's not, I'm not making up the funerals or any of it, it happened in the book. How are you guys liking this story so far? Do I entertain you?

[luffythinker]

Kirishima/Monoma fix I found that held me by my neck because it was funny as fuck

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51689083

It's the line

“Your job is what you get paid to do,” Monoma said snobbishly. “And since it’s my money that pays your salary, your job is what I tell you.”

That had me smiling like an idiot

WHEN I TELL YOU MY JAW DROPPED OH MY GOD OH MY GODKJDSLKSDKJSD

THIS IS THE LINE FOR ME

“It’s all you do, because you’re an attention whore. I just don’t let you use me for your little ego trips and it hurts your feelings.”

everyone check it out this fic is so good, it's gold really

[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 3

so here is the 3rd part. maybe some more will follow ...

Part one Part two

Daryl had woken up before dawn. He had always been an early riser and, like you, always one of the first to greet the new day.

You yourself were only half asleep. Immediately you noticed when he began to move as he slowly left the dream world.

With his right arm still around you, he pulled you tight. At some point during the night you had turned your back to him and now he was spooning you from behind.

In his arms you always felt so safe and secure, as if nothing could happen to you in these moments.

"Mornin'", you heard his deep voice, which was still very rough from sleep.

"Good Morning."

Daryl snuggled up close to you and you had to laugh lightly, because his stubble tickled your neck when he kissed you there - still sleepy.

Only you knew this side of him. For everyone out there he was the fearless redneck who hardly spoke more than two sentences to anyone; the loner who should not be messed with.

Only you knew the gentle and loving man who kept looking for your physical closeness; the passionate lover who never seemed to get enough of you.

"Have any plans for today?"

"I'll take care of the chicken coop with Jake and Josh."

"Jake and Josh," Daryl asked confused.

He raised his head and looked at you questioningly.

"Yes. The two have experience in construction. I already spoke to them yesterday."

"Who are Jake and Josh?"

“They're from Woodbury. You know them."

"Don't know who ya're talkin’ about," Daryl said, still trying to remember them.

“Jake and Josh, the two brothers. Big, black hair, tattoos on the upper arms …"

"The two who look like bouncers?"

“Yes, exactly this two. Together we will try to build a beautiful new home for our chickens."

"If ya want."

With these words, Daryl pressed a longing kiss on your shoulder before he broke away from you and slowly left the bed.

You first stretched yourself with relish before you turned around and watched your boyfriend get dressed. A warm feeling spread in your body at the thought that this man was your man, that this man wanted to be your man. You were so incredibly happy. You would never trade Daryl for anything or anyone in the world.

When he approached you and leaned over - his hands propped up on the left and right of your head - you were still lying in bed dreaming.

He had to go, after all, his shift on the Guard Tower soon began.

"See ya in the fields then", he said with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, you have to do without me today. Rick and I want to look for a location for our chicken coop first thing today."

"Ya're breakin’ my heart," he whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, longingly and so full of love.

"I'm sure you will survive," you smirked.

---------------------------------------------

Contrary to your usual practice, you had helped Carol prepare breakfast that morning while you waited for Rick. Typically, you would always start your days in the gardens to get much of the work done before the sun got too stinging and made the job difficult.

But today you were only there for a short time, had brought the chickens there for the time being. You wanted them to take care of the pests that are currently making life difficult for your plants - hopeful that they would not attack the freshly set lettuce plants.

It was unusual for the residents of the prison to be woken up so early in the morning by the screams of their newest roommate. It was not to be underestimated how loud this little feathered guy could be. The young rooster, however, was not deterred by the confused looks and kept crowing while he watched his girls who happily scratched the ground.

People would get used to it sooner or later, you were sure of that. Apart from the fact that the poultry's permanent residence in your community was not up for discussion anyway.

These animals would ensure your survival and were essential to building a secure future. And your hope was anyway that it would not be the only livestock that would populate your little farm in the future.

Even if some ex-Woodbury residents were not exactly happy about their boisterous and loud alarm clock. First and foremost Michelle, who made a rather pinched impression when she showed up in the canteen that morning.

She had avoided you since the incident during your run. You were actually very happy about it, only the look with which she was looking at you gave an idea of how much she displeased you.

But you did not have time to think about it that day, after all, a big construction project was waiting for you, and by the time you and Rick went to inspect the site, you had long since forgotten about the blonde woman.

-------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was not lacking in the Prisons office complex, it was pens and paper. Whoever took care of the administration here before the apocalypse broke out was a real hamster.

So it was easy for you to organize the necessary material to start drawing the plans right away. After all, organizing such a building project was easier with a blueprint than without one.

The place was chosen, now all that was missing was the plan and the necessary building materials.

The plan was your responsibility, and the men would get the necessary building materials.

Rick, Jake and Josh were already gathering everything necessary to start construction as quickly as possible.

You approached the matter with a lot of patience, trying not to forget anything that could be important, while line by line you put your new chicken coop on the paper. There was a lot to think about.

The stable had to be built on stilts so that the ground did not start to rot at some point if it was constantly standing in the damp earth, and still be stable. Inside there had to be enough space for cleared nests and perches, and the stable had to be easy to clean, after all, it had to be mucked out regularly.

Concentrated you sat over the plans and tried to consider everything, that you had lost all sense of time.

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

You were just thinking about a possible extension - should the chicken population grow faster than you thought - and had not noticed that Daryl had approached.

"Believe it or not ..." you began absently, but you did not get very far.

"But yar mother taught ya how to build a chicken coop when ya were a child," said Daryl with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smart ass!” You said curtly, without even looking up from your work.

But then suddenly you stopped. Thoughtfully, you looked up at your boyfriend and thought for a moment.

"Was that just a déjà vu?"

You looked questioningly at Daryl, who was still standing next to you, grinning. By now he had leaned over your blueprint, resting his left arm on the table while he placed his other arm lovingly between your shoulder blades.

"No seriously. Who taught ya that. Looks really professional."

Silently you looked at the drawing in front of you again. A painful tightness spread in your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe. You had not thought of him in a long time, you hardly had time to longingly mourn the past.

But here and now the grief suddenly and unprepared attacked you.

"Jeff," you whispered with a sad smile.

"Your brother?"

"Yes," you nodded.

Slowly your gaze changed, was no longer thoughtful and dreamy, and Daryl noticed that you were getting sadder from moment to moment. He knew about your brother, after all, you had mentioned him repeatedly before.

Everyone had those times when they thought of loved ones who they probably would never see again.

Back at Hershel's farm one night you had told Daryl about Jeff and how close you had been as children. And with tears in your eyes you had talked about what had probably happened to him when the dead began to walk over this world.

If he had known in which direction this conversation was going, he would never have started it.

“As children we always built tree houses,” you finally began, still smiling sadly, “once we even tried a trapper's hut. After all, it survived a winter. He was great at that; then he even studied architecture. Did I tell you that? Immediately after graduating, he took a job in Denver, where he met his great love. And then the offer came from New York. He and Valerie had only just moved when ... "

You had to take a shivering breath. Since the beginning of this apocalypse, you had not heard from him. And the likelihood that he was still alive was almost zero.

"’m sorry … shouldn't have asked."

It hurt Daryl to watch as you tried to bravely swallow your tears. He had not intended to reopen the wound the loss of your family had left. During your story, he sat down next to you on the bench and was now lovingly stroking your back.

"You do not have to be sorry. It's nice to think of him again. Even when it hurts."

"Don't think he would have loved me that much," Daryl laughed bitterly.

“Oh believe me, Daryl, he would have liked you,” you said with a smile, before you couldn't help but grin, “at least before you tried to get into his little sister's panties. Then he would probably have fed you to the next best walker."

"Would have been worth the risk”, Daryl whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.

You looked lovingly at the man next to you. You were so grateful to have him by your side. He was your little island of bliss in this sea of horror. Even the painful memory of your brother only hurt half as much when he was with you.

"How is the planning for the new home of our chickens going?" Asked Carol as he sat down at your table with Judith.

"Quite well. The only question that remains is whether we want to make it winterproof or do we want to take the chickens into our buildings in winter. We currently have enough space."

You instantly found your coolness again; were calm and collected like nothing had happened.

Since so many people joined your community, you tried to keep your feelings to yourself more. And with a few exceptions, there was only one person inside the prison fences who also knew your vulnerable side. Who knew every aspect of your personality, every dark abyss of your soul, and loved every single one of it.

Daryl.

"I don't have a lot of experience with it," admitted Carol, "but I suppose these animals are not very frost-proof."

“Not really,” you smiled, “so we should give them nice winter quarters within the walls. Just to be sure."

"But one with enough space, hopefully we'll soon have a lot of chicks," Daryl said mischievously.

"So I don't need to add scrambled eggs to the menu anytime soon," said Carol with a shrug.

"Not for the time being. Sorry."

------------------------------------------

Daryl was leaning on a shovel at the construction site of the new chicken coop. He had just dug the last hole in the ground, in which one of the wooden posts would soon find its place – to form the basic structure of this building.

With a certain amount of pride, he watched you take on the construction supervision of this project with seemingly effortless ease. You organized the individual construction phases cleverly and nimbly, so that even experienced construction workers like Jake and Josh could be guided by you.

You were ready to listen to every single suggestion and weigh the pros and cons without losing sight of the goal.

Daryl was fascinated by this new facet about you, he had never noticed it before.

Here and now you seemed like a born leader. You could guide and be helpful, but at the same time you could be strict and get your way through when it was necessary. You also knew how to handle hammer and nails, how to perfectly level a construction site - and you were absolutely not afraid to lend a hand yourself.

It was obvious that this was not your first construction project to be implemented. Every single one of your movements was safe and you did not hesitate for a moment if help was needed anywhere.

Little by little, on that day, a chicken coop was actually built on the now leveled lawn, with four walls, a roof and a small access bridge for the little animals, whose coop stood on almost 15-inch-high stilts.

Inside you had perches installed and separate niches in which hopefully the next generation would soon be hatched.

"And now," Rick finally wanted to know as he stood next to you, exhausted.

"Now we need some straw so that the girls can make themselves really comfortable in there. And then they can actually move in."

"I'll get the straw," said Daryl, turning around and going on to tackle the easier part of the move.

He knew only too well how difficult it was to catch these damned beasts, and now he was not going to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"Then I'll probably take care of the poultry," sighed Rick.

"Do you need help," you asked with a knowing smile.

"No, I think I can handle that."

"If you think so."

Less than five minutes later, you were hunched over with laughter. It was so funny watching Rick as he tried to catch the chickens. Two Woodbury residents wanted to help him but had even less chance of getting within three feet of the poultry.

It was an incredibly funny spectacle, especially when Rick was lying on his stomach in the dirt at some point, and one of the chickens quickly jumped over his back to finally - with a loud cackling - run away.

"Do you think they need help," said Maggie, who meanwhile had to wipe away her tears from laughing.

"If we want to bring the chickens into the barn today, then we have to," you laughed, "but I haven't had such a good time for a long time."

For two more minutes you and your best friend watched the show in front of you, until you finally felt sorry and stepped in to help.

Still giggling, you shook your head, took the bowl with the grains that you used as chicken feed and walked slowly towards the frightened creatures, while Maggie slowly approached from the other side to get any outliers back on the right track.

You shook the bowl in your hand noisily as you walked through the gardens.

"Tuck tuck tuck," you started calling the chickens while you kept shaking the bowl.

It was not long before the animals began to watch you curiously. When they finally approached you - hoping perhaps to get some food - you made your way back to the chicken coop; without stopping to attract the poultry further.

Maggie followed a few yards away to make sure none of the chickens disappeared.

Finally, you stopped in front of the open stall door and sprinkled feed in the stall and on the step bridge for the chickens.

It took less than five minutes and all the animals, including the rooster, were safely stowed in the hen house, ready for the first night in their new home.

"Couldn't you have done that right from the start," said Rick, a little annoyed, as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

The embarrassed grin on his face betrayed that he was not angry at all, but rather was busy trying to keep himself from laughing at himself.

"If we had," replied Maggie, "that would have been only half as fun."

"Yea, Haha, it was so funny." Rick said sarcastically.

“Oh yes, believe me Rick, it was. It definitely was."

“For the future, Rick; ya should never mess with farmer-girls”, grinned Daryl, who of course did not miss the whole spectacle.

------------------------------------------

It was late, just after sunset. You had made yourself comfortable on your bed and were absorbed in that old western novel that you had found in the library of the prison. You had been a veritable bookworm even before the Apocalypse, and now that there was another opportunity to indulge in this hobby, nothing and no one could stop you.

In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp your eyes wandered over the lines on the already slightly yellowed pages, while blissful silence enveloped you. Your day had been busy, and your muscles felt sore after the unfamiliar work.

You would spend the first half of the night alone today. Daryl had taken Rick's shift at the Guard Tower after Judith was weep today and just did not want to let her father go. Apart from the fact that Rick had been more than exhausted after today's chicken adventure.

But Daryl was happy to take over his shift immediately. He just had a weakness for this lil asskicker - as he affectionately called her. One day this stubborn redneck would become a wonderful father. You had known that for a long time, even if he still doubted it.

> KNOCK KNOCK <

"Yes," you looked up from your book, confused.

Actually, you didn't expect any more visitors. The door opened slowly, and Maggie stuck her head through the gap with a smile.

"Hey Y/N/N, am I bothering you?"

“No, not really. Why?"

"Where's Daryl?"

"Guard Tower. He's taken on Rick's shift."

"How long will he be gone?"

“His shift has just started. Why are you asking Maggie?"

"So we have time for a girls-night!"

"Think so?"

"Perfect, I also brought gifts."

Hardly a moment later the young woman was on your bed with you, her legs crossed, while she grinned mischievously at you. It took a few moments before you noticed the cloth sack in her hand.

"Please tell me that you don't plan to take out your nail polish and make-up now. I don't think I'm in the mood for it."

“No, don't get silly. No nail polish, no make-up, and we're not going to do each other's hair. This is going to be more of a grown-up version of a girls-night. "

"Okay Maggie, just for the record, you scare me."

Jokingly, she gave you a clap on the shoulder before opening the sack in her lap and looking inside happily.

"Well, first of all, something that every woman can use nowadays."

And with that she got a cardboard box about 4x2 inches out of the sack.

"May the days be less of a problem during the days," said Maggie, handing you the box.

Confused, you looked at the thing in your hand. It looked almost new and the writing was easy to read.

When you finally understood what you were holding in your hand, you looked in amazement at the woman in front of you.

“This is a lady cup. Where did you find that?"

You could hardly hide your astonishment. You had not seen anything like this in years, and not only once did you wish you had not left yours at home.

“This Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove. Not just in terms of the preserving jars. "

“So that,” you held up the little box, “will make all this menstrual shit a lot easier during an apocalypse. Slowly the tampons became really scarce. And I was so afraid that sooner or later I would have to do the thing with free bleeding too. However, I don't think I would be able to do that with my daily routine."

"You can say that again. Mine is already safely tucked away in my cell."

“It's interesting how the priorities change when the world suddenly ends,” you philosophized while looking at the little box in your hand from all sides.

"You're right."

"I think if the world weren't so close to the edge, I wouldn't be where I am now," you said thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about Daryl and you?"

"No … yes … somehow ... yes. Daryl and I would probably never have met. We would never have gotten together. And to be honest, I don't like this idea."

“Even if that sounds pathetic now, but you and Daryl, you two are meant for each other. I think you would have run into each other either way. I can well imagine that you two would have happened one way or another."

“You have to say something like that, Maggie, you are my best friend. But thanks anyway. And as for you and Glenn ..."

"Oh that was just sex," laughed Maggie.

“And sex became love,” you smiled conspiratorially, “and don't even try to deny it. Any blind person can see how much you love your Korean boy."

“I don't mean to deny anything. But at least it wasn't as much of a drama with Glenn and me as it was with the two of you."

"What are you talking about?”

With mock insult, you cross your arms in front of your body.

“Oh come on, Y/N/N, that was really like a soap opera. You have no idea how desperate we all were because the two of you couldn't handle it."

“Yeah, thank you, don't remind me. With the amount of tears I've shed because of him, this whole prison could be flooded. I'm just glad that Michelle leaves me alone now."

"And I thought you'd be glad you and Daryl are a couple now," Maggie replied mischievously.

"You are so stupid sometimes," you laughed and playfully pelted your friend with your pillow, "of course I am. Very much."

"I know what you mean. She was so after you. That was really no longer normal. She felt like a high school bully to me."

"Yes, thank you. Please don't remind me. I'm just glad she stopped chasing after Daryl."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," said Maggie with a shrug.

"Why?"

"Wait a minute, you don't know?"

"What shall I know?"

"Daryl gave this woman hell."

You stared at Maggie in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth wide in shock.

"He has what? When? Where? Why? How?"

“You were still in the infirmary. Daryl was more or less busy moving. He partly overheard a conversation, "began Maggie meekly, and you noticed how uncomfortable the whole thing was for her, "that was really not intended, honestly. But he heard Carol and I ... well, we talked about how we actually blame Michelle for it - that you almost died. Especially after she scolded you for so long. Though I would have liked to have punched her earlier because of that, just like Carol."

"And how did Daryl react to that," you asked nervously.

"Well, first he confronted us, and then he snapped into protection mode."

"Oh shit."

"Yes. He then went to Michelle and confronted her ... although he didn't even really let her have a say. The woman got the lecture of her life. I'm actually surprised that you didn't hear Daryl in the infirmary, the way he screamed."

“Wow, I know what it is like when Daryl freaks out. I'm almost sorry for the woman."

"Seriously? That woman messed you up for weeks and now you feel sorry for her? I think she deserves what she got."

“I said: I'm ALMOST sorry for her, not that I feel sorry for her. That's a difference Maggs."

“Well, whatever. In any case, that was the last day that Michelle got close to Daryl."

You tried to hold back a grin as you looked at Maggie through your eyelashes.

"Does that sound bad when I tell you that I even enjoy the fact that she has disappeared from our periphery."

“No, it doesn't. I understand that. And I am so glad that you two are finally happy together."

Your friend hugged you lovingly.

"Thanks."

“Where we are on that subject right now. I still have something for you. Or rather for both of you. So that you can have fun without a guilty conscience."

And with that she reached into her cloth sack again and took out another box. Larger than the previous one, and two more that looked like toothpaste wrappers.

You looked at your best friend questioningly.

"Read", she just said and held out the larger box to you, "read."

Confused, you took it from her and began to read. After the first few words your eyes widened, and you stared at Maggie in shock; your mouth opened wide. Hardly a moment later you grabbed one of the other packages and read the label.

"Oh my God. How? Where?"

"As I said, this Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove."

"Amazon sold something like that?"

"Seems so."

"Oh my fucking god", you shouted a little louder and still couldn't believe what you were holding in your hand.

"Yes, I think you will soon call that more often in these four walls."

Instantly you froze and looked at Maggie in silence and wide-eyed. Hardly three seconds later you both started to laugh loudly, as if on command. You just could not believe what this woman had brought you from that run.

A bloody condom was nowhere to be found within a radius of no idea how many miles. But Maggie had somehow managed to find a diaphragm with the corresponding spermicide gel in this huge hall complex of a former mail order company.

"Do you think the stuff still works," you said thoughtfully after a while.

“According to the expiration date, it should work for at least another year. I don't think it'll take you more than a year to use it up, though,” Maggie said mischievously.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Thanks would be a good start."

"Thanks. I mean that honestly."

"No problem."

"Please don't get me wrong, it's not that Daryl and I aren't having fun, but ..."

"But sex brings a certain closeness that you can hardly achieve in any other way," Maggie completed your train of thought.

"Yes."

"To be honest, I have to show you both my respect."

"Why?"

"Well, living so close together, being together without ever really having sex ... I don't think Glenn and I would manage that. No matter how good he is at the thing down there."

“Well on that point I can't really complain. But thank you for this gift. I really appreciate it."

"You're wellcome."

“Normally I would say I'll think of you when I use it. But in this case …."

"Oh my god please don't."

And with that, both of you laughing, continued to dedicate yourselves to your girls-night.

Maggie and you were just having a great time about how Rick had tried his hand at catching chickens today. It had been a divine spectacle. The two of you had not been able to laugh at something like that for a long time - as you did today at Rick - who at some point lay face down on the floor while the chicken ran nimbly over him.

“Am I botherin’ ya?” You heard Daryl's deep voice at some point.

You and Maggie were surprised to see the redneck standing in the doorway.

"You're back," you asked in amazement, your cheeks still reddened from laughing.

"Yes? Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh god, what time is it," Maggie wanted to know.

"A little after midnight," Daryl replied in surprise.

Neither of you expected that. The time had passed by, and neither of you had noticed how late it was.

“Oh my god, I have to go back. It's a miracle that Glenn hasn't sent a search party yet."

Still laughing, Maggie gathered up her things and quickly made her way back to the cell block, but not without yelling "see you tomorrow".

"Did you have fun?"

"Obviously."

"Was this a kind of girls-night or somethin’?" Daryl asked while he took off his crossbow and put it in its place.

"Yes, something like that."

"Like > painting each other's nails < and so?"

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and punished the man across from you with a slightly annoyed look.

"Seriously?"

"Yea."

"No. No nail polish, no makeup. And before you ask, we didn't do each other's hair either."

"No, just laughed at Rick tryin’ to catch the chickens today."

A smile tugged on Daryl's lips as he thought of that afternoon's show.

"Oh come on, that was really funny. And you laughed yourself. Don't think I didn't see that."

"The poor man was pretty exhausted after the whole story."

"Yes, but he didn't want my help ... at least initially. I just hope Judith lets him sleep tonight."

"Well, otherwise we have to expect a grumpy Rick tomorrow."

"Unthinkable!"

Theatrically you held your head and fell back on the bed, on which you were still sitting.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find ya awake," Daryl finally said as he took off his jeans.

“Wasn't planned that way either. But Maggs and I kind of lost track of time."

"Typical girls."

"Newsflash smart ass: I'm a girl."

"Already noticed."

Slowly you realized how tired and exhausted you actually were. You stretched yourself with relish, and some of your joints cracked before you relaxed and snuggled into your pillow.

"Tired?"

"Yes, very."

"That's what happens when ya're up all night instead of sleepin’."

"Oh shut up and come here," you said, just slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am."

Hardly a moment later you felt the mattress next to you dipping in due to its weight. He put his left arm to the side to make room for you. As if on cue, you snuggled up close to him and nestled your head in the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

Daryl put his arm around you. He lovingly began to draw patterns on your back with his fingertips. A feeling of absolute happiness flooded you as you just enjoyed being close to him. The tender caresses on your back relaxed you more and more, and you already noticed how you were slowly falling asleep.

"I'm proud of ya," you heard Daryl whisper.

His rough voice made his chest vibrate under you.

"Why?" You asked, already slightly sleeping.

“Ya did a great job today with the chicken coop. I'm really proud of ya," Daryl muttered before giving you a long kiss on the top of the head, "and Jeff would be too."

[courtlyharlequin]

omg this event you've made is so adorable 🥺🥺 congrats on 100 followers too btw! 🎉🎉 for my request... I'd like to order a Lavender Rose White Mocha with Cater please !

The Only One

Warning(s): female reader, mutual pining, slight angst, slight fluff at the end

A/N: Aww thank you, Marzi~ And I’m at 250 now. Whoops lol. This took so long to write because I wanted to make it angsty even though it was supposed to be funny.. I literally can only write angst. It’s kind of sad. But Cater is good angst material ohoho~ But don’t worry it’s just a little sad not heart wrenching. I hope you like it

Cater took a liking to you. More than he would've liked. It was silly, after all. You were just another regular at this coffeeshop. There were a handful of you, but out of all of them, he just had to like you enough for it to be labeled as a crush by his colleagues. His juniors poked fun at his "special treatment" towards you. But what of it? There was nothing. He simply thought you were down to earth and nothing more.

You were mundane, nothing striking about your appearance. You were pretty, yes, but you were pretty in a way where everyone looked at you for a moment, concluding that your appearance was a little above average, then turn away and rarely ever steal a glance at you again. You dressed comfortably and did not care much about how others perceived you. You dressed for yourself, nothing sparkly, nothing that stands out too much. To someone like Vil Schoenheit, a fellow barista, you would be named a potato on the spot. If you were a potato, you would be Cater's favorite potato. But, you're not a potato. You were more like a yellow carrot. A simple vegetable, but striking in your own, unique way.

Punctual, you were. You came to the café every day at the same time to order something to-go and leave within ten minutes. The only exception was on the weekends because you reserved those days to catch up on sleep lost during the week whilst selling your soul to the oh so prestigious Night Raven College, the school which he also attended. He saw you around, but never properly conversed with you.

He preferred keeping his fondness for you as a customer as just that– fondness.  Fondness from afar. He liked this invisible bond you two had, how he just knows what you're in the mood for, how he prepared a shot of espresso especially for you, and left it on standby, waiting for you to claim it.

There was nothing more than that. You weren't even friends. He was content with the fact that he could even talk to you at all. Perhaps it might be a self-projection, but he liked you because you seemed to have everything Cater ever wanted– an appearance that wasn't over the top and a distaste for all things eye-catching and glittery. But most of all, an authentic personality. You were real. There was no pretending. You didn't beat around the bush when ordering your initial order– the rosé latte.

"I just wanted to see if my soulmate is here," you smiled.

But they weren't. Or so you said.

"He's not here, I guess..."

Anyone would have been crushed, but you... you shrugged it off and came back the next day and the day after that and the day after that. You came every, single day.

Cater made sure not to touch on the subject of soulmates during your conversations. A little part of himself hoped that you were "the one", but he knew from his sisters' horror stories, that love does not always last. From their tales, he was much more cautious and hoped for someone while aware that they won't be around forever. "The one" is not just the person you first lock eyes with in a hallway. "The one" is always your first kiss or your first time. "The one" could be from a different universe. "The one" was unrealistic.

When he had met you, it was love at first sight and also love at first response. When you admitted that you believed the rumors about the latte unlike the many customers who denied the fact that they were desperate for love, Cater was taken aback by your honesty. He was bewitched by it.

Part of him was hoping that you would say that he was your fated lover though he acknowledged that the chances of that happening was as slim as Vil's stiletto heels. At the moment, he was completely, and utterly infatuated by your simple appearance. He had subconsciously projected his idea of "the one" onto you, hoping, by the love of god, that you were his soulmate. He knew it was a long shot from the start.

Nevertheless, when you said that there was no soulmate for you at all,  it hurt. For him. For you. But, if there was one thing Cater was good at, it was faking a smile and hoping for the best. And he did just that for you.

"Ah... don't worry, (y/n), they're bound to be here for sure!" he winked.

God, it was painful.

Some time passed after that and the way his heart throbbed at the thought of you not having a soulmate, and that he was not said soulmate, only festered. You came every day, on the hour. As punctual as ever. As vivacious as ever. You came as if the concept of soulmates did not exist. You came happily. You talked to him so easily as if he was not the one who witnessed your pitiful epiphany. Not that he questioned it, of course. He never wanted you to leave. He wanted to spend more time with you and defy fate just to be with you, but he kept his distance.

On the contrary, you concluded that he was holding back on something, but you did not want to push your luck. You didn't even have to ask. His body language displayed dejection, a slight discomfort. You often wondered why he was so chummy with you compared to the rest of the regulars in the shop. It was probably out of pity after your first encounter. But in truth, you had found your soulmate. Were you certain that he was your soulmate? Of course not. There is no certain way to confirm it. You've watched other girls come in and simply declare that someone was their soulmate after sipping that latte.

"How did the other person feel?" you wondered.

You were unsure as to how to go about it so you just left it at that. It was so silly. But what's even more absurd is that a drink could help one find their "one and only". You decided to go with your gut... even if you took a liking to a certain quirky and peppy barista. You wanted to get to know him more.

Part of you wanted to shout: "I'm your soulmate!", but that was ridiculous. That declaration was something the other person cannot decline. It was unfair for "your soulmate" if they did not feel the same way. If you had shouted: "I'm your soulmate!", it would be more of an obligation for the other person to love you. You did not want that for him. But... you did like him. A lot. You took it upon yourself to mold a relationship with him more organically.

You came to know that despite Cater's appearance, he was a coffee nerd at best. He liked to make small talk with you, talking about how stainless steel cups were the absolute bane of coffee and how ceramic cups were superior. Cater appreciated the fact that you were a woman of culture, who used ceramic cups for her to-go orders, who understood his coffee trivia or his random talks about events on Magicam.

While no significant bond formed between the two of you, one could say that you knew each other well enough to be acquaintances. There were rare occasions he shared Magicam posts with you, ones that he found worthy of wheezing whilst waiting for an order with a particularly long assembly process:

"Pfttt, (y/n)! Have you seen that video of a chicken running around in pants?"

"No? Wait! Is there such a thing?!"

"Here–"

"No!! It's probably really cursed like that picture of Professor Trein in stripper attire!" you yelped, covering your eyes.

"Okay fine. Have a picture of puppies instead."

You turned your attention back to his phone, only to regret it the moment you saw the post, "Cater!! I said I didn't want to see it! Now I can't get it out of my head..."

"It's funny though isn't it?"

You stifled a laugh, "I suppose. But it's very wrong at the same time. Animals and clothes don't go together, usually."

"Hmm... I think they weren't meant to be, but they still look good together. Like dogs look good in clothes. You can confirm that with Professor Crewel's Magicam page. It's like ahh- what is it called- oh! A happy accident! That's what that artist called it right?"

"But it looks so wrong on a chicken."

"Now are you saying a chicken can't pull off jeans?"

"Well, maybe?"

"I'm just messing, (y/n)," he chuckled, turning back to work on your beverage, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

You watched his back in silence. When he was done with your order, you thanked him and left the café.

That night, you searched up the video yourself, wondering why you found it funny the second time around. It shouldn't be funny, but it was.

It became apparent to you that Cater liked those animal videos. He showed you the next day as well.

"They're cute," you said.

In truth, they were. Were they his favorite kinds of posts? Perhaps. He did like adorable animals, but he leaned towards posts about music. Or at least, the side of the personality he showed to a majority of others did. Cater wanted to be himself around you. He tried. He showed posts about kittens and puppies to you to stir up a casual conversation. It worked most of the time. However, he also wanted others (and you, of course) to like him. Whenever his classmates came around, he would cease conversation with you or, if he was showing you a post and could not put his phone away fast enough, he would swipe to his more "manly" posts, the ones about skateboarding tournaments and such.

"Yea–"

"Mornin', Cater!"

"Pfft! No, they aren't! Oh but check this out instead! There's a new set of headphones and it sorta matches my skateboard, dontcha think?" he nervously shrugged, turning to his colleague, "Mornin', Ace!"

"Can I see the headphones too? They sound so cool!"

"What kind of upperclassman would I be if I didn't show my junior something like this," Cater grinned.

A struggle, it was.

After you left the café, Cater cursed himself. Did it come off as rude when he abruptly halted the conversation to greet a fellow barista? Did it come off as rude when he changed the subject of the conversation the moment Ace came onto the scene? He sure hopes not. He loved to make you laugh. Many have told him that the opinions of others don't matter, but old habits die hard. He's always been a people pleaser even if they weren't looking or listening to him rambling to you about animals.

Well, whatever, right? This was his poor attempt to flirt with a crush without being too direct. Cater didn't know why he even tried. You probably found your soulmate already. You might've met him after you left the shop outside on the sidewalk or something. Cater was content with seeing you every morning before you headed off to school. There was a time where he was mopey about it, but he needed extra cash so he chose that course so he could work the morning shift at this café. Now, he was glad he had late start classes if it meant having one on one time with you. He loved to talk to you; he also liked the days where you sat in the silence, listening to the clinks of cups and spoons.

Cater wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he wasn't the dullest either. He was perceptive as one would say. You came here around the same time every day– always wanting to try something new, but always leaning towards the drinks with subtle floral. He liked how your nose crinkled whenever the fragrance was too strong, meaning you would have a hard time swallowing the concoction. From there, he assured you that he would dilute the flowery flavors for your sake, thus opening your options. Your grateful beam was what he lived for these days. Your giggle was like jingles of bells, like how fairies talked. Seeing you on a daily basis was his dose of caffeine. It brightened his day. He hated how he waited for you and panicked when you were just a few minutes late. You were always on time. You always ordered to-go but stayed for a few minutes to dilly dally with him. Cater wasn't one for routine or rules. He never understood Riddle, his coworker, for always wanting things to be a certain way– all day and every day. But with you, he understood the redhead just a little bit more.

And because he more or less understood Riddle's need for things to be in order, today was an off day. You were late. Very late. Later than usual. Later than ever before. It was the weekend and you slept in, meaning you swung by around early noon when the sun was at its midpoint in the sky. It was sundown now. Moreover, it was raining. Cater assumed that you stayed home because of the rain, but it was not raining in the morning so what kept you?

He hated himself for relying on you as a source of happiness. How could he not though? You made his heart race a thousand miles per hour. You weren't that pretty. You were plain, but he liked that. He was confused as to why... but he liked the fact that you did not invest your time in over-the-top ensembles. He liked how your lashes were of a decent length and how they didn't look like butterflies were resting on your eyes. He liked how your makeup if you were wearing any on a particular day, enhanced your natural beauty rather than make you look like a clown.

Cater liked, no– loved, you more than he should've. You were not meant to be with him. He was not your soulmate and you were not his. It was like how people were meant to fall in love, but could not be together in the long run. You didn't have to say anything to him. He knew that he wasn't meant for you. You deserved someone real, someone unlike him.

The barista smiled sadly as he wiped the last speck of dust on the worktable. Yes, you deserved better than a café fling. You deserved better than a facade that was molded so that he could survive school.

He stared out the rose-tinted windows. The rain poured like an endless stream of tears. There was not a soul on the streets. Cater turned to deposit the rag into the to-wash bin. The door chimed, signaling a new customer. Oh boy... he was not in the mood for this...

"Hey, sorry, we're closed right now!" he said, feigning a peppy aura.

"Cater..."

"(y/n)? What are you doing here? And you're soaking too! Wait let me get you a towel. I'll be right back–"

His body reacted before his mind could process. Before he knew it, he was right by your side. He was close enough to touch you, but he only hovered, waiting for permission to lightly hold you by the shoulders.

"No, no, Cater... It's fine. I just wanted to talk to you," you whimpered, taking his wrists and bringing them to your shoulders.

"You're freezing! Sit down. I'll make you something to warm you up."

He ran back to the counter, whipping out his supplies and getting to work as fast as his hands could allow him to.

"No, listen, this will be quick, I promise. I don't intend to waste any more of your time than I already have."

You obeyed, making yourself comfortable at one of the barstools.

"You've never wasted my time, (y/n)," he said, staring intently into your eyes, sliding you a to-go cup.

That was... fast. You hoped Cater wasn't waiting for you all day, just to give you this beverage. The cup was filled to the rim with whipped cream and lavender sprigs. It looked like something out of wonderland, something the Mad Hatter would serve Alice if it had to be something other than tea. His viridian green eyes peered into your soul. It was hard to decline. Hesitantly, you took the cup, taking a sip out of it. Ah... warm. Thank goodness he wasn't waiting for you. Or was he? You weren't sure how brewing coffee worked, but you knew he always kept a shot (or was it a pot?) for you on the side. He seemed distraught. The last thing you wanted was for your beloved barista to wear such a raw and broken expression.

"Did you wait for me all day?"

"...Yes, but don't worry about it! It's not your job to come here every day. How's the mocha though? I made it in such a rush that I don't know if I eyeballed the ingredients properly."

"Mocha? That's new."

"Oh yeah!  That's a Lavender Rose White Mocha! I heard lavender is supposed to have calming effects. Thought it would help you with whatever you're dealing with."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I know, I know," he smirked, "Now, answer my question: what are you doing here so late? And in the rain with no umbrella or coat too!"

"I wanted to see you."

"You could have seen me in the morning," he groaned, flopping his upper body onto the counter.

"I needed some time to think about exactly what to say."

"Well, you're here now. Shoot."

You inhaled, "I'm your soulmate."

Cater shot up from his sprawled positioned, eyes glistening, brimmed with excitement– a flood of emotions. You could not tell if they were positive or not.

You continued before he could say anything, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything before. I just... wanted our relationship to develop organically."

"There's a 'but' somewhere in this, isn't there?" he smiled sadly.

You nodded, "Our relationship developed organically, alright, but I feel... like... you don't deserve someone as ordinary as I am. You like to skateboard and you like to raise the cutest mandrakes for the fun of it... and I... I'm just a girl who likes people with interesting stories, people who lead lives without a single pause. I like you, I do, but I feel like 'the one' for you is so much more than what I can offer. I feel that is so unfair for you. Just because I drank something and declared that you are mine does not mean that you don't have a say in this too. I didn't know how to tell you, knowing that you would probably want someone better. I tried. Every single day since I tried that damn latte... but I couldn't... I always chickened out..."

"(y/n)..."

"But, now that I told you, I can finally let you shine like the star you are. Thank you for everything, Cater."

"Wait, (y/n), I also–"

"I don't need your pity. It's okay," you sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss on his lips, "I just wanted to do that... at least once."

And with that, you bolted out of the coffeeshop in embarrassment, in regret, and woe. You ran as fast as you could. It was so stupid!! The sole concept of someone to be "made for you" was so superficial, unreliable, and unrealistic. You hated how you fell for the idea of a soulmate rather than the person himself, believing that Cater was the boy for you. But that's burdensome for someone who never felt the same way. He would have liked a "cooler" girl not a plain Jane, vanilla kind of girl. The rain masked your tears. It truly hurt you. Your heart was so detrimental.

"(y/n)!! Wait!"

You stopped to turn around to meet the owner of the voice. It was all too familiar. You had spent at least ten minutes with him every day for a couple of months now, after all.

"Cater?"

"S-Slow down... I'm in the light music club, not track and field," he wheezed.

You did not heed his words and spun your heel, preparing to run off to your dorm once more.

"HEY!!! LISTEN!!!" he yelled as he tackled you with a bear hug from behind.

"No!"

You squirmed, but to no avail.

"Cater...What is there to listen to? I'm just in love with the idea of you being my soulmate, not you... I doubt that you would ever fall for such a simple girl like me without that latte. You're so cool and trendy. I could never be your lover! T-That's just not fair to you!" you sobbed, the tension in your muscles relaxed in his grip.

"Who said anything about being fair?! You just jumped to conclusions without asking about my feelings!"

"I still don't think we belong together. We're on completely different levels."

"CHICKENS IN PANTS!" he screeched as his grip on you tightened.

"What??"

"You heard me. Chickens in pants... They're not meant to be together, but they exist anyhow and they look really good together in my opinion. So if you feel that way about not being "meant for me" then think of use like that! But for your information: I actually really like simple girls! I really, really like them a lot! I like you too, idiot! I like you a lot! You're not interested in how 'cool' I am and I couldn't care less about anything flashy. I need a break from that lifestyle. You're just that for me. Please accept my feelings."

He nuzzled the back of your neck. You felt the trail of hot tears running down his cheeks.

"Pfttt. Okay. I accept. On one condition though: I'm the chicken. I don't want to be the pants," you laughed.

"Deal. Let’s head back to the café. The rain isn’t going to clear any time soon. We might catch colds.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” you hummed as you intertwined your fingers with his.

“You know, this could have been way easier if you just told me that you were my soulmate from the get-go,” Cater exasperated.

“I don’t like the idea of soulmates. I think you’ve heard me say it a thousand times before. I don’t think ‘the one’ exists at all. I feel that nobody should be projecting their fantasies onto their lover and expect said person to fulfill that ideal. I was a hypocrite though because I ended up assuming your type and who you would like. I apologize for that.”

“Ahhh so formal! So deep! I never thought about it that way. And..  I’m sorry for giving you mixed signals too.”

“They weren’t that mixed. I just felt like you wanted a girlfriend who had the same aesthetic you had.”

“Those signals were definitely mixed. I… grew up in a place, a really well off place where even the streets shimmered. It was so sparkly. I also had two sisters so I ended up taking a liking to cute things and such. Turns out that in middle school and beyond don’t like pretty boys from sparkly places who like cute things. I’ve been hiding behind something myself. I’m actually not that cool, you know, especially for hiding behind this cheerful persona.”

“I guess we’re both in the wrong now.”

“But since, we’re chickens in pants, we can do anything together!”

“Oh my god, Cater, no!”

“Yes!”

“I already have my work cut out for me already… Oh! We’re here, let’s dry up. Wait? Did you really leave the shop unattended just to chase after me?”

“I forgot about that, oops!” he shrugged.

“Well, your managers aren’t here so it should be alright.”

“Wait! Before we go in, I want to take a picture.”

“Cater, we’re soaking wet and it’s still raining.”

“Just for a second, okay?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Say ‘soulmates’!”

“Soulmates…” you rolled your eyes.

“Cute. Caption: I finally found her. Oh and for the tags– hashtag: soulmates, hashtag: chickens-in-pants, hashtag: rainy-day-kisses andddd posted!”

“Wait. Chickens in pants?”

“That’s our new shtick now!” he winked, kissing your cheek and opening the café’s door.

It was then and there you finally let all of your emotions out in the form of a hyena’s laugh.

It was then and there you finally let all of your emotions out in the form of a hyena’s laugh. The real Cater was quite dorky. You were hoping to get to know him more and in turn, he did the same for you.

Because for you, there are no such things as soulmates or “the one”, it was just a person who would walk alongside you. And that person, as fate would have it, was Cater and he was the only one for you.

[mystxmomo]

Title: Empathy (Reprise)

Fandom: Identity V

Pairings: Luca Balsa | Prisoner/Victor Grantz | Postman/Andrew Kreiss | Grave Keeper/Edgar Valden | Painter, Antonio | Violinist/Andrew Kreiss | Grave Keeper

Chapters: 1/2/3/6

Description:

They fall into a relationship quietly, and easily.

Link: Ao3

======

They fall into a relationship quietly, and easily.

//

At some point, Luca got his hands on a key to his room.

 He almost always knocks before entering despite this, because he’s polite like that, but also always somehow finds Luca curled up in the furthest corner of his bed after particularly bad matches. He still has a bloodstain hidden on the mattress, from when Luca had allowed himself to bleed out instead of going to Emily.

(“Because there’s no point,” Luca had whispered, hands shaking against his, “It will feel better, waking up tomorrow healed. There’s no point to nursing these wounds.”)

Luca’s laundry has sort of begun to join Victors in the corner because otherwise it builds forgotten in his room. He forgets his notes and his tools on Victor's desk, which Victor generally takes the time to organize and sort through. Luca’s objects earn their place in his room. Luca earns a place in his room.

It took a lot to get Luca comfortable sleeping with him.

Physically. In the same bed

"Wake up sloppy," Luca whispers like its something filthy to admit, "Sometimes I uh. Forget where I am. For a bit. Gotta remind myself of it. You know? I wouldn't want to subject ya to that. Could hurt you, n’ that would be no good.”

(Even after the two of them start sleeping together, Victor rarely finds him in bed with him in the morning. It was hard not to feel hurt by that, the first few times.

“I mean,” Luca had said, “I’ll always wait for you to fall asleep,” His voice is weak. He feels bad about it.

Victor doesn’t push it.)

They don’t put a label on it immediately, but Victor can see it for what it is. Because he’s not dull. Because the prospect terrifies him. He’s never been close enough to someone like this. He’s slept with men before (far crueler than Luca, far more unfair to himself) but a relationship is something else entirely.

The turning point however, is inevitable. 

//

 “Victor,” Luca asks, one morning, when Victor has brought the both of them breakfast. Because it’s one of those kinds of mornings, where Victor has convinced Tracy to take Luca’s place in a match, and Luca has spent most of it looking at a wall instead of him, and has been pushing his food around on his plate long enough the Victor has not only finished his own but cleaned his dish, “Are we dating?”

There’s no shame in his asking. He sounds.. Genuinely uncertain. Whispers it, in case he’s wrong. Like he fears the repercussion of such a question.

He is wrong, technically speaking.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know. Ah. Sincerely am unsure,” Luca adds, “It feels like something I’d write down. But I can’t find anything about it. I sorted through my notebooks this mornin’ tryin’a find something about it. Can’t even find if this is a new sort of feeling. But- We’re sharing a room, right? N’I trust you. I don’t know. It sort of feels like-” Luca frowns, “You know.”

“...We aren’t dating, no. Not technically,” Victor says, “It’s never come up,”

“Ah,” He sounds disappointed, “Good to know. Sorry to bring it up.”

“...” Victor sits up, “I’ll bring it up later. We'll talk about it. Promise. Rest for now.”

Luca blinks up at him. Nods. 

(“I try not t’write my feelings down too much,” Luca admits to him, when he’s feeling a bit better, after they’ve talked it over, “I don’t want to force myself to feel something I’m not, I guess.”

Victor thinks he might understand that. But Luca continues, reaches over to grab his hand, adds, “I’ll write this one down, yeah? I don’t want to forget it.”)

 //

 “How do you decide everyone's names,” Luca asks, “You know, in sign language.”

They’ve sitting in the den late into the night when he asks, legs tangled together. Victor isn’t the best teacher, and Luca certainly isn’t the best student. But they’ve a library of books, all the time in the world, nothing better to do with that time. Luca’s determination and thirst for knowledge is nothing to be laughed at, and Victor’s patience and appreciation is unmatched.

Victor shrugs, “I’ve been calling everyone by their title, mostly,” Follows his words with his signs, careful and slow like.

Luca frowns. Tilts his head

“...You don’t like your title as prisoner,” Victor recalls, one of the first things he’d noted about the man.

“‘Prisoner’,” Luca corrects, with the finger air quotes and all.

“I can’t do air quotes and sign,” He tells Luca, bemused.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense..” Luca laughs. It seems unintentional. 

“I can think of a new one for you?” He offers, “Something a little kinder than Prisoner,”

Luca’s hands stall as he thinks of a reply, “I would like that.”

(“.. How does inventor sound?” Luca’s hands hesitate over the word inventor, when he realizes he doesn’t know it.

“Inventor,” Victor shows him the sign, “Too formal,” Victor says, smile on his lips, “If I’m giving you a new name, I’m going to put thought into it.”

Luca sighs, long and dramatic. Clicks his tongue, “No one’s taken me up on that one. One day someone’s gotta.”

“Of course.”)

 //

He and Luca aren’t exactly subtle, per-say. 

But it’s easy enough for their relationship to go under the radar. Luca is a naturally touchy person. Throws his arm around Norton’s shoulder after matches, fumbles against Naib’s hands when they share cigarettes. Touches the small of Eli’s back to get his attention, holds Tracy’s hands in his own to help warm them, grabs Helena’s arm and pulls her when they need to run. He’s touchy. Sociable in a way Victor is not. Luca has a tendency to do that to people. Most don’t notice that they sit closer, whisper softer. They don’t notice the way Luca takes his hits and waits by the gate, and they don’t question the way they collapse to together in a pile when neither feel like going to their rooms.

Because Luca is just like that. And so Victor is like that.

(He discovers, later, that Andrew had. A steady gaze he’d never noticed, from corners of the room he’d never paid attention to. For as observant as Victor is, Andrew had always gone under his radar.

Until he hadn’t, that is.)

 //

 “Eventually” ends up being roughly a month later.

Victor wakes up to a knock on his door, the sound of paper being slid beneath the crack. He almost thinks he imagines it. But Wick is up and pacing at the door, whining and scratching at it, (A friend, then) and there is a note, tucked sloppily into an envelope waiting for him.

A letter.. For him?

He scrambles from his bed to grab it, eyes wide. Of course, he gets a variety of letters these days. Letters to matches, well wishes when he’s been particularly hurt in matches. But nothing delivered as such. He decides that, whatever it is has to be something different. Something special.

He hesitates before he opens it, entirely. There’s no wax seal on it. The fold of the envelope has simply been tucked into itself. No writing on the back. The edge of the note pokes out of the envelope, telling him whoever packed it in did so in a rush.

He opens it. Closes his eyes as not to see the writing. Peers open at them.

Victor.

A while ago, you asked why I went to prison. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around why it had to be written. I had the note pinned up to my work station and everything. 

The thing is, I didn’t actually remember. Not when you asked. I knew I’d gone to prison, of course. It’s in the title and everything. I remembered being in prison. I forgot a long time ago, why I was there, and for how long. Wretched place like that, prison is. 

I woke up tonight and I remembered.

I killed my mentor. I don’t know why I did it. I remember caring about him. Being close to him? I don’t understand why I did it. I think we got into an argument? I don’t understand why he made me do something so drastic to end it. I can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t know if I want to understand.

I don’t know why you wanted this. I’m sorry if it’s not enough. Please keep it safe. I don’t want to remember writing it.

 Luca B.

 …

...

…

Luca’s handwriting, Victor notes, is sloppy and frantic. Some of the ink is smudged, the sort of smudge that comes with a hand streaking across the page.

 The chicken scratch of a panicked man. 

(Luca wakes up badly, sometimes, he muses. Doesn’t want to hurt Victor, he muses again.)

Victor paces. Re-reads the letter. Stares at the wall to Luca’s room like doing so will manifest it away, despite the fact that he knows very well he probably isn’t in there.

“Prisoner,” He signs to Wick, frown on his face. Wick turns about in her spot, waiting for the letter to come. But it never does. And when he signs it again, she gives a confused whine, a pace at his feet. A third time is all it takes for her to give up, bolt away on an order she doesn’t fully understand.

And then Victor is alone. Letter in his hand.

… Murder, huh?

He traces along the side of the page, careful not to damage it. He rereads over it, time and time again.

Victor tucks the note into the pages of his own diary and holds it close to his heart. He smiles, and it’s empty.

Something special indeed.

(He keeps his promise. Never brings it up again. But it’s tucked away like a memento, secure. A secret he’s entrusted with, to keep close to his heart.)

 //

 Luca’s body is more scar than it is skin, webs of angry red strung out across his arms and chest and creeping up his neck.

Victor admires them in fascination the first time he sees them, eyes wide, fingers dancing against skin. They’re something uncomfortable to Luca. He knows this because Luca takes the time to cover them in a series of bandaging each morning, in a way that cannot possibly be good for him. 

The first time he sees them is not the first time he sleeps with Luca. Not even the second. The first time he sees them is well into their relationship, in a room where the lighting is so low that he might as well not see them at all. It had been on a day where Luca wasn’t doing bad, exactly, but wasn’t doing good either. Had that kind of mindset to him.

“Lichtenberg figure,” Luca tells him, tilting his head to avoid the way Victor's fingers follow one up to his neck, “It’s what happens when electricity enters- Well, anything. But in this case, skin.”

“Looks like it hurts,” Victor notes, bleakly, as his hands make their way back down Luca’s arms. They stop at the scars on his hand, the ones that aren’t so pretty and aren’t so kind. He lingers over the dips in his palms, lets Luca’s hand rest in his own.

“Lucky to have my arms still, let alone use of my hands. S’ what they told me,” Luca admits, and as if to prove his point, reaches out to rest his hands on Victors waist. A gentle, shaking touch, “I remember that clear as day. Thinkin’ I would never be able to feel my hands again. Never be able to work with ‘em. I think, I got lucky. Even if I hurt my head, I can still use my hands real well. Got me through prison, bein’ able to work like that.”

Victors got a few scars of his own. A few knife wounds, a bullet scar on his shoulder from when he’d gotten in the crossfire of a hit and run, a few cigarette burns from people that had a point to prove.

Luca evidently recognizes them for what they are, “Shit Victor,” He says, fingers brushing over them with care, “What happened to you?”

The last person Victor slept with threatened to burn him and his dog alive. Luca doesn’t need to know this yet. He simply shakes his head, rests his forehead on Luca’s shoulder.

“Fair enough,” Luca decides, “I won’t push.”

(Luca smells of sweat and oil, of a mess buried so deep into his skin he’ll never be cleaned of it. He feels comfortable.)

 //

 Luca has a complicated relationship with electricity.

For something that’s defiled him as badly as it has, it does just as much to protect him these days. Victor can’t see it, but he can feel the field of static that forms around Luca while he works. Luca doesn’t pull back when the cipher acts up, doesn’t shy away from the jolts and buzzes of the machine. He can shock hunters, something that builds up under his skin and sticks to him. 

Victor feels it sometimes. When they’re decoding together, and their hands touch. When Luca ushers him close to sooth his wounds. After matches, when he’d had no use for his stuns, pent up and adrenaline filled. The static will snap against his skin, burn into his flesh, and the only thing he can wonder is if this is the ghost that haunts Luca’s pains.

Supposedly, Luca doesn’t feel it much.

“It’s been like that since. Ah. You know. The accident. Even in prison, they couldn’t- Well. They tried to. Ah,” He huffs, reaches up to tap his head a few times, can’t manage to get the words out properly. Victor doesn’t want him to elaborate, doesn’t ask him to, “Electricity didn’t do much worse to my head then it already was. I ain’t think they realized it though.”

He even speaks highly of it.

“Electricity is the future, Victor!” He tells him, pacing with a child-like excitement about the room, “Pure energy. One day, they might even have auto-mobiles runnin’ on it. Hell- Entire cities structured to suit it! Entire webs, connectin’ to one another. Like- Like veins in a skin! It’s own kinda life! Can you believe that? A truly incredible thing, I tell you.”

“It sounds terrifying,” Victor admits.

“Absolutely,” But he says it with a certain type of awe to him, “I would have liked to see somethin’ like that one day. I want to see the world change with it. I mean- ”

They hadn’t accepted yet, that they’d never get out of here. They’d only been here a year, at that point. 

“It would be something fantastic.”

(“It’s a pretty sign,” Victor tells him, tapping his knuckles, “Electricity. It suits you, I’d say.”

Luca nods. Mimic’s the sign back at him, “Know what? You’re right.”)

//

Luca cries after they have sex.

Worries Victor to bits, the first time it happens. He does his best to hide it, but the room is quiet, and he’s right there, and he shakes with the tears.

“It’s nothing you did,” Luca explains later, “I can’t control it. S’ a lot at once, and I..” he tilts his head, “Like the laughter,” There had, in fact, been a lot of laughter during, “It’s all unintentional. Uncontrollable. I’m sorry.”

Luca feels shame about it. He sees it in the way Luca avoids his gaze, hides his face.

“As long as you’re not hurt,” Victor decides. As long as he didn’t hurt Luca.

Even so, Victor thinks it best that they don’t immediately sleep. Sometimes they lay there, simply enjoying the others touch. Other times, they talk. Conversation that would normally be harder to approach, easy and warm in an afterglow.

"Have you ever been with a man?" Victor asks him one night, when they’re laying together, because he's curious. They’ve laced their fingers, and Luca is hiding his face in his neck, and it’s comfortable despite the chill of the room, “You know. Before me.” 

"I don’t ‘unno. Probably," he decides on. And then, "Actually, yeah. Definitely have."

He doesn't elaborate. Victor doesn’t ask him to. Not tonight.

“.. Have you?” 

Victor.. Nods.

“You??” Luca grins, and Victor can’t wrap his head around why he’s so surprised by this, “Victor Grantz??”

“I’ve only ever been with men,” Victor adds on, as an afterthought. 

“You seemed more like…” Luca thinks about what he wants to say, “Gettin’ married to your pretty childhood friend at twenty or somethin’. Didn’t expect you to be the type.”

Victor.. slowly. Can’t find it in himself to say it, so instead he signs it, “It’s not something I like to think about though,” He considers leaving it at that, but at last moment adds, “Was a very bad time in my life.”

“Ah,” He knows that Luca, of all people, would understand that much, “... Did you love him? I don’t know if I’ve loved any of the men I slept with. It just kinda happened.”

“...” He looks over at Wick, sleeping at the foot of his bed, “I loved something about him. Nothing good though.”

Luca nods again.

It’s Victor's turn to ask a question. It’s generally how these things go. Luca’s fingers brush against his arm and trace something victor barely knows to be numbers. He wonders what they mean.

"What's the worst thing you've done," Victor asks, instead of signing it, props his chin up to watch for Luca’s reaction to this one. He seems amused.

".. Besides the whole. Murder?"

Victor returns his amusement, "Besides murder." He signs it.

"..." Luca tilts his head back as he thinks, a long breath leaving him. He sounds sort of like air leaving a balloon, "Shit Victor, I 'unno. I can barely remember the thing I went to jail for,” But he hardly seems upset over the question, which is good.

There’s silence between them. Victor all but collapses to lay closer to him. To rest his forehead against Luca’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his waist.

"Please,” He whispers it with desperation, “Entrust me with something?”

"..." Luca shifts to adjust for his weight, "I guess I've been the cause of a lot of infidelity?"

Victor.. laughs

“What,” Luca asks, then again, with a smile beginning onto his face, “What?”

"I didn't take you as the type."

Luca shrugs, "Lot’a of married men in prison. Not a lot of wives. You can see where that would come up.”

Victor huffs laughter. 

“...Why me?” Luca asks, when enough time has passed that he’s sure that they won’t continue off the last point, “Why this.”

The answer is an easy one. He doesn’t know if Luca will accept it easily. 

“I find our relationship to be.. Quite boring,” Victor admits to him, with a tilt of his head and a smile.

“Huh?” Luca’s eyes widen, “That’s why we’re dating?”

Victor nods his head, “And that’s a good thing, Luca.”

Luca grimances. Victor only just realizes, looking at his expression, how horribly he’s presented this to him. Luca chews on his lip, suddenly seeming far too concerned about the state of their relationship, “You’re going to have to walk me through this one Victor.”

Victor tilts his head up to think. He can explain it, he thinks. Opens his mouth to, only to discover that the familiar weight of uncertainty has settled on his tongue. He pauses. Looks around to his nightstand, where his fancier papers and pens rest.

He signs, “Can I write it down instead?” 

Luca stares at him. Then, slowly nods, “Yeah. Yeah- I mean. Shit, sure Victor.”

Victor pulls himself up. Stretches. He feels a bit bad, leaving Luca to wait. But he feels no pressure to rush, and when he holds the page out for Luca to take it’s with a small amount of relief.

“We do not fight often. When we do, you apologize and admit your wrong doings. You make sure you’re not hurting me. You trust me unconditionally,” That one might as well be damn near euphoric, “I do not have to prove my trust in you. That’s rather boring. Is it not exciting, to need to prove your worth? Is it not fulfilling? You’re patient, well mannered, and gentle. When I come back from matches, you will be here to welcome me and assure my safety. You’ve never been a threat to me, Luca. That’s quite boring.

I hope you don’t misunderstand. I do not find you personally to be boring. You’re wonderful, Luca. You’re more brilliant than I can begin to express. I often think to myself that your creativity is unmatched, and find myself frequently startled at your perceptiveness. You’re far smarter than you give yourself credit for, and far more forgiving than you realize. For all your flaws, you’re a man of many virtues.

And for that, our relationship is boring, and easy. I do not know if I have the words to express the comfort and gratitude I find in that. A boring relationship is a good one, Luca. You must forgive me when I say this, but I am somewhat envious of you. That you do not have to discover that through experience. I would never want you to remember experiencing that, even if you had.”

Victor gets to watch Luca read his. He watches the way his face falls from concern, to confusion, to uncertainty. He gets to watch the way his eyes soften, shoulders untense, lip twitches. There’s an implication in the letter, of an experience far darker than he’s told Luca of. He wonders if Luca realizes Victor hasn’t told him. He wonders if he thinks he’s just forgotten. 

“Victor,” Luca still has yet to smile. He looks hurt, and Victor think’s it may be for his sake, “What?”

Victor’s own smile widens. It’s the only answer Luca gets.

“...” Luca sighs. Folds the letter up, and rests it on first page of his journal, “Come here.”

He comes back to him, “You still don’t understand,” 

“I don’t,” He admits, “Not entirely. But I think- I’m missing part of the story, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” Victor tells him, “I don’t know if I can tell you it just yet.”

“That’s okay,” Luca assures, and holds him close, “I won’t ask you to.”

//

 It continues like this.

Edgar and Luca calm down enough that they’re no longer pushing handfuls of snow into eachothers face. They’ve taken to talking in tones too hush for Victor to be able to hear from a distance away, but have also both been exchanging quick glances in their groups direction. Victor watches it with a blank gaze, counts as he waits for the inevitable.

Antonio and Andrew have taken to leaning up against the cipher machine, Andrew poking hesitantly at the keys. He’s not really decoding, but explaining;

“I’d never seen anything like this, before coming to the manor. Never had the money for it. Oh- I’m sure I’ve told you this before, though..”

Antonio shakes his head, “You have not,” He assures, and Victor thinks that may be a lie.

“I’m sure you could have guessed,” he says, tone suddenly darkening. It does not seem to bother Antonio in the slightest.

“You know I enjoy hearing what you’ve to say, my lovely grave-keep,” He says, “No need with the attitude. It is already chilly enough out here,” Antonio laughs to himself. Antonio flusters, sighs, reaches over to grab his sleeve.

“... Sorry.”

Before he can begin speaking again, a snowball comes flying in Andrew’s direction. It smacks mercilessly into the back of his head. Andrew blinks. Frowns. Reaches up to check and see if he did, indeed, actually get hit.

“Valden,” Andrew hisses, turning almost immediately on his heel. Edgar gives a laugh as Luca leaves him, hand raised as if to confirm that he was very much the one to restart this war. Andrew is already beginning to storm over, brushing the snow off his hair. 

“Oh. How delightful. A change in tempo,” Antonio adds, ever the peanut gallery, and begins to follow after him. Realizing his mistake just a second too late, Edgar begins to make a b-line for the closest pallet he can find.

"Come on now," Andrew says, blankly, "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You have my attention Valden."

“No, no, no. Shit,” Edgar hisses, “Fuck. Know what? I change my mind. Go away! I hate you, actually! Get fucked!”

Luca comes over to collapse into the snow next to him. He scares away the crows that Victor had been petting, that Wick had done such a good job at not growling at.

Ah, well.

“You’re done?” He signs. On top of that, he’s circled his earlier statement about the two of them acting like children, and drawn a long line up to show that he wants Luca to see it. It probably would have been easier just to rewrite the word. He has a point to prove.

“Yeah, well. I am. I’m actually kind of sore,” Luca admits, “It sucks to be Luca Balsa. Being Luca Balsa sucks. I don’t ever recommend it.”

Victor offers him a sympathetic pat on the back. Luca responds, in turn, by resting his head on his shoulder.

Luca is cold. Of course, this should maybe come as no surprise, considering he’d just been laying in the snow. But Victor still adjusts to offer him a little more warmth. Luca’s closet had never offered much in the way of thick clothing. He’s been meaning to write to the baron about that.

“... No one is decoding,” Victor whispers against his ear, earning a series of shaky giggles from the other.

“So? It’s not like there’s any rush, you know,” Luca tells him, all smiles and ease. But it’s different from the smile he was wearing moments ago, less show and laughter and more sincere, “It’s a nice change of pace. Whatever Antonio was sayin’ earlier. S’the holidays, who wants to be decoding, blugh,” He rolls his eyes, exaggerated, “Wish we could be celebrating it somewhere warmer though.”

“We’d be able to do it inside, if someone were to decode,” He presses.

“Oh, y'know. Technicalities.”

They sit like that, huddled together against the dilapidated stone wall. Edgar manages to get Antonio with a pallet once, but is rewarded with a shriek of the violin and Andrews far less forgiving shovel swings. 

“Can I tell you something, Victor?” Luca asks, far too polite for their relationship, “Something a little personal.”

Victor.. Pauses. Then nods, “Always.”

Luca considers his thoughts, as he tends to do. He watches over the way Edgar is being manhandled between Antonio and Andrew, the way he kicks and laughs and stumbles over himself in an attempt to get away.

Luca’s gaze falls to the ground.

“Everyday, I think I forget what the outside world is like just a little bit more,” Luca says, dream-like, “You’d think that's.. That’s a bad thing, right? Cause the things that are sticking about the outside world are the worst parts about it. Like ..Prison. N’. You know,” Luca side eye’s him, offers a few taps to his head, “Mostly just prison. Never go to prison, Victor.”

He signs, “I’ve been told it’s bad.”

“Whoever told you that was a genius.”

Victor smiles.

“What was I.. Ah,” Luca stares off into space, “Right. You’d think that's a bad thing. But I think.. I don’t mind it. Because one day, maybe the only thing I’ll be able to remember is being here,” Luca closes his eyes, “My only connection to the outside world is a book of half truths and a dishonest, vulgar man. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Victor shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t think it is. 

Luca isn’t paying attention.

Luca hides his face in his legs, “I’ve been here so long that I can barely remember why I came here to begin with. It’s written up in my room, you know. Somewhere. I think. But if ‘ya asked me right now why I came here? I could only guess.”

Victor.. Knows why Luca came here. He remembers Luca telling him about it with such an excitement to his eye, passion behind his voice, hushed and secret like. And he wants to remind him of it. 

He knows better than to try.

“I don’t think we’re ever getting out of here,” Luca admits, “We’ve been here for years now. I don’t think it’s happening. So I guess, that’s a good thing. That I don’t remember the rest of the world. Who knows what I’m missin’”

Victor's gaze falls to Edgar again, just as he gets hit a second time. A gong rings throughout the field as though it was a normal game, and Antonio leans down to pluck the squirming man up in his arms.

“On the other hand. One day, we might get out of here,” Luca points out, voice a whisper, “Yeah?”

Victor… nods. It’s unlikely, he thinks. They’ve evidently all come to accept that. But it could happen. Anything was possible.

“What if the same thing happens when we get out,” He asks, “What if I loose all of this, and the only thing I can remember is. Getting stabbed a whole lot.”

Victors eyebrows furrow together. He goes to lift his hands. Pauses when Luca’s hand comes to rest on his.

“What if there’s stuff I don’t remember, stuff I didn’t tell Edgar. That I’ll just never be able to know ‘nymore. Does it matter? Should it matter?”

Edgar, for as good as he is at squirming away, is not good enough to fall from the others arms in the two seconds it takes him to find a chair. Edgar attempts to kick Andrew from his spot, but they both seem to recognize it as a fruitless battle.

(“Kriess! Get me out of here now!!”)

Andrew reaches shovel up some snow and dump it atop of Edgar’s head. He can barely make out the way Edgar grimaces as a result, shaking it off of himself just in time to receive another. 

If he squints, he can make out Andrews vicious little grin as well.

Antonio plays an old holiday song he thinks he might just be able to place a name to if he tried.

“I want as many days like this seared into my memory as I can get,” Luca says, taps his head, “I never want to forget what this feels like.”

“I wouldn’t let you forget,” Victor assures him, “None of us would.”

“Well. Edgar might,” Luca corrects, “You know. If history is anything to go by.”

“Edgar might,” Victor agrees, bemused.

Andrew, just as the rocket chair begins to hiss, pulls Edgar from it. Edgar stumbles, goes to hit Andrew with trembling arms. He thinks Antonio begins to play a little bit louder, a bit faster.

Victor smiles.

“Thoughtful as that is, one of us really should decode,” He points out.

“Nah. I want to see how long this goes on for."

===

 Luca

I've found that often, I throw myself into more than I can handle for the sake of my own security and pleasure. Secrets have always been something hedonistic for me. Your secrets are an addiction, and your story is a tragedy of literary proportions. 

I wish there was more I could do, beyond keeping yours untold. I often find myself thinking your secrets might end up becoming too much for me. How is one supposed to keep secrets from their rightful owner? Should I tell you of your own dreams? Or should they be forgotten as the rest of your life has been. Would you be happier, in ignorance. Is it proper, for me to allow a story so tragic to disappear with us? 

Isn’t that something curious? Isn’t it exciting? Maybe I’ll ask. I suppose only time will tell. 

I can only hope that our future brings you happiness. 

 Victor. 

 ["Prisoner" has received letter entitled Tranquility.]

[tomspancakes]

This Way: Part 2

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress! reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: Yours and Tom’s past come in bringing a bit of tension.

Part 1

A/N: AHH I’m so glad people liked part 1! I don’t have a set schedule for posting bc I still have school atm, but I’m gonna try to stay consistent, cause writing this is so fun :))) If you have any suggestions of improvement for my writing or if you’re enjoying this please lmk! If you want to be added to the tag list don’t hesitate to ask! Enjoy Part 2 <3

“Harry, oh my god that was so awkward. I hated that, it will replay in my head for the next week.” You groaned flopping on his bed. “I am a bad bitch I’m fine, I’m fine” you reminded yourself.

He laughed at you and sat next to you, “You are a bad bitch. And yes that was painfully awkward, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks for pulling me away though. Not gonna lie, I felt like Allana was plotting something in her head when she saw me. Did you get any vibe that she didn’t seem happy?” You asked, nervous.

“Eh wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t happy, she bosses Tom around. She tried to use me as her photographer once, but I was busy and couldn’t, but she somehow made Tom clear my schedule so that I could take pictures of her. I do not trust her in all honesty, so her plotting something wouldn’t be new..” You gasped at the story. 

“Dang I will not get in her way then…” Harry laughed and asked, “What do you feel like eating tonight, love?” 

“Uhmmm, oh I haven’t had nandos since the last time I was here.” You said and he nodded.

-

After the Nandos was dropped off at the house you all gathered around the table. 

“I think I can make food like Nandos.” Harrison said and everyone started laughing, “Hey I seriously think I can. Just watch.” 

“I think you can too, Harrison, I’ll be your sous chef if you want.” He smiled at your encouragement and stuck his tongue out at everyone else and Allana rolled her eyes. Oof. “Tommy, do you have spinach? I have a photoshoot tomorrow because one of the models cancelled. I can’t eat the side dishes. I’ll make myself a salad or something.” Allana said.

Harry scoffed and joked, “We don’t have rabbit food here, love.” Tuwaine and Harrison laughed, but you felt bad they were ganging up on her.

“Hey don’t make fun of her. It’s harder for us girls to stay fit whereas you boys can eat like shit and still be fit.” You said to the boys and Allana looked at you a bit surprised and pleased, “Allana, I think I saw some lettuce in the fridge. I can go grab it for you and a bowl. Gotta start getting used to the things around here anyway.” You smiled at her. 

Her expression went back to being unimpressed, “Uhm no thanks. I’ll just go eat at home, I have to leave in a bit anyway.”  She said and pushed the utensils away. 

“Darling, you need to eat a little something, you haven’t eaten one thing since you’ve gotten here.” Tom said. Your heart clenched a bit when he called her darling. 

“Tommy, god, I said I’d eat later. Don’t you ever listen?” She said everyone stared in silence until Harrison broke it, “Someone’s a little hangry…” 

“Harrison shut up!” Tom said snapping his head toward Haz.

Allana was turning red, “That’s it! I’m tired of your friends treating me like this. I’m leaving, Tommy, will you come with me?” Tom got up and glared at Harrison as he helped Allana out. 

“As if she doesn’t treat us badly.” Tuwaine said, rolling his eyes, Harry and Harrison nodding in response.

“Ok, but I still felt bad for her. That was a little uncalled for guys.” You said continuing to eat. 

“Y/n, she literally shot you down when you were trying to be helpful.” Harrison stated.

“Ok true, but I didn’t mind, she seemed to mind when you all ganged up on her.” The boys nodded.

“Not even 3 hours here and you’re already being our mother.” Harry said laughing.

“Oh shut up, you boys love me. I’m just using the bad bitch energy Harry gave me earlier.” You all laughed.

- 

After dinner you and the boys watched funny videos on Harry’s laptop and then headed your separate ways to go to sleep. You did your night routine and pulled on pj shorts and tank top since the boys put the heater on. 

You stirred in bed trying to sleep, but the jet lag got the best of you and you decided to put your clothes in the drawers and closet. Before starting to clean you decided to grab a snack and water.

While waiting for the popcorn to finish popping in the microwave you heard the front door unlock and a tired looking Tom walked in. 

“Tom? Oh my god why’re you getting home now it’s 2 am, you should’ve stayed with Allana. It’s so late!” 

“Oh, y/n? And we were talking then she kicked me out, something about being alone in bed is better for her aura the night before a photoshoot. Why’re you up?” Tom stammered and you scoffed at the story.

“Jet lag. I decided to organize my room, but also wanted a snack.” He nodded sitting in front of you at the counter, “Why don’t you go to sleep now you look like shit.” You joked. He put his hand over his heart pretending to be hurt.

“Tsss ouch, y/n, but I kinda wanted to talk to you. You know, catch up.” He said looking at you with his head resting on his hand now. Your heart sped up and sighed trying to stay calm.

“Alright, what do you wanna know?” You pulled the popcorn out of the microwave and set it between you and Tom. He started eating with you.

“How’re you and Mr. Gavin Leatherwood?” His question surprised you because one; that was a very straightforward question and two; you never confirmed anything/ went public with Gavin except for paps photos of you two holding hands and only Zendaya, your family, and Harry knew and swore not to tell Tom. 

“Uhm we mutually broke up two weeks ago...” You said looking up at Tom fiddling with your fingers. Tom’s eyes widened a bit and he tried to hide his joy, 

“Oh I’m sorry about that y/n.” he said genuinely, “I always thought there was something off about him.” You rolled your eyes getting annoyed thinking back to the past,

“Tom nothing was wrong with him. Like I said it was a mutual break up. He’s a sweet guy, you just never gave him a chance.” You rolled your eyes. He put his arms up in defense,

“Sorry, love, chill. I was trying to make you feel better by implying you deserved better.” You scoffed knowing he was only being half truthful. 

“Mhm sure, we both know that you just hated him.” Tom looked at the bowl of popcorn in defeat. 

“Thanks for sticking up for Allana by the way. I know she doesn’t seem like the nicest person at first, but when you get to know her she’s a sweetheart.”

“Oh ya I bet.” You joked.

“What? ‘Not gonna give her a chance’, love?” He mocked your American accent  and put air quotes in when he said that. You gave him a displeased look,

“Really, Tom? Really? Are seriously going to say that to me when you never stood up for Gavin and was actually the meanest to him?” 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, “it was a joke, love. I see you still get butt hurt easily.” He said putting his head in his hands. That was it,

“Ok good catching up with you Tom. Good night, asshole.” You took the popcorn and water to your room. 

Tom sat there with his eyes never leaving your beautiful figure. He groaned, beating himself up mentally for fucking things up and for checking you out.

-

You woke up around 7 a.m. groaning because jet lag got to you really bad. You changed into leggings and a crop top ready to go on a light jog knowing you wouldn’t go back to sleep. 

When you walked down you saw that Tom fell asleep on the couch. Your heart melted at the sight, but you tried to ignore how cute and cuddly he looked. You were about to walk out, but gave in and decided to put a blanket over Tom. 

“Oh mornin’ y/n, you’re up early,” You heard Harrison as he walked down in shorts and a tshit-shirt, “Going on a run too?” 

“Yup, light one though. I’ve got a lot of work to do today.” You said putting your hair up in a ponytail.

“Sick, I’ll run with you for a bit then.” You smiled and waited outside for him.

When you started running it was a little silent until he spoke, “So did you put that blanket over Tom?” 

“Maybe” you chuckled a bit, it was quiet again.

“Fuck it I’m just gonna say it,” you raised your eyebrow at him, “I shouldn’t be saying thihs, but he hasn’t gotten over you. I think Allana is here just to keep him on his toes. And plus he-” 

“Sorry, Harrison, can we not talk about this now? I’m still trying to forget about my past with him since I’m living in his house and all.” You said breathing hard.

“You know you don’t have to do that. As his best friend I know he’d hate for you to pretend like nothing ever happened between you two.” 

“Alright then, but if something bad happens because of past events I’m blaming you.” You said jokingly and Harrison laughed, “So what are all the things you need to catch me up on, I’ll let you talk now, I already can’t breathe.” Harrison laughed and started updating you on everything.

-

“Wait are you serious? That sounds terrible.” You said, Harrison was telling you how he face planted when he was trying to impress a girl. 

“Oh my god it was so embarrassing, she was so quiet when she helped me up and took her number out of my phone!” You started dying of laughter. 

“I’m so sorry that’s so sad. I can’t help, but to laugh though. She’s missing out though you’re a good looking guy.” He turned red with embarrassment. 

“Aw thanks y/n. Also I can’t believe you ended up running the whole time with me.” You shrugged like it was nothing, but your legs were actually aching. You two stepped into the house to the smell of bacon. 

“Oh hell yeah... wait is that Tom cooking?” Harrison asked, very surprised. 

“Yes, I can cook you div.” Tom said. 

You noticed he changed into sweats and he was shirtless. 

“Bro the last time you cooked was when-”

Tom turned surprised to see you up, you stared at him a bit too long. He cut Haz off before he can spill anymore beans,

“Morning, love, like what you see?” You scoffed,

“Actually no, just waiting for you to burn your nipples or something since your frying bacon without a shirt.” You went to pour a glass of water and as if on cue Tom yelped in pain.

“Fuck, I burned myself.” Tom hissed and you were gonna laugh at him until you saw his side. 

“Oh my god Tom! What the hell how’d you manage to burn your side?” You rushed to his side with an ice pack in a dish towel.

“Haha Tom I thought you said you could cook!” Harrison said dying of laughter.

“Harrison can you go get toothpaste?”

“What the fuck toothpaste?” Harrison and Tom asked at the same time.

“Yes, trust me.” With that Harrison scurried off to get toothpaste.

“Told you being shirtless was a bad idea.” You scolded him.

“You liked it though, don’t deny it,” you pressed the ice pack to his side and he winced, “ouch, love, I was joking.” You giggled a bit at his reaction, 

“How hard is it to find toothpaste? Harrison where are you?” You yelled. You looked back at Tom, seemed like something was on his mind.

“You uh look good, y/n.” He stammered, your face heating up more and your heartbeat quickening,

“Tom don’t.”

“What I can’t say my friend looks good? You told Harrison he’s good looking.” You raised your brow. Was he jealous? How the hell did he hear that from inside?

“You’re something else, Holland. Plus you have a girlfriend, don’t think she’d like to hear you say that. Especially when I’m your ex.” For some reason it pained both of you when you said that.

You sat across from him still waiting for Harrison. Tom nudged your foot with his and said, “Y/n, I wanted to say I was sorry about last night. I was tired and being a complete div.” 

You looked up at him, “It’s alright, sorry for overreacting and walking out.”

“No no you had every right to.” He sighed and was about to continue, but Haz ran in,

“I got the toothpaste!” Harrison said breathless.

“Why the hell did you take so long?” You asked as Harrison handed you the tube and winked at Tom, he rolled his eyes then face palmed.

“Oh my god, Harrison.” Tom groaned. You caught on real quick, Harrison was giving you two alone time. 

“You’re not slick at all Osterfield, you literally suck.” You said as he laughed.

You removed the ice pack from Tom’s side, “Alright, Tom, this is gonna sting a bit.” You warned and spread the paste on his burn he groaned in pain.

“Whoa, Harry cover your innocent eyes!” Tuwaine exclaimed covering his face when he and Harry walked in. 

“Really guys having sex in the kitchen?” Harry said. 

“Oh shut up you dickheads. I burnt myself and y/n is helping me out.” Tom said, still moaning.

“Tom you’re such a baby. Harry we’re no longer best friends anymore.” You stated. Harry laughed as you rolled your eyes. 

“Harrison here to save the day with better bacon than Tom’s bacon!” Harrison sang. Tom slapped Harrison’s leg. You laughed excited for how the next few months would turn out because of how eventful this morning already was.

-

After a very crazy morning and a facetime meeting with your manager you had to go to the table read for the movie you were shooting. Your phone began to ring, it was Harry. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, y/n, I’m really sorry Sam and I are still filming right now. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to pick you up in time to drop you off at your table read. Can you have one of the boys at home take you?” You began to stress a bit, but you knew that Harry was working on something really important to him.

“Yes of course. Let me know how filming goes later!”

“Thanks so much for understanding. I’ll tell you everything when I pick you up for dinner with my family! Bye, love.” You said goodbye and hung up, also completely forgetting about dinner with the Hollands tonight. 

You walked to Harrison’s room and asked, “Hey are you gonna be busy in like the next hour or so?” 

“Sorry, y/n, I’m about to meet up with some friends for lunch. What’d you need?” He asked frantically pacing looking for something. 

“Oh, Harry can’t take me to my tableread anymore, I need a ride.”

“Hmm, oh found it!” Harrison pulled out a watch from his drawer, “Well Tuwaine is leaving with me, so I’m afraid your only options are Tom or the tube.” 

“Really Harrison?” you groaned and he put his hands up in defense, “Ok have fun at lunch.”

You walked over to Tom’s room to see it empty, “He’s outside!” Tuwaine yelled from across Tom’s room. You thanked him and rushed outside to see Tom still shirtless. He was doing push-ups and the toothpaste looked glittery on his right side in the sunlight. His triceps and biceps enlarged every time he pushed his body up.

“You just can’t keep your eyes off me can you, y/n?” He said grunting while finishing his last few reps. You were at a loss for words because he did look really hot at the moment. You blushed and fumbled with your words,

“Oh uh sorry,” He turned and smirked at you, “I need another favor, Harry can’t take me to the tableread and Harrison and Tuwaine are going out for lunch.” He began walking closer to you making your heart skip a beat. What the hell was he doing? “I uh would take myself, but I’ve never driven here before and-” He was inches away from you he reached out and grabbed your shoulder chuckling,

“Alright alright, shut up I’ll take you.” You stared into each other's eyes not breaking eye contact and he reached over to slide the door open wider and he walked past you. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and rolled your eyes, you can’t let him get to you, he has a girlfriend! “We need to go in 45 minutes, thanks, Tom!” you yelled and he held a thumbs up.

-

“Z, I swear I cannot live in this house. Tom is acting like he’s some fuck boy and I swear he really is trying to pull something and he has a girlfriend! Did you know that?” You were rambling

“Uhmmm maybe…” She said awkwardly.

“Z! What the hell? Both you and Harry didn’t tell me.”

“What? Didn't think you’d care, cause you’re a ‘badddd bitchhh’.” You laughed at her mocking you.

“Fine, you and Harry said the exact same thing, weird… anyways what the hell do I do?” You said with your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you looked through your closet for something decent to wear at the Holland house. 

“Well, I think you should just focus on what you're doing right now and focus on your growth. Sis, you just broke up with someone, be free for now. It’s time to focus on you and your work.” Zendaya was right, you needed some time to self evaluate and grow, “But also maybe look super hot tonight at the dinner, you know, take his breath away.” She started laughing.

“Z, no! You just said not to worry about boys and he has a girlfriend…”

“But…” she said, waiting for you to carry on.

“But… ok I’ll dress cute, it’s always fun doing that.” You both laughed and she told you what to wear.

“Ok I’m gonna get ready for the tableread, I’ll text you. Love ya!” You said and she said it back and you guys hung up.

“Y/n can we actually leave in 5 minutes? I want to grab lunch, my treat!” Tom said from down the hall.

“Yeah sure.” You grabbed your purse and a bag with extra clothes. You walked out and ran into Tom with a thump he held your shoulders keeping you steady.

“Oops sorry, love. Was just going to tell you to not forget there’s dinner with my family tonight.”

“Yep, got the extra clothes in here.” You said holding up the bag to show him, he smiled and took his hands off your shoulders to take the bag from you and put it over his shoulder, “I could’ve carried it but thanks, bud.” You patted his shoulder and walked off. Tom’s heart dropped when you called him, “bud.”

-

Tom pulled up to a small cafe that seemed oddly familiar. As soon as he opened the door for you you remembered.

~

Tom brought back a tray with two burgers, fries, and waters. 

“This place has the best burgers in town. Closest thing we have to in-n-out burgers.” he said handing you the second tray. You told Tom you were starting to feel homesick and said he might know how to cheer you up. You smiled taking a huge bite into the burger, Tom looked at you waiting for your reaction, 

“Oh my god. Absolutely amazing!” Your eyes lit up and Tom’s heart jolted at the joy on your face. He continued to watch you eat the burger that was somewhat making you less homesick, “Hey, Holland, it’s rude to stare. Eat your burger before I eat it.” You joked and he laughed while taking a bite. His heart began to race as he debated whether or not he should tell you how he feels, then he thought ‘fuck it’.

“Y/n, darling?” You hummed in response.

Here goes nothing, “I like you, y/n. I have for a while now.”

~

Your thoughts went back to what Zendaya was saying, “don’t worry about boys right now.” You took a deep breath and moved up in the line with Tom. “Tom is that you?” Someone asked from behind the counter. 

“Oh, Ms. Sheila! It’s lovely seeing you again.” He said warmly and she came over to give him a hug.

“It’s been so long, and I see you’ve brought this lovely girl back. Is she your girlfriend now?” You widen your eyes and blush.

“Oh my uh no no. We’re just friends, Ms. Sheila.”

“Isn’t this the girl you confessed your feelings to, dear? Then you never came back after that, well only once and that was still ages ago.” 

“Oh, that was a while ago Ms. Sheila. Tom and I are just friends now.” You said before Tom. 

“Oh well that’s a shame you two would make a lovely couple. Anywho what can I get for you two today?” She asked as you followed her to her side of the counter.

“Two of the usuals please.” Tom asked. She nodded and brought the order out within 5 minutes. 

“Now, Tom, I hope you come back more often. Your brothers still come in every now and then.” Tom smiled and promised Ms. Sheila that he’d come back more. 

“How’d she know what your usual is if you haven’t been here in so long?” You asked as you both walked to a booth. 

“I’d come here to get breakfast with my family on Saturdays and would usually hang out here with my mates after school. This place is really special to me, I’ve made a lot of memories here.” He said picking at his fries, only making it more obvious what memory he was thinking about. You two ate in silence for a while not knowing what to say because of what went down the last time you were both here. 

“Alright, ready to go to set, love?” He asked, you nodded as you finished your last bit of the burger and he ate the last of your fries. You and Tom said goodbye to Ms. Sheila and said you’d come back again soon. 

“Thanks, Tom, I owe you big time.” You said looking at him with a smile.

“No problem, but what for?” He asked, glancing at you then back at the road.

“For the meal, taking me to set, and letting me stay at your lovely house.”

“Oh it’s no big deal. You helped me heal my burn,” he paused and cleared his throat, “Uhm b-besides, Harry literally begged me to let you stay, and I’ll be gone next week to film Uncharted. So I’ll uh be out of your hair” He joked and your heart dropped. Harry told you Tom is the one that suggested you stay at their house. Now you sat there confused about who to believe. Regardless you were definitely going to have a chat with Harry about all of this.

Tag list:  @averyfosterthoughts @thollandx @mrsjeffwittek @panicattheeverywherekid @racewife2004 @greatpizzascissorstaco @witchything @wheelertozier @runway-to-my-aid

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 4: Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2315

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Sleeping in was something I used to enjoy.  Nestled in warm sheets while the world outside continued to turn, safe in a cozy cocoon.  After the Change, it was no longer so peaceful.  Although the house was decently soundproofed for humans, I could hear water running as someone showered.  The buzz of an electric razor.  Clinking of dishes in the kitchen.  After ten minutes of hiding with a pillow over my head, I gave up and burrowed out of the nest of blankets.  I was just pulling my shirt on when Mickayla knocked.  A thrill of pride ran through me for recognizing her scent.  I was getting better at this!

“Mornin’,” I called out and she came in at the tone of invitation in my greeting.

“How was your little adventure last night?” she grinned.

“Mortifying,” I grumped while tugging a brush through my hair.

“So if I tell you that there’s a betting pool on when you’d make a break for it we can see if werewolves die of embarrassment?”  Her grin deepened to flash a lot of pretty, white teeth.

“How about you give me a cut and I don’t throw my dirty, wet socks in your face?”  I started to reach for the duffel full of dirty clothes.  She laughed and handed me a couple of bills, which I stuffed into a pocket without counting.  “Next time let me know, I’m not above taking a fall.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”  A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose.

“Eugene and Seattle aren’t all that far.”  I turned away to wrestle my hair into a ponytail.  One look in the mirror confirmed that there was no hiding the marks from Angus’ bite, so might as well own it.  “I’m sure I could get a babysitter to come with.”  There, that barely had any bitterness to it.

“Don’t think of it that way,” she shook her head so that the blonde waves swayed back and forth.  “Think of it more like sexy bodyguards.”  I laughed in spite of myself.  “Speaking of which.”  There was a glint in her sea-blue eyes that suddenly made me very suspicious.  “You’ll want to swear off humans for awhile until you get used to your new strength.  Don’t want to break your toys.”

I stared at her in confusion until comprehension crashed over me, immediately followed by a furious blush.  “That is certainly not an issue.  Happily single since the divorce became final last year.”

“Ah,” said Mickayla knowingly, and I belatedly remembered with no small amount of chagrin that she was a therapist.  “That’s why you’re so determined to not get involved with a pack.  Too much commitment.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for psychoanalysis,” I groaned, rubbing at my face.

“Come on, cranky pants, let’s get you some breakfast.  New wolves are kinda like kids.  If they’re cranky, do they need food or sleep?  Antsy?  Then they need to go run off some energy.”  She linked her arm and in mine as we set off for the kitchen.

“Gee, thanks for that glowing comparison,” I said snidely.

“And in your case, maybe caffeine.”

“Give me tea and nobody gets hurt,” I pronounced solemnly.

“Threatening bodily harm before nine am, are you sure she’s submissive?” asked a man who had come out of a room behind us, also evidently on the hunt for breakfast.

“Watch this.”  Mickayla fixed me with a glare and before I even knew it my neck bent against my will till my throat was bared to her.  And she hadn’t even drawn on any power.  I glared at her from the corner of my eye and my face grew flaming hot.

“I wanna try,” he said.  I met his dark brown eyes with no small amount of anger that he thought he could control me so easily.  “How?  I’m more dominant than you,” he sputtered at Mickayla in confusion.  She laughed and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.

“She doesn’t know or respect you, Brian.  Neither her or her wolf are gonna roll over for some stranger unless he seriously pulls rank.  Do you think Alan would for just any old wolf?” she asked the somewhat forlorn wolf.

“Who’s Alan?”  At the stairs, Mickayla released us and led the way down with Brian in back so that I was sandwiched between them.  It seemed automatic, like their instincts to protect subtly guided their movements.

“Our submissive and resident quack,” Brian answered.  I automatically started to bristle at labeling any healer with such an epithet.  That thought was pushed out when it occurred to me that if they had both a submissive and a female, then they probably had no need of another.

“I’d like to see you call him that the next time he has to patch you up,” she said dryly.

The kitchen was sized and equipped to feed a small army.  Come to think of it, was there any difference between that and a pack?  People moved in vaguely organized chaos, piling plates with bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns, and various baked goods before moving to the dining room on the far side.  Mickayla reached around someone, who was busy wrestling the Danish that he wanted from the rest of the basket, grabbed two plates and handed one to me.  Being small meant I could easily dart around and through people to get in and out quickly, but I had no idea what the protocol was for seating arrangements so I stuck close to Mickayla and Matt, who’d joined us.

I had never seen a dining table so big, at least a dozen people were already sitting and there was room for more.  It was obviously custom made.  The kitchen also had a table that was pushed up against the main one so that everyone could be seated.  I gave Mickayla raised eyebrows in question.

“You get our fearless leader’s right hand side.  Normally that’s Tom’s, Angus’ second, but since he’s not here you get it as our honoured guest,” she said with only a hint of teasing.  I gave her a grateful look before taking the seat in question.  I stifled my surprise when she and Matt sat to my left.  Evidently they were high in the hierarchy to sit next to the second, which I thought was a silly term when Beta would have made much more sense.

“Shane and Matt will be ready to hit the road by 10:30,” Angus said casually after I’d made some headway into my meal, trying my best to ignore him.  Why he thought I’d be safer with two strange werewolves than on my own, I would never understand.  But Matt couldn’t be all bad if Mickayla had married him.

“So soon?” I asked just as casually as I liberally doused my hashbrowns with salt and pepper.  “I thought I might stick around and get to know ya’ll better.  If I have to give up my job, there’s not much of a reason to go back to Oregon right away.  Unless that would be an issue?”  Put two or more intelligent beings in a room together and politics could spontaneously erupt in a vacuum.  Visiting a pack in another state before even meeting the one back home could potentially cause more than an eruption.

The room went eerily silent as the others waited to see what their Alpha would say.  Most of them seemed to be mildly surprised and curious.  I was pretty sure they had all noticed the mark on my neck, but no one had said anything nor given it a second glance.  Despite the weird fluttery feeling of fear in my chest, I managed to actually look him in the face.  Not the eye, of course, but his strong chin, which was one of his few physical aspects that said Alpha.  Maybe that was because I always had trouble seeing men with weak chins as dominant.

“The Eugene Pack was hard-pressed to welcome you on such short notice, so no feathers will be ruffled.  And despite what that crazy lone wolf might have put in your head, you are free to travel.”  He gave a small smile that eased some of the tension that had somehow crept into my shoulders.  I was no Helen of Troy, but the apparent rarity of submissive females and the territoriality of werewolves could create a powder keg waiting to go off.  As much as I enjoyed yanking his chain, any fallout could affect both packs and they didn’t deserve that.

Mickayla made a “gimme” gesture at Brian, who sat a few seats down from her.  He sighed and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.  “Haven’t you learned not to bet against my mate yet?” Matt shook his head.

“Hey, didn’t she only go out with you because of a bet?” Brian retorted.

“Yeah, and even though I won, I still ended up losing,” Mickayla said with mock ruefulness.  The banter and round of chuckles said that it was an old joke.

“Speaking of sore losers,” I said to her with a pointed look, “I have some wet, dirty socks in dire need of a wash if there’s a washing machine I could use?”

“I’ll show you where we keep our poor beleaguered beast chained up in the basement,” Shane offered as he stood up with his empty plate.  I followed suit since I was done as well.  Mickayla surreptitiously slipped me a tenner as I passed, which immediately went into my back pocket.

“Don’t scare the poor girl!” someone called out.

“Eh, she’s seen your face and it hasn’t run her off yet.”  The teasing faded only slightly as I tagged along behind Shane.

“O captain, my captain,” Mickayla said without a trace of mockery.  There never was with her.  “If I may beg an audience?”  I nodded with a small smile that conveyed exactly what I thought of her false formality.

“Since it’s our duty to woo the new girl, some of us were thinking of showing her around town,” Mickayla said once we were ensconced in my office.  I had a suspicion that the others she was thinking of had no inkling of their implication in her plotting yet.

“Considering how she navigated rush hour traffic to evade Tom, I’d say she knows the area pretty well.”  Neither the wolf nor I liked the idea of Ellie leaving our sight.  I propped one hip on my desk without a care that it put my head slightly lower than if I were standing.  Like most of my wolves, she was taller than me anyway and she had never been anything other than proper.  Oh sure, she would skirt the bounds of propriety when the situation allowed for it, but never in a manner that would call my authority into question.

“It might be good for her to get out and see that we’re not as draconian as that John made us out to be.”  Translation: prove to her she’s not going to lose all of her freedom or she’ll bolt again.

“If you are going to manipulate me, you’re going to have to do a better job than that.”  While her point was valid, I was not about to let her think I would cave so easily.

“You can talk at her until you’re blue in the face, but she won’t understand the benefits of a pack until she sees it,” said Mickayla.  “She’s only staying because the evil that you know is better and partly to tweak your tail.”  I raised an eyebrow at that observation.  “Ellie’s a modern woman suddenly thrown into submissive wolf mentality and those instincts scare the daylight out of her.  So she’s going to make us all work for it before she settles down.”

“Dominance is dictated by a person’s nature before the Change,” I shook my head.  “She’s submissive because she was as a human.”

“I think her ex-husband did a number on her, or maybe John, or both,” she said with a small frown, which I mirrored at the thought of what might have happened to her.  “That’s why she’s so prickly with any male who tries to play power games with her, like verbally bitch-slapping the guys last night.  If she can relax where there aren’t so many wolves, she might tell me more.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after regarding her thoughtfully for several beats.  Part of that time was spent contemplating tearing apart Ellie’s ex.

“Hit Pike’s Place until she realizes she’s not ready for so much public.  One or two of us should be able to help her keep control.”  Mickayla’s smile was far too predatory to belong on the face of a therapist.

“One of the biggest tourist traps on a three-day weekend?” I asked in disbelief and gave her the look that idea deserved.

“She still thinks of herself as human and she’s likely to screw up pretty badly until she sees that.  The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner she might calm down,” she pointed out.

“Take Matt and Shane with you,” I sighed and waved at her to go.  Not only were they good muscle, but they were both married, even if Shane’s wife was human.

“Technically this is pack business, especially since she would work well with Alan, both as a medic and a sub.”  If she’d said anyone other than Alan, my hackles would’ve gone up.  Their temperaments, although both being submissive, weren’t suited for mating.  And I got the feeling that Ellie liked her men dominant, despite what she may say.  I affected a much put-upon sigh, drew out my wallet, selected a credit card, and passed it to the blonde.  She accepted it with both hands, kissed the simple ring on my middle finger, then flashed a smile and a wink before dashing off to find her charge.

[breanime]

Take Care Of You

Combining @ms-delos request:  Can I have Logan refusing to go to a doctor?🤣 all macho man! with @funerals-with-cake  Could you do ‘A not understanding why B’s doing doing this because ‘nobody has ever taken care of me before’’ from the SicFics, with Logan pleaseeee!! P.S. I adore your writing, it’s next level :)

Thanks for the requests, guys! I hope you like your sick Logan!

*gif not mine*

“I’m not sick,” Logan sniffled.

“You’re sick,” you said back.

“No,” he sniffled again, “I’m fine. The picture of health.” He coughed. “You’re sick.”

“Okay,” you put your purse down and approached Logan, who was lying on the couch wearing nothing but a pink mink coat, “Let me feel your forehead.” He nuzzled into your hand with a soft sigh. He was burning up. “Aw, baby.”

“I’m fine,” he said, face still pressed against your hand, “I just need to get dressed, we have plans tonight.”

You clicked your tongue. “We had plans tonight, but you have a fever. Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Logan stood up slowly, wobbling a bit until you put your arm around his waist to steady him. “I like where this is going,” he gave you a weak grin as you led him back to his bedroom.

You helped Logan in bed, stripping him of the coat and forcing him to put on a pair of boxers instead. You wrapped him in blankets before running to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water. You looked in his medicine cabinet but only found condoms and sleeping pills. Great. You walked back into the bedroom, hands on your hips. “I’ll let you rest for another 30 minutes, then we’re going to the doctor.”

Logan sat up, glaring at you with watery eyes. “I’m not going to a damn doctor,” he protested.

“Logan—”

“—I haven’t been to the doctor since I was 19 and so high that I could hear colors,” he went on, “and the only reason I even went was because I’d had a hard-on for 18 hours straight. That’s too much, even for me…”

“You have a fever, and you need antibiotics,” you countered, “It’s only going to get worse.”

“I’m a man,” he huffed, wrapping himself up in his blankie, “I’m gonna tough it out and get over it and it’ll be fine.” He smirked. “Then I’m gonna shower, change the sheets, and fuck you until you also agree that I’m a man.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I know you’re a man, Logan. I know it very well. I also know that you’re sick and you need medicine—”

“—I’m not going to a doctor,” he said, “I admit that I might be…a little sick,” he choked on a cough but went on, “I probably have a cold. But I’m not going to the doctor!” He coughed again, his body shaking with the force of it.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, running over to him and rubbing his back, “no doctor. Fine.” You handed him his water bottle. “Drink.” He gulped it down. “Lay back.” He did as he was told—for once. You ran your fingers through his hair, sighing again as you felt the heat coming off of his skin. “Have you eaten yet today?”

“I had a glass of wine and half a cinnamon roll,” he reported.

“Jesus, Logan, how are you even alive?” You fluffed his pillows and helped him tug the blanket up around his chin. “What have you been doing all day?”

“Trying to get ready for tonight.”

“In Burberry pink mink?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I wanna treat you right. Had reservations and everything,” he looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes, “We can still make it if we hurry.” He blinked up at you. “You look so pretty.”

Laughing, you ruffled his hair, making him huff in protest. “I’m wearing sweats.”

“You’re right, you’d look better in nothing. Grab my mink coat, baby, I wanna see you wear it.” He grinned.

“Maybe after I get back.” You said, giving him a quick kiss on his warm forehead.

“Get back? Where are you going?” He pouted.

“I’m going to get you some medicine and chicken noodle soup and tea,” you said, going over to the wall and flicking the lights off, “Take a nap, baby.”

He snuggled into the blankets; a pout clear on his face even in the dim room. “I sleep better when you’re with me,” he muttered.

You giggled. You walked back over to him and kissed his forehead one more time. “I’ll be back before you know it,” you said, “Get some rest, baby.”

Logan’s eyes were fluttering closed, but he turned his head in your direction. “Get back soon, baby.”

You hurried to the store, eager to be back with Logan, but there must have been some kind of virus going around, because everyone in New York suddenly needed tissues and soup and cough medicine, so you had to go to three different places to get everything Logan needed. Three hours had passed by the time you walked back into Logan’s place, and you hoped he’d slept the whole time.

He did.

He was still in bed, on his side hugging a pillow to his chest with two blankets over him. You could see him shivering, even though he was sweaty when you touched his forehead. You went to the kitchen and got to work fixing his soup and organizing the armful of meds you got for him. Another hour passed before you heard the sound of Logan sluggishly getting out of bed and hobbling to the kitchen. He was wearing his boxers and his fluffy navy-blue robe, and he looked adorable.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you, his voice barely a whisper.

You melted. “Hey,” you wrapped him in your arms, and Logan dropped his head onto your shoulder, “I’m sorry it took me so long, every store was packed—”

He turned so his face was nuzzled against your neck. His beard and breath tickled you as he spoke, and you weren’t sure if it was the fever or just Logan that was making you so hot. “No need to apologize, baby.” He hugged you to him. “I’ve never… No one’s ever taken care of me before. I…” He looked back at you, the confusion clear in his face. “…how can I pay you back?”

Now you were confused. “Pay me back?” You repeated.

“I mean—I ruined date night, made us lose our reservation and now you’re taking care of me—”

“Because I want to, not because I want something in return,” you clarified, running your fingers through his hair until he put his head back on your shoulder. You rubbed his back with your other hand. “How you feelin’?”

He sniffled. “Throat hurts. Head hurts. ‘M cold. Achy.” His hand traveled down to your ass, giving it a feeble squeeze. “’M hungry.”

You laughed. “Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll make you something to eat.” You helped Logan back into bed, turning on the TV for him. “I got some different kinds of tea; I’ll make you a cup while you wait.” You kissed his forehead. “You’re not allowed to get on your phone,” you said as you walked out, “No work!”

Thankfully, you were able to get Logan to take some medicine with his tea, (you had to bargain “medicine here or go see a doctor!” to get it, but it worked), and he ate his soup with no complaints. In fact, between the soup, the medicine, and you cuddling with him in bed while Pretty Woman played softly in the background (“she’s just like me!” Logan had excitedly slurred when it came on), he was starting to get drowsy.

“Baby girl,” he said, head against your chest as you rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head, “I gotta ask you somethin’.”

“Yeah?”

“When you’re little, who’s supposed to take care of you when you’re sick?” He asked, dark eyes blinking up at you innocently.

You stared down at him. The fact that he would even ask that question was heartbreaking. “Your parents,” you answered simply.

He hummed, closing his eyes. “Mine never did. Our nannies took care of us, and they were paid for it.” He smiled, looking more like himself in that moment than he had all day. “No one’s paying you, though.” His smile turned into smirk. “I mean, I’m paying you in mind-blowing sex…”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m taking care of you because I love you, you ass.”

Logan looked at you, his dark eyes a little watery and drowsy, but still gorgeously alive. “I love you, baby.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

You kissed his forehead again, knowing the chances of you getting sick too were getting higher and higher but not caring. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said gently, cradling his head in your arms as you ran your fingers through his thick, messy hair, “Relax, baby. This is your favorite part…”

You and Logan watched the movie together until he dozed off, snoring softly into your chest as the movie went on. You ended up falling asleep as well, and when you woke up, Logan was gone.

Stretching, you wandered into the kitchen to find your boyfriend, shirtless, standing at the stove. “What are you doing?” You asked.

He turned, a spatula in his hand. “Good mornin’, baby,” he said, shooting you a smile, “I was gonna make you breakfast in bed.”

“How are you feeling?” You asked, coming up behind him to give him a hug. He still felt warm, but he was already looking better.

“Better,” he answered, smiling down at you, “My throat still hurts, but I think the medicine kicked in.”

“I told you so,” you teased, turning him around with your hands on his hips, “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll finish breakfast?”

“But baby,” he whined even as you moved him to sit at the table.

“No buts! You’re still sick, you need to rest.” You kissed his temple. “How about orange juice, toast, and some pills?” You offered.

“And a kiss?” He asked. You pecked his forehead again. “I meant a real kiss.”

“Not until you’re confirmed as non-contagious,” you sang.

He pouted. “Confirmed by who? You?”

You grinned, pouring a glass of orange juice for him, taking great care to give him a good look down your shirt. He took the bait—just like you knew he would. Your smile was as sweet as sugar when you straightened up, looking down at him while batting your eyelashes. “A doctor.”

His mouth fell open, scandalized. You went about preparing his breakfast, humming as you laid his medicine out for him. Finally, he spoke. “…Can we go to the doctor today?”

You nodded. “Yes we can, baby.” You went over to him and kissed the top of his head. “And after you get a clean bill of health,” you promised, cuddling him to your chest, “I’ll let you take care of me…”

You could feel his smirk against your skin. Even if you did get sick, it would be more than worth.

Logan was always worth it.

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Fun fact: My throat started to hurt as I was writing this :’) Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 

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[witchymarvelspacecase]

Promise Not to Be Mad

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, Angst, mentions of injuries, cardiac arrest, more fluff

My entry to @whiskey-cokenfanfic‘s birthday challenge. It’s a day late cause I’m a piece of shit person. Sorry!!! Hope the birthday was amazing!

Prompt is in bold.

Bucky had fallen asleep in the common room. He’d been watching a movie with Sam, Wanda, and you. When he opened his, Sam and Wanda were both gone, and the TV was turned off. There was a blanket over his shoulders, and your head was in his lap. He didn’t remember you being that way before he fell asleep, but he was pleasantly surprised. There was a blanket draped over you too. Bucky suspected Sam was behind the blankets, but knew he’d never admit to it.

Sunlight was just starting to spill through the windows of the tower and the rays lit up the dust motes in the air, making them seem to sparkle. Subtle highlights in your hair sparkled too. The light brushed you face softly, giving you an otherworldly glow. Bucky wished he had some of Steve’s talent just then; he didn’t even have a camera handy.

And the moment wasn’t long-lived either. No sooner had Bucky made a conscious effort to commit the beauty before him to memory, than an alarm began blaring throughout the tower. 

You shot up out of his lap, or at least, you tried to. The blanket tangled around you and caused you to flop unceremoniously on the floor.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Bucky chuckled. 

You gave him a tired glare which would have been much more fearsome had you not been sporting sleep marks on your face from the creases in Bucky’s pants. 

He helped you up and you both sprinted to the conference room.

“Ah, sleeping beauty,” Sam called as you entered the room. You weren’t sure who Sam was referring to, but you flipped him off anyway, before directing your attention to Steve and Tony. 

“U.N. compound is under attack. They don’t have the resources to defend themselves, and we’re pretty sure the attackers have ties to more than one international terrorist organization, so we’re up. Wheels up in 20.”

The file you picked up as you boarded the quinjet told you more. An untold number of insurgents with automatic weapons and some alien tech were hitting the U.N.. The building was in some tiny European country you’d never heard of, but there were more than a few dignitaries in residence at the moment, and this had all the potential to become a war if not handled properly.

“Couldn’t have waited an hour before they attacked, I was having a good dream,” you grumbled as you strapped into your seat.

“Well you certainly looked comfy enough, cuddling up with Bucky n’ all.”

“Shut up, Steve.”

“Well ya were,” Steve smiled as he continued teasing you. 

Honestly, you’d been pretty mortified that you’d fallen asleep on Bucky like that. It would have been bad enough if Steve saw you, but the fact that Bucky had been awake and sen you? God you wanted to die. 

More than once you had the urge to cuddle with Bucky, more than once you had wanted nothing more than to lean into him, or hug him, but you just felt you couldn’t. You wouldn’t throw yourself at him like that. This wasn’t the first time Steve had teased you about this either. He knew how you felt about Bucky. More than one drunken, or emotional confession had poured form your lips, and Steve was always willing to listen. You would regret the confessions later though; he didn’t mean anything by his picking on you, but sometimes it was too much.

You looked away from Steve, checking your gear again to avoid his gaze.

“What, it’s sweet,” Steve continued. He sat next to you even though his chair was on the other side of the jet. Jerk. He wasn’t gonna let up.

“Let it go, Steve. I’m already embarrassed about it.”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

When you looked up, ready to chew him out, you caught his expression. He looked genuinely confused. Odd. You’d thought he’d been making fun of you. But before you could ask him about it, Bucky boarded the jet. He was the last to board so take off was initiated. Steve moved to his assigned seat, next to Bucky, and you were left confused.

…

“Hey Buck,” Steve said quietly as the jet flew to the U.N. building, “why would she be embarrassed that I saw you two cuddle up this morning?” Bucky caught Steve’s nod in your direction, but he wasn’t sure what to say. His face must have said as much, because Steve continued. “I mean, we all know you like each other. I just figured you’d finally figured it out. She’s got no reason to be embarrassed.”

“You what?” Bucky practically shouted.

“What what?”

“Why would you think we were- what do you mean “like each other”?”

“Seriously? Aside from the fact that you both practically moon over each other? I am friends with both of you. I talk to both of you. I know both of you,” Steve responded, exasperated.

“Yeah? And?”

“Think about how I know that you like her. Then ask yourself how I would know if she liked you.” Steve turned from Bucky’s lost face to look across the jet, a smirk on his lips.

Bucky didn’t have time to ponder that thought, final descent was called and everyone checked their gear one last time.

“After this,” Bucky thought. He could hear the chaos; gunshots and explosions already. “After this is over, Stevie and I are gonna have a talk.” The sounds of battle increased in volume. Bucky met your gaze and you gave him a grin. His heart kicked in his chest. Could Steve be right? No way did he deserve her, but if she chose him? Fuck, he’d do anything for her. He returned her grin with a wink as the jet’s rear door lowered.

It felt like moments later, but in reality hours had passed. Most of the insurgents had been cleared out, and all the civilians had been moved into the compound, to safety. A steady rain had begun to pour from the sky making your jobs harder, but the team was down to the last handful of enemies when it happened. 

Bucky heard you shout for Wanda, saw you running for her, pushing her out of the way. Then nothing. He couldn’t hear the gunshots anymore. He couldn’t hear Steve yelling. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, and over that, the echo of your scream. He felt like it took him far too long to cross the field to you. He didn’t feel pain as his knees hit the ground beside you, and he didn’t notice how his pants grew damp with a combination of rain water and your blood. 

Your eyes were wide open, but it was like you couldn’t see. Bucky had his hands on either side of your face, cupping your cheeks, but you didn’t look at him until he called your name.

“Hey,” you said weakly, a grimace ruining the smile you tried to give Bucky.

“Hey yourself. I thought you said it was Sam’s turn to get shot?” Bucky tried to keep his tone light as he assessed you. He could barely see anything with the dark tac-suit you had on combined with the cloud filled sky. The rain made it hard to discern what was blood and what was water. For a moment he wasn’t sure you had been wounded at all, until his hand brushed your abdomen.

You gasped, then a pain filled whine fell from your lips as Bucky applied pressure to the heavily bleeding hole below your ribs. 

He called over the comms for someone, anyone. He needed to get you out, to get you help, but everyone was engaged. Bucky all but screamed. More insurgents appeared around him, and for a moment, Bucky hesitated. He knew if he took the pressure off your wound, you might die, but if he didn’t handle the attackers, you would both die.

He hesitated a moment too long.

You managed to pull a gun from your thigh holster, and put bullets into three of the attackers before any of them even noticed you. The moment one of the opposing gun barrels pointed at you, Bucky moved.

Moments later, he stood over the fallen bodies of the insurgents. He hadn’t meant to kill any of them, at least not in the beginning. Now? Now, he didn’t bother to check any of them for vitals. Now, he moved quickly back to you.

Your color was awful. Where you’d once had a healthy glow, your skin was ashen. You were shaking slightly, and your lips had a bluish tint to them. Bucky’s knees hit the ground by your head and he carefully pulled you up so your shoulders were resting on his lap. 

“Did we get them all?” you asked. 

Bucky smiled, but tears were pooling in his eyes. “Yeah, we did. You got most of ‘em for me though, I just cleaned up.”

You tried to laugh, but it hurt so bad. You could barely breathe. Short, shallow pants were all you could manage.

Bucky’s fingers were gentle where they glided over your cheeks, wiping away the rain water, muck, and blood. You gave him a wan smile when one of his hands reached for yours, and you forced your non-responsive fingers to thread through his.

“Please don’t go.” Bucky’s whisper surprised you a little. 

“You had to know I wasn’t gonna live forever, Bucky. No one does.”

“You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live!” he yelled. He was angry, but not sure at whom.

“I’m tryin’,” you coughed and something warm trickled from your lips. “Promise you won’t be mad … if I fail?”

“I could never be mad at you, doll,” Bucky choked as tears spilled over his cheeks.

Sam and Steve appeared as your eyes closed. The rest of the insurgents had turned tail and run. The Avengers were pulling back into the compound. A flurry of activity ensued. Bucky was unaware of most of it. He saw you being placed on a gurney and taken away from him, and it was like his mind went blank. 

Next thing he knew, he was ensconced in a very uncomfortable plastic chair, staring at the blood encrusting his hands, as Steve paced in front of him.

…

Garbled announcements came over the P.A. Helen Cho power walked past him, and through a set of double doors, barely pausing to take a clipboard that the nurse offered to her. 

More and more people in scrubs dashed past, but Bucky could barely tell. All he could see was your smiling face turning into a pained grimace, and all he could hear was you asking him not to be angry with you.

It was all so very far away from where the day had begun. All he’d wanted a few hours ago was to tell you how beautiful you were. Now, maybe he’d missed his chance. He wouldn’t get to tell you, wouldn’t ever be able to kiss you if…

“Please live. Please,” Bucky whispered, his eyes shut tight against the hospital’s bright lights.

…

That was where Tony found him. Hunched over in a tiny chair, looking as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders.

Tony knew that feeling, but he didn’t know how to help. Fortunately, Wanda walked in behind him. She stepped around Tony to crouch in front of Bucky.

“C’mon Bucky. We need to get you cleaned up before she wakes up. She’ll tell us all off for letting you sit around like this.” Wanda kept her tone soft, but her grip was firm as she tugged Bucky out of his chair, and down the hallway. Tony wondered is she may have used a bit of her powers, since Bucky didn’t utter a single protest at being removed from the area, but he didn’t ask, instead he walked over to stand next to Steve.

“Any news?” he asked.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, and there was damage to her stomach.” The men both looked out the window. “The doc was optimistic the last time I checked, but that was before she coded.” Steve shivered slightly.

“Little thing like that won’t stop her, Rogers,” Tony’s voice sounded sure.  Steve wasn’t sure if he really believed that or not, but he nodded, wanting to believe.

…

It was a few days later that the doctors gave the all clear for visitors. You hadn’t woken up, but the medical staff assured the team that you would soon. Bucky didn’t know if he believed them. He’d seen the blood, the wound. He couldn’t stop seeing them. He wouldn’t leave the room you were in. Steve hadn’t told him that your heart had stopped, let alone that it had stopped twice, and he wasn’t planning on it either. Bucky only left your side to go to the bathroom, and only then if either Sam or Natasha was with you.

Bucky held your hand. Sometimes he would rub his thumb over the back of your hand, sometimes he would hold your hand up to his cheek. Sometimes he would kiss your knuckles. But he wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t.

He fell asleep like that, holding your hand to his cheek, with his head resting on your bed. HIs back would be killing him in the morning, but he hadn’t thought of that. HAdn;t intended to sleep at all.

When you woke, the lights were just a bit to bright, but when you tried to raise your hand to shield your eyes, you couldn’t move it. Squinting, you looked to your hand and noticed a few things. One, there was an ugly pink blanket that was certainly not yours over you. Two, there was an I.V. in the back of your hand. And three, Bucky was under that hand, his hand on your wrist.

Raising your head slightly, you looked around. Not my room. Looking out the window you knew you weren’t even in the tower. You went to adjust your legs and an involuntary groan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it. 

Bucky’s head shot up. He looked around the room, checking for danger, and it took him a moment before he looked to you.

“Hey,” you croaked. Your voice was harsh with disuse, but Bucky clearly didn’t care. His hands came to either side of your face and he cupped your cheeks. You had a strange feeling of deja vu. Then your mind rolled back to the last thing you remembered. Bucky, pleading for you to live. “I’m okay Bucky. I’m okay.”

Bucky let out gasping breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead on yours. He pressed a kiss to the space between your eyes and his hands slid to the back of your head.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” His voice sounded gravely, like he was having a hard time talking. 

“I’ll do my best,” you promised, relaxing into the back of the bed, letting Bucky lean into you. “Promise not to be mad if I fail?”

Bucky pulled back then. His eyes stared straight into yours.His right hand came to the side of your face again before he leaned back towards you, but this time, he didn’t press his forehead to yours. This time he pressed his lips to yours. It was a brief, chaste kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless. You blinked at him as he pulled back. When he started to look worried, you smiled at him and raised your hand to grasp his right wrist, squeezing gently. He returned your smile before pressing a longer kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back again he said, “I could never be angry at you, doll.”

----------------------------------

Avengers Perma Tags (Open):

@ldyhawkeye , @gonnadiereading , @lilmissperfectlyimperfect 

Bucky/Sebastian Tags (Open): @waywardpumpkin, @smileybear17, @not-sebastian-stan , @chubby-dumplin 

Perma Tags (Open): @buckyappreciationsociety , @17marvelousfreak , @melconnor2007 , @writingwithadinosaur , @whenallsaidanddone , @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt , @umwhatandrea , @pineapplebooboo , @thefridgeismybestie , @xlemon-limex , @sammysgirl1997 , @4theluvofall , @geeksareunique  @madcheshire89 , @shakzer00 , @ajimagines , @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun , @mummy-woves-you , @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for , @strangersstranger , @dreams-of-feysand

[shroudwayman]

Get To Know The Character: Renaux Mercier

► Name ➔ “Renaux Mercier, charmed~.” ► Are you single ➔ “I am not single, but I’m also not taken by just one....?”  ► Are you happy ➔ “Am I alive? Then yea, I’m happy.” ► Are you angry? ➔ “... When an’ where it’s warranted. It’s necessary at times.”  ► Are your parents still married ➔ “I’m not quite sure my parents ever officially sat before a priestess, but they were as closely bound as they aught to be before the Twelve. Linked by the same shackles durin’ sentencin’ is like tradin’ vows over rings, right?”

EIGHT FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “The Twelveswood.” That was lovely and vague.  ► Hair Color ➔ “Black, I dye the green within it. Well, someone else does, I just pay them to.”  ► Eye Color ➔ “Why don’t you come see? ... Green, it’s green.” ► Birthday ➔ Renaux looks uncomfortable and shakes his head, giving only silence.  ► Mood ➔ “Chipper, cheery, mischievous, playful, pert. I’ve got a mouthful of others if you want me to keep listin’ ‘em~.” ► Gender ➔ "Last I checked I was male, but you’re welcome to confirm at your leisure.” ► Summer or winter ➔ "Winter. The summer is lovely for the weather but there’s... It’s just lovely when it’s cooler, cuddle weather, y’know?”  ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Mornin’, whatever counts for mornin’ that day. Realizin’ I’ve woken up, which means I’ve inevitably slept, an’ that I’ve got a new day to face. That’s livin’, yea?” 

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ The duskwight flinches subtly but he nods.  ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ A tense crease between his eyebrows. “I believe there can be special things; moments, looks, emotions... That can be traded in that first glance that can be then used as buildin’ materials for-... for it. But to really truly have the feelin’ at first? No, impossible. It... It takes work.”  ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “Dalamud. Next?” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Unfortunately, doesn’t everyone?”  ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ Renaux bristles, glancing away. “No.” He’s lying. ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “I have both hugged an’ hugged someone-s in the last week, yes.”  ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ "That I have both found out about an’ inevitably never found out about, yes.”  ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Renaux looks increasingly uncomfortable and doesn’t answer this one, either. Every day. Every time someone uses the L word. Every time someone reaches out for him and he withdraws. Yes.

FIVE CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Both, preferably the latter, thanks.” That gods damned word...  ► Cats or Dogs ➔ "W-what, both. Both?? Obviously both! Don’t be a monster an’ choose one, if both need you, get more space an’ get both!” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ "Both, there’s... A balance. Those you can be yourself with, in comfort, an’ those you can hide within. Many regular friends ask much less personal questions, however...”  ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ ”This is the worst fuckin’-- Both. You suit the needs of the night with the partner, or group! Those needs could vary by the night! Don’t be obtuse an’ only pick one.”  ► Day or night ➔ “Nights. S’... Quiet. There’s more time to yourself, an’ let’s be real, the most interestin’ things happen at night when there’s less eyes~.” 

FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “By a parent? By a partner? By a friend? Yes, to all.”  ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Well unless you’ve got the miraculous grace of a fuckin’ god, who the shite hasn’t?” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Renaux shifts and draws his hands tightly together, fingers squeezing. “... Yes.”  ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “I just leave when that feelin’ happens. It’s like disappearin’, except it’s not permanent for anyone but yourself. You get to choose when you no longer wanna be gone.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ "The eyes. Watch ‘em, not the smile. Smiles lie easier than eyes do.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Ooof, don’t make me choose. Both? I-I’ll go with both. Twelve, don’t let Certo find out...” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ "Attraction. Intelligence is good an’ all but the intelligent folk tend to want to follow code rather than instinct. Attraction is an instinct. Trust it, if only for a moment.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Renaux shakes his head. “I can’t answer that, it varies by the day. Some days it’s comfortin’ to wake up to a relationship, whether partner or close friend, but... Other days it’s just easier to wake up with a hook-up. Again, many less questions an’ expectations.” 

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ "Most of us, the Matron’s kids. I recently... Reconnected with my estranged blood-bonded brother. It’s a work in progress.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ "Not any more messed up than anyone else’s. I handle my shit.” Poorly. ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ "Few dozen times if the home wasn’t good enough. ... Suppose too, even when it was.”  ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔  “Intentionally an’ unintentionally, yea. I was a shithead kid who really didn’t want to be adopted.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “If I secretly hate a friend, they aren’t a fuckin’ friend, are they? I’ve got friends with frustratin’ habits, sure, but fuck’s sake...”  ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “No. Some are closer than others, sure, but... I try not to organize my friends too hard. Some are just more persistent, yea?”  ► Who is your best friend ➔ Renaux balks. His mouth works a moment before he leans back and pinches his chin with a frown. “... I have no fuckin’ idea. Certo I suppose would be the easiest to slot here, but does he really count in this category...? I feel like that’s cheatin’.”  ► Who knows everything about you ➔ Renaux shifts and stands to leave. "... No one. Let’s keep it that way.”

Tagged fucking forever ago by @subetei-noykin  Tagging: Christ whoever didn’t get it the first time. Tag me back! 

[queeniewritesce]

Shall We Dance 7/?

Chris woke around 8 am, alone in bed and for a moment he panicked, thinking Lucy never actually came home with him last night. A look around the room revealed her suitcase and a large soft luggage bag neatly stacked near his closet, her purse on the nearby chair. The pillow he was hugging still smelled like her shampoo and he smiled at the memory of them showering together and how he had insisted on washing her hair, his hands working the long strands into different hairstyles while she laughed at his portray of a flamboyant hairdresser.

They’d arrived home around 8 pm after Garret read him the riot act while Lucy gathered her stuff. He’d better not fuck this up, was he sure he wanted to pursue this? Otherwise he better end their date right there.

Date. Chris scoffed at the word. He was sure Lucy still didn’t know the meeting at the game was a set-up arranged by her sister and his best friend; a blind date where only one of them knew they were on a date at all. Penny insisted Lucy wouldn’t come if she were to tell her and it was up to Chris to make the move.

Ever since he wrapped Gifted and came back home complaining he had had enough of the Hollywood dating scene, Penny redoubled her efforts to get Chris and Lucy together. “She’s the sweetest girl, Chris, always there with a smile when I was hurt. She was the first to organize a fundraising and collecting food and clothes after the Mitchell’s house fire. She’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know and they abused her trust. She’s been hurt pretty and she’s afraid of trying again. I believe you can change that.” Penny said over pizza one day. Chris had his doubts, not sure if he was ready to deal with so much baggage. “Would you date her?” Chris asked Garret over beers, “She’s fragile man but she’s a special girl. Hell yes, I’d date her. She’s wicked smart, sassy as hell and can make you laugh like a lunatic plus, she’s built like a fifties pin-up girl, all tits, ass, and thighs. You keep saying you want something real, here’s your chance at it.”

So Chris agreed to the date, picking a football game for their first meeting, a common ground where both could still enjoy themselves if the chemistry wasn’t there. Except they hit it off so good that any plans of taking her out for dinner so they could get to know each flew out of the window and now he was working backward to convince her she was more than a one-night stand.

The moment he left the bedroom Chris could hear Lucy singing downstairs. She wasn’t going to win any Grammys but she wasn’t bad either. He made his way downstairs carefully as to not alert her of his presence.

He stopped just before reaching the bottom, watching as Lucy belted the lyrics to an old pop song into a wooden spoon, moving around the kitchen with her eyes closed during the chorus. He watched as she opened and closed his cabinets, a quiet yay reaching his ears when she found a glass bowl, bringing the bowl with her back to the counter where eggs, cheese, sliced potatoes, and condiments all waited. And since when did he own a cast iron pan?

Lucy sang and danced while she mixed the ingredients, pouring them into the hot pan, her oversized nightshirt hanging loosely on her shoulders, purplish marks dotting her neck. He’d never been one to leave them before but with her he was a man possessed, staking a claim so everyone could see she belonged with him. A twinge of jealousy hit him at the thought of a man getting closer enough to look at her neck.

Chris knew it was probably too early to feel that way but he wasn’t concerned with a timetable any more. He’d been infatuated with the idea of her for the past month and the reality turned out to be so much better. Their time at the museum yesterday had been fantastic, no awkward silences, no lulls in the conversation. He hanged into her every word, committing to memory every like and dislike she shared, wanting to know everything about the firecracker redhead who danced her way into his life.

He leaned against the fridge, crossing his arms.

“Is there a cover fee for the show or is it included with breakfast?”

“That depends, what kind of payment are we talking about?” Lucy smiled brightly at him, rinsing her hands.

“I can think of a few ways. I’m also known for being a very generous tipper.”

Chris walked over to her, picking up a napkin and drying each individual finger before bringing her hands over his neck, leaning down to gently kiss her.

“Top o' the mornin' to ya, little lady.” He smiled at her when their lips separated, tipping an imaginary hat at her.

“Mornin’ sir,” she giggled and did a little curtsy. “Give it 25 minutes and you’ll eat the best Spanish omelet of your life.”

“I’m starving so it better be good.” Chris challenged, letting go of her to fill Dodger’s food and water bowl.

“Of your life.” She pointed the wood spoon at his retrieving back.

“That’s a very tall order little lady, I’ve been alive for quite some time.”

“Except that, I’m older than you.” She reminded Chris while she brought the coffee pot and the juice jar to the small breakfast table by the window.

“You know what that makes you, right?” He called back to her, already on his way back from the laundry room.

“What?” She moved back to the counter, checking on the food on the stovetop, turning it off and moving the pan to the oven.

“A cougar.” He said was behind her, hands circling her waist and bringing her body close to his, his lips closing on the pulse point on her neck and effectively ending the protest on her lips. “A very fine,” kiss, “gorgeous,” bite, “beautiful cougar.”

He sucked the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder, leaving yet another mark.

“Keep that up and I’ll need a scarf inside the house when I get to my parent’s,” she made no movement to stop him, hands resting over his.

“You have a very biteable neck.” Chris kissed the same spot again just to prove a point and she giggled. “I’ll try to curb my inner vampire.”

“Your inner vampire is quite welcome to other places where I can better hide the evidence.” Lucy looked back up to him, a hint of mischievousness in her voice.

His hands immediately moved to cup her breasts over her shirt. “Oh, you mean here?”

“Uhm… or here.” Lucy’s hand gently guided him to the inside of her thighs.

“Your idea is so much better than mine.” Chris turned her around and his mouth immediately found hers in a powerful and possessive kiss.

He was rapidly becoming addicted to her mouth, her lips moving like fine silk on his, tongue searching for him, a delirious chase he couldn’t get enough of. He heard her moan against his mouth and it stoked the fire already burning inside of him.

Chris’ strong hands clutched Lucy’s waist, bringing her closer to his body and in a swift movement he lifted and dropped her at the counter, her body bouncing when she landed.

“Are you crazy, you could throw your back or someth…”

His lips quickly silenced her words and he nipped at her for good measure when they separated.

“I can bench press over 300 pounds Lucy, and you weigh what, a bit more than half that? Let me worry about what I can and I can’t handle,” his hands slid up her thighs till he finds the white lace cheeky panties she wore, thumbs hooking around the lace and pulling them down as he whispered in her ear. “I love how my hands are full of you when I run them up your thighs, when I grab your ass, how your breasts feel heavy on my hands… and just so you know I’d love to fuck them.”

A strangled moan escaped her at his words and she reached for his sweatpants, pushing them down, needing the contact, craving the feel of him. He rocked his hips on her, the head of his cock right on top of her clit, his bare length sliding up and down over her small lips, coating himself in her juices. “I want you inside me, Chris.”

“Shhh, I’m not finished. Trivia time. Did you know I had a crush on Jessica Rabbit the first time I saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” Chris unbuttons her shirt, bottom to top, slowly unwrapping her like a present, thrusting against her with each new inch of skin he reveals, her moans spurring him on. “To my twelve-year-old self, she was the hottest woman I’d ever seen, who cares if she was a cartoon. It was the first time I actively jerked off.” He parted the sides of her nightgown, exposing her breast and he licks his lips at the sight of her naked chest. His hands tangle in her hair bringing the red strands around her left shoulder. Her eyes are blown, pupils dilated, almost no green left and he thinks she looked like a fucking goddess at that moment. He stood between her legs, his nose skimming the pulse point on her neck, lips following suit, before stepping back, making her pout for the lack of contact. “God, look at you, my personal Jessica Rabbit, pouty lips and all, my fucking wet dream coming true, sinful curves and deliciously naked.”

“Then come here and fuck your Rabbit,” she pulled him back, mouths clashing, tongues dancing together. Her hands roamed over the taut muscles of his arms, tracing the veins and kneading the flesh of his shoulders, fingertips caressing the nape of his neck with one hand while the other danced on the planes of his chest, following the trail of hair that led to his cock.

Lucy planted open-mouthed kisses on his chest, gently biting his right nipple, sucking the small hard nub in her mouth, enthralled by the sounds he made.

“Fuck, do that again,” Chris asked in a low voice and she smiled against his chest, moving to the other side. She flattened her tongue against his nipple before closing her mouth against it, teeth rasping the pebbled skin and sucking hard and at the same time that she closed her hand over him, dragging her fingers over the crown in slow but precise motions. A guttural moan rocked his body and he thrust hard against her hand, pre-come leaking from the bulbous head.

“How did you like it?” Lucy grinned up to him, hand fisting over his shaft as she licked around the tattoo on his ribcage.

“That… god, don’t tease,” he faltered when her fingers squeezed around him, both hands working in a precise rhythm. “That’s definitely going into the pro column.”

Her laugh is cut short when he pulls her hair back, covering her mouth with his. Their kisses became long and slow, fueled by their moans, tongues sinfully dancing together as hands travel everywhere; caressing her boobs, touching his ass, tangled in her hair, gripping his waist.

“Lay back on your arms.” Chris nudges her back with a soft touch and she obeys, releasing his shaft and arranging herself on the black marble. Fingers and mouth working together, he traces a pattern over her body, stroking over her collarbone, rolling her nipples between expert fingers, dipping his tongue on her belly button. He nips at the small curve of her belly, biting and bruising the skin and smirks at her. “No one will see this one, right?”

“Considering it’s not exactly swimming weather outside, I don’t think so,” she smiled and shook her head.

“Good,” he rubbed his bearded face on her inner thighs. “I’m not finished though.”

Warm open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thighs left her panting and pleading for more.

“Use your words, Lucy.” His warm breath tickled her lips, making her squirm.

“Don’t tease me like that.” Wild eyes glanced down, “I want your mouth on me. Now.”

“Yes, madam.” The feel of his silky tongue made her whole body undulate, a loud gasp echoing in the large room as he bathed her in slow and sure motions. He gave her a wicked grin before his lips closed on her clit, tongue swirling on the taut nerve and her hips lifted, legs jumping wildly. He hooked her left leg over his shoulder for anchorage, grasping the curve of her hips to keep her from moving and her small hand covered his, fingers tangling together. Chris smiled, eyes framed by long eyelashes looking up to her, loving to watch her surrender under his touch. He was lost to the scent of her, the sweet and tangy aroma filling his lungs.

“Chris.” A gasp escaped her swollen lips, eyes fluttering close with each pass of his tongue, shallow breaths, and a racing heart.

“God, you’re beautiful,” His mouth barely leaves her to whisper his adoration. “Are you ready for more baby?”

Two fingers sank into her, scissoring and curling against her walls. He devoured her, lips and tongue working her clit, fingers hooked inside her, rubbing that sweet spot inside her over and over. Her hips thrust wildly upward, incomprehensible cries falling from her lips when he sped up his motions, humming his praise, the vibrations on causing the most delicious electric sparks making her legs writhe and sending her dangerously close to the edge.

Her body grew taut, goosebumps spreading all over and he felt her clenching his fingers, fingernails leaving small crescent shapes on the back of his hand before releasing his hand and threading them around his hair, keeping him where she needed the most.

“So close, oh god, I need… close.”

His teeth scraped her clit and it’s her undoing. Lucy cried out to him, tremors rocking her, legs quivering as he continued to touch her, transforming her orgasm in an ongoing sensation that washed over her back and forth every time his tongues her clit, fingers still moving inside her now with a renewed fervor.

“Give one more baby, I know you have it in you.” Another pair of fingers made contact with her clit, rubbing it in a maddening pace as he kisses her inner thighs, bruising the skin with his teeth. He slipped his fingers from inside her pussy, digits coated in her cum, and moved them lower, pressing them lightly against her puckered hole, making contact hard enough to let her know he’s there. His tongue enters her, lapping up the escaping slick as his index fingers breached the impossibly tight hole.

“Chris, oh god, oh f…” a second wave hit her and her arm gave out, spasm taking over her body and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the fire never ending, the darkness threatening to take over.

She pushed him away, her body spent as she laid on the counter, breathing heavily.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous when you cum,” Chris' eyes were zeroed on hers with a smug smile on his face, fingers slowly caressing the skin of her hips. “Are you alright?”

“Give me a moment, I’m not sure I’m alive,” Lucy closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath, the sound of his laugh making her smile. “Yep, I’m alive.”

Chris pulled her up and her hands immediately gravitated to his face, bringing him close, kissing his shiny lips, thumbing the moisture on his mustache and bringing it to her mouth, her tongue making a show of licking the digit clean, groaning at the taste of herself on him. He moaned and rocked himself against her core, callused hands curling on the skin of her bottom.

“You know,” Lucy nuzzled his neck, kissing the smooth skin, her nose pressed on his beard, “I’ve never let anyone back there before.”

“Never?” the whimper is followed by a grunt when she shook her head. “Whenever you’re ready, let me know, I can make you feel so, so good baby.”

“How about I think about it and I get back to you on that.”

There’s a pause before he agreed and dove for her mouth, tongues dueling in a heated kiss, hissing when her hands closed around him, sliding up and down the length with torturous gestures.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” her hands stroked and twisted, creating the perfect amount of pressure that forced him to thrust back searching for more friction. Lucy nibbled his earlobe and murmured, “Get inside me Chris, now.”

It’s a command he’s eager to obey and he brings her closer to the edge of the counter, dragging his cock up her slit, making them both moan.

And then he stopped, looking around for a moment, groaning.

“Shit.”

His low curse made her head pop. “What?”

“I didn’t bring any condoms down with me.”

“Why not?” The disbelief in her voice made him chuckle.

More expletives left his mouth as he opened a few drawers before finally admitting defeat with a shake of his head.

“Well little rabbit, for starters my pants didn’t have any pockets. Plus, I didn’t exactly plan on fucking you on my counter.”

“It’s so sturdy though, it just begs for some action.” She bounces a little, grinning at him.

Chris threw his head back with a laugh, raising both eyebrows at her.

“You’re using me for my kitchen, aren’t you?”

“Damn, I’ve been found,” she snapped her fingers with a mocking frown.

“Come on woman, let’s go upstairs before…”

The oven pinged, signaling the food was ready.

“That.” Chris dropped his head on her shoulder while Lucy tried to contain her mirth, certain he would not appreciate her laughing right now.

“You know,” Lucy glanced from the oven back to him, fingers dancing between the hairs of his chest. “I’m alright with re-heated food if you are.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” He promptly hoisted her out of the counter, pausing just long enough to pick up his pants from the floor, just to look up and see her running up the stairs.

Lucy stopped on the middle step, shedding her shirt, calling out to him with her fingers. She squeaked and ran when Chris started after her, taking the steps two at a time, catching up to her right by his bedroom door, caging her body with his.

“Gotcha.” Her whole skin prickled with his whisper and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped when he bit her earlobe, tugging on the flesh. The feel of him rocking against her as he kissed the back of her neck reduced her to a quivering mess as he opened the door, directing her to the recently made bed.

Spinning in his arms, she kissed him hard, forcing his body toward the bed. “Lay down, keep your hands above your head.”

“Bossy, bossy,” Chris kissed her before laying down, making a show of shaking his ass at her, which earned him a playful swat. “Careful with the merchandise woman.”

Lucy giggle-snorted, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’ll handle all the packages with care.”

“See that you do.” He winked and got comfortable, holding onto the pillow under his head, licking his lips when she crawled over him, kneeling between his legs.

Her lips brushed over his brow, nose, and cheeks before touching his mouth, a pink tongue tracing his pouty lips. They kissed with their eyes open, Chris trying to follow her every time she retreated, only to kiss him again when his head hit the pillow with a growl.

“Don’t be mean. I love kissing you.”

Her eyes crinkled, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The next time she didn’t pull back, her tongue tangling with his, lips synced in a slow and sensuous dance, making his body buckle when she sucked his tongue, knuckles white from clutching the pillow.

She teased his neck, caressing the pulse point with her tongue, working her way down his body and Chris felt like fire wafted over his skin with each touch. Stopping over his dusky nipples, she replayed the earlier actions, this time with more teeth and Chris decided the move deserved a whole new column titled ‘fucking brilliant’.  

The hard muscles of his abdomen twitched when her teeth made contact, and she soothed him with butterfly kisses over the tattoo on his lower rib cage. The first dip of her tongue into his belly button bucked his hips, the anticipation consuming him as she licked over the thick line of hair connecting to the base of his cock, her nose nuzzling the velvet skin that rested over his lower abdomen.

“Lucy…”

“Patience Chris.”

He didn’t have to wait long, a hitched breath meeting the first touch of her tongue on the underside of his erection. She tempted him with one long lick before enveloping the head with her lips, tonguing the slit and tasting the drops of his salty pre-come already there.

An ache formed deep in his belly when her hands closed around him, pumping up and down the thick member, a thumb pressing the vein on the underside with every downward stroke. She cupped his balls as her mouth descended on him, sucking him slowly into her mouth, working her way down.

Chris wanted so badly to touch her, to run his hands everywhere while she claimed him, but he was good with following orders. “God, you’re killing me, Lucy, such a pretty and talented mouth you have, fuck, so good around my cock.” He heard and felt her moaning around him, the humming adding to his pleasure, and when she hollowed her cheeks and took him all the way he cursed loudly, body shaking. “Please, please let me touch you gorgeous.”

She let him go with a pop, swirling her tongue around the weeping head, flattening her tongue and dragging over his frenulum, wanton eyes, dark and needy, never leaving him when she nodded and took him back into her mouth, her lips sinking until he could feel the back of her throat, grunting and fighting the urge to thrust up. He ran his hands over her shoulders, gentle fingers cupping her cheek while she engulfed him, her nose pressed to the trimmed hairs of his groin.

His labored breaths were cut by deep moans, pleasure cursing through this body.

“I’m not gonna last, baby.”

His hands now played with her hair, gathering it to a side, holding it atop of her head and finally settling with tangling it all in a ponytail so he could watch what her as she worked to bring him to climax. The need to thrust became unbearable, a scorching heat consuming and overwhelming his senses.

“Let it go, Chris,” she enticed him and he surrendered, plunging against her mouth, marveling at the feeling of her silky tongue working over him when he retreated.

Sheer pleasure consumed him, the ache in his belly spreading all over him and he barely had time to warm her of his impending climax. Lucy paid him no mind, lips tight around his cock while two fingers pressed down on the perineum and he lost it, swelling and coating the inside of her mouth, hands tight on her hair to keep her from moving.

She swallowed and he groaned loudly, curses and moans mixed together while he sang her praises, calling her name over and over. Chris twitched when Lucy licked him clean, letting him go with a final pat to the head of his cock. A smile played on her lips as she gave him a small kiss at the corner of his lips before resting her head on the nook of his neck.

Chris was quiet for a moment before he let out a whistle.

“Damn.”

Her body shook with contained laughter.

“That good, huh?” Lucy drew small patterns on his chest and he rejoiced in the feeling of being so close to her.

“Fuck yes.” He slowly kissed her, his tongue exploring the swollen lips. A small peck to her nose and he released her.

A blissful silence fell over them, his hands combing the long locks as she did the same to his beard. They stayed like that for some time, until Chris spoke again.

“Do you have the number for The New York Times?” He asked with a serious expression.

“What would you need it for?” Lucy side-eyed Chris.

“I want to take out an ad and tell all those fools in New York City how incredibly stupid they are for passing you over. Or I might do a full-page “thank you” for the exact same reason, I’m still undecided.” He twisted them both till she was laying on top of him, taking the opportunity to run his hands over her ribcage, waist and finally resting both hands on her bottom, holding them loosely over her flesh.

“All of this over a good blowjob?” She chuckled and adjusted herself so her pussy hovered over his hardening cock.

He shook his head and poked her on the side.

“Excuse me, but being on the receiving end of said blowjob I think you meant fantastic. Curl your toes and scream yourself hoarse fantastic,” he is delighted when a blush covered not only the face but her breasts as well. He licked his lips and bucked against her, “Yeah, I’m definitely thanking them.”

“Your recovering time is quite a feat, Chris.” Her hips rocked slowly against him and Lucy left a small sigh when her clit rubbed on the veiny member.

He tightened his hold on her buttocks as she danced wantonly over him, dragging herself across the hard member.

“I am… Captain America after all.” A shallow moan followed another thrust and he grabbed the condom next to the pillow, ripping the package and handing it to her.

“Isn’t the poor the guy a virgin though? Did the whole beefcake flavored popsicle thing before he could get the girl?” Lucy scooted back just enough to free him from under her, spreading the wetness she left on his throbbing cock before rolling the latex down.

He bent her down by her shoulders, bracing one arm around her waist while the other holds her close, hands gripping her neck.

“I’m gonna pretend you just didn’t call Cap a virgin beefcake flavored popsicle, alright?” He preened when she giggled and it occurred to him how much time had passed since sex was this poignant and so carefree at the same time. Lucy brought a whole new game to the table; sexy, fun, extremely hot and addictive, just like her.

He ran his nose on the thick vein there, kissing up to her ear, nibbling on the flesh. “Can I fuck you now little rabbit?”

God how he loved how he could make her body flush and shiver with just a few words. Chris' lips covered hers in a scorching kiss, tongues clashing before Lucy righted her body and positioned herself over him.

“I believe,” she hissed as Chris pinched her nipples, “I believe I’m the one doing the fucking now.”

Hungry eyes met as she eased down on him, never breaking eye contact till she is flushed on his lap, throwing her head back with a lustful moan.

“God Chris, I’m so full of you.” She stilled for a moment, getting used to the sensation.

“You’re so tight baby, I can feel every bit of your pussy hugging me.” He moaned breathily when she squeezed him, hands flying to her thighs and rear. “You gonna wreck me just by doing that and then you won’t get to cum.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?” Lucy rolled her hips in a slow movement, keeping most of his cock inside her as she rocked side to side, smiling provocatively at the groans coming from Chris.

Hands sprawled over his large chest as leverage, Lucy impressed a hard pace, pulling all the way up and slamming back down with slow circles that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, the head of Chris’ cock hitting her g-spot with every downward movement.

Holding the soft flesh on the back of her thighs, Chris met her thrusts with his own, grinding her down on his pelvis. He shifted so his feet were flat against the mattress, starting a pattern of quick and shallow thrusts that made Lucy drop her head to her heaving chest, her hair falling around them like a curtain as her hands clang to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the muscles, moaning and sobbing.

Walls clenching around him, he could sense that she was close, her mouth forming a delicate o shape, eyes closed in ecstasy. Every nerve ending is alive and bursting with energy, all connected to the spot where his cock entered her and she gasped, air heavily leaving her lungs when waves of pleasure crashed into her, chants of his name is like a song to his ears.

“God, Chris!” She screamed his name, dropping to kiss him, her tongue sweeping over his. “Fuck, you make me feel so good.”

Drawing circles up here sides, he held her closer, fingers flexing in her waist.

“Rabbit, we’re barely getting started. On your back.” Chris grunted as he lifted her, her juices making his cock glisten. “Fuck, look at that…”

He touched her slick clit when she settled on her back, making her shudder, aftershocks rocking her body with a strangled moan.

“Fucking gorgeous. Your body was made for me, to love it, to worship it. I’m gonna fuck you so good baby.” He got on his knees, bringing her hips level with his, propping her ass up with a discarded pillow.

“Chris, please. I need you.”

The air is charged with the faint aroma of sex as Chris hovers over her. The caveman inside his brain growled with the need to possess her, make her theirs.

“You need my cock? You need me to pound you and make you forget your own name?” His voice is hoarse with lust, eyes blown. He brought her legs up, resting her feet on his shoulders, his member nested on her folds.  “I can do that rabbit, I’ll fuck you raw, ruin you for anyone else but me. Do you want that?”

He rocks against her, the crown of his shaft sliding over her clit and she keens, a high-pitched sound that snaps something inside him. He enters her roughly, bottoming out on the first thrust, establishing a hard pace. His moans echo around the room when he sees her holding her breasts, pinching her erect nipples.

“I want that, yes, I want you. Fuck me, Chris, yes, yes.” Wanton eyes look over at him and he almost lost it, driving into her with and making the headboard hit the wall in a staccato of thrusts.

One of her legs fell to the side when he let it go and it curled around his knees, keeping his vision unobstructed. Watching his cock disappear inside her is a glorious sight and Chris can barely tear his eyes away to look up, but he was glad he did. Lucy had her arms above her, head thrown to the side, eyes closed and her teeth are dug so hard into her lips he swore she would draw blood at any moment. Her labored breath and moans follow the rhythm of his hips and once in a while she would let a loud wail when he hit that perfect spot inside her.

The goosebumps are back, his brows furrowed and he had to fight to keep his eyes open, the pleasure coursing through him is too much.

“Eyes on me Lucy.” Chris told her in a slow growl and smiled when dark green orbs focus on him. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world. I can feel you’re close baby, cum for me.”

A thumb is pressed to her clit, rubbing small circles on the hardened nub, propelling her to the end. Lucy gripped the sheets, back bowing from the mattress, calling for him as her body convulsed.

His own release is there, his powerful thighs clenching as his hips still, her name on his lips, a powerful climax washing over him.

Breathing heavily, Chris laid down on top of her, holding himself up in his forearms, searching her face only to find her smiling at him, a lazy grin that made his heart flutter.

“That was…” slender fingers pushed the sweaty hair out of his forehead and Lucy kissed his cheek, lips lingered on the scruff.

“Intense? Incredible? Impeccable? Impressive? Illegal?” Chris would have continued but her clasped hand in front of his mouth stopped him.

“Illegal?” Lucy laughed.

He licked her palm and she yelped, removing it quickly and giving him a dirty look. He grinned.

“I’m sure it is somewhere, you were pretty loud after all.”

He rolled over from her, leaving the bed to deal with the condom.

“And whose fault is that Mister Dirty Talk Extraordinaire?” She called after him.

“You think I’m gonna feel guilty about making you scream my name?” He gave her a skeptical look as he came back with a damp hand towel, running it carefully over her.

“Incorrigible. There’s another one for you.” She stretched and Chris drank on her body. The sight of her naked and pliable in his bed was now ranked top ten in the list of his favorite things.

"Okay, let's play a game." Chris reclined on the headboard with his legs sprawled on the bed, white sheets covering his lower body. Lucy was on her stomach next to him, hands resting on her chin, feet up and crossed at the ankles, her naked form enticing him. His eyes followed the curves of her back, stopping to admire the tattoo that covered most of her right side, back dipping to form her waist before coming back up to the most amazing ass he'd ever seem, and yes, he had seen more than most men. He needed a distraction otherwise he'd pounce on her again. "Two truths, one lie." When she looked at him quizzically, he explained, "We each tell the other two truths about ourselves and make up a lie, a believable one. The other person has to guess what the lie is."

"What do we get if we get the lie right?" she rearranged herself on the bed and he groaned when the movements gave him a better look of her breasts. She caught the look on his eyes and smirked, wagging a finger at him. "Bad Chris, stay down boy. Stopping ogling the girls." She giggled, looking around, finally grabbing a pillow that had been pushed to the edge of the bed and using it as a cover.

"You've turned me into a fiend, it's your own sexy fault." He pouted when the pillow obstructed the view and he drew a breath to try and clear his mind. A sly smile graced his face, he knew exactly what to bet on. "How about this, three rounds. Winner gets to pick and plan a future date, loser can't say no to the date no matter what the plan is.”

Her eyes got big when she understood exactly what that meant. Yeah baby, you’re not escaping so easily from me.

“And I can plan any date I like? Picnic, fly a kite, bungee-jumping?” she licked her lips, wide-eyed with all the possibilities but then hesitated, “Are you even allowed to bungee-jump? I mean, don’t you signed a contract stating you must look pretty and can’t do anything that might break a bone and halt productions?”

Chris threw his head back in laughter, this girl was amazing, so open and earnest, with no agenda, just a gorgeous girl genuinely interested in him.

“Kevin might have a problem with the last one, but sure, whatever you plan.” He admitted, enthralled by the possibilities. A B&B on a vineyard near the coast where they could spend the whole day naked and tangled in each other, only coming out to see the sun setting and to find a small restaurant to eat. A cabin in the woods, lots of pillows scattered around the floor in front of a crackling fireplace. A four-day weekend in Italy, sightseeing near Verona and Genova, drinking wine and holding hands without anyone bothering them. Any of the scenarios had amazing appeal, he just needed to make sure he’d have a chance to make them come to life.

“Fine, let's play,” she grinned. “You’re going skinny dipping at Otsego Lake, just so you know.”

“Is that supposed to scare me? I’d love to go skinny dipping with you.” Chris waggled his eyebrow at her. “Here's an easy one; I played quarterback in high school and we were county champions. My favorite color is blue but sky blue, like on a summer day. I once fooled my brother into peeing his own pants in front of our nanny."

"Leave it to you to describe a color like you’re in the middle of a romcom. That’s one truth." She smiled when he nodded. "Uhm. You're crazy about football and golly, could you ever be so mean? Yikes. But then again, you were banned from the museum…" She tapped her fingers to her mouth. "Nah, you would’ve told me that yesterday, so that’s the lie, no one is that mean."

He made a horn-like sound, shouting "WRONG!"

“What! Oh my god, you’re a terrible person Christopher,” her mouth drops in disbelief. “Your poor, poor brother!”

“I truly was the worst brother ever when it came to pranks.” He had a smirk on his face

“Remind me to never go on a prank war with you, Mr. Evans. And here I am imagining you’re star quarterback, getting all cozy with the head cheerleader and being crowned Prom King.”

“As if. I was the scrawny kid from Drama Class, joined the lacrosse team to kiss up to dad. I was actually dumped at prom!” At her incredulous face, he laughed. “It’s true, we’re at this party and she said I was too immature and deluded if I thought the acting gig would pay off. But I did get ‘Most Likely to Die Doing Something Stupid’.”

“Oh, she must hate herself right about now.” Lucy chuckled. “Have you ever saw her again after that?”

“Not personally, but she works at Lincoln-Sudbury High, Carly has told me she gloats that I took her to prom and never mentions that she left me alone to cry in my neighbor’s front lawn.”

“The cheekiness of the woman! Next time you do an interview, rattle her out, let’s see how she feels about that.”

Chris loved that she feels indignant on his behalf.

“Okay, your turn little lady.”

“Let’s see. I’m ambidextrous, my handwriting looks exactly the same no matter which hand I use.  I was once part of a girl band named The Fantastic Four, no correlation to your movie at all. I’m terrified of clowns to the point of hyperventilating.”

The grin on his face was almost maniacal. “I can’t wait to plan our date.”

She eyed him with distrust. “No way you know it that easily.”

“What, you think I don’t know you usurped the girl band story from Penny?”

Her mouth dropped. “NO! How could you know that?”

“It’s actually pure dumb luck and the fact that I have a great memory.” He confessed. “A bunch of us went to Mayfair at Harvard Square back in May and they had a food truck called The Fantastic Flour. I tried my best to ignore the jokes and steered clear of the place. Penny, on the other hand, insisted it was destiny and told us about her garage band. For some reason, it stuck with me.”

“You’re no fun!” She complained with a smile. “That was my best fake story, I can’t bluff to save my life!”

“You must suck at poker then,” Chris smirked. “Next time we’re playing strip-poker.”

She laughed long and hard before he pounced on her, throwing the pillow she was using to cover herself to the side of the bed and dragging her naked body on top of his, tickling her sides. They tumbled around in the bed, sharing a long kiss and Chris saw the moment her pupils dilated. God, he wanted to have her again, she was an addiction he could freely partake in but now wasn’t the time. No, there are things that need to be discussed, they couldn’t spend these few hours fucking each other, as lovely as that thought was.

“How about we go see if that omelet is still warm enough?” He helped her up from the bed, giving her a terry cloth robe that was way to bigger for her and put it on another one.

“Thank you for coming back home with me last night. I’ve had more fun in the past two days than most of this past year.” He hugged her after tying a loose knot on the robe.

“Thank you for asking me to come back.” She cupped his cheek and stroked his beard. “I really liked spending time with you, Chris. Us meeting was the highlight of a somewhat insipid year.”

A deer in headlights. That was most likely the look he sported now. He knew this conversation was coming, but still, he dreaded it.

“Uhm. About that. We need to talk.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

One cold Spanish Omelet and three cups of coffee later, Chris and Lucy sat on the family room sofa. He lounged lazily on the chase with Lucy laying down across him, her head on his lap. His phone was docked on the side table, Christmas music coming from hidden speakers around the living room, Chris had turned on the lights of his Christmas tree and the twinkling lights played around them.

“Are you sure you’re okay about the whole blind date thing?” Chris inquired, slowly combing her hair, a small gesture he was learning she loved and he enjoyed doing it for her.

“Do I still want to kill Penny? Sure do. I might push her from our dock into the frozen waters of Otsego lake at least once while we’re back home but I know her heart was in the right place. She was right, I wouldn’t have come if she told me.”

“And why not? Was the idea of meeting me that bad?”

“Of course not.” Lucy cradled the hand that rested on her belly but didn’t look up at him. “I have a less than stellar record with men and although these past years have been rather lonely, I welcomed it, it was better than putting myself out there just to get shot down again. I didn’t bother looking and I got rather creative at avoiding my friends meddling in my non-existent love life. They tried to set me up with people before, Terry even asked me if I had changed sides, and the next time we hung out he introduced me to Lauren and hightailed out of there.”

“Oh?” He pulled on her hair, bringing her eyes to his. “So, you and Lauren…”

“Get your mind out of the gutter Christopher, nothing happened. She’s a lovely girl, but I’m not bi. We had a few drinks, plotted to kill Terry and parted ways as good friends. She’s married now, her wife is pregnant. It’s a little boy by the way.” Lucy fetched her phone from the coffee table and opened Instagram, showing him a post about a week old.

“Lauren is the brunette?” She nodded and Chris looked at another picture. “Well damn.”

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, sorry baby, I’m a man after all.” He gave her a very unapologetic grin when she snatched the phone out of his hand. His eyes searched hers and he was serious when he spoke. “I’m sorry you had such terrible experiences with dating before. But I’m glad you decided to come to Boston.”

She smiled radiantly at him.

“Me too.”

They were silent but for Sinatra singing about a white Christmas and Dean Martin crying about letting it snow. Well, he had gotten his wish about half an hour ago, the streets were once again covered in white fluff, thick flocks hitting the large windows panels.

“I have a really important question for you,” Chris said, stopping the slow massage of her scalp.

“Oh… Okay?” Lucy studied his face, looking for a clue of what that question could be.

“Have you seen the ring?” He questioned with a serious expression.

“What? Oh, the ring! No, Garret wouldn’t show it to me! It’s on my travel bag and I’m not even allowed to look at it. He actually used that word.” She huffed.

“Can you believe he wouldn’t show it to me? I’m his best friend, I should at least get a peak before the big day.” Chris trailed off. “Okay, maybe not, but I’m so curious, he wouldn’t tell me anything besides it’s from Tiffany.”

“He asked me about Penny’s preferences, so I’m guessing it might be a gold band with a central round diamond in a solitaire style, but Garret would not confirm even that for me. I know he wants Penny to see it before anyone else but come on, gimme the deets, brah!” They laughed together and Chris ribbed her for her terrible Boston accent.

“Garret’s my best friend. He’s been there for me since my first year of high school, he believed in me when I didn’t.” His forehead creased. “She’ll say yes, right? I mean, you’re her sister, you must know whether Penny might say yes or no.”

“Do I know she’ll say yes?” Lucy lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.  “I mean, I can’t know for sure that a hundred percent Chris, but she’s absolutely and irrevocably in love with Garret since maybe their second date. She called me after he dropped her off and we spent two hours talking, which basically consisted of Penny praising Garret from his eyes to the way he would treat the staff at the restaurant.” Happiness swelled within her when she remembered how excited Penny sounded on the phone. I’m gonna marry him someday babyboo, I just know that. “Do I believe she won’t let him finish the proposal before she starts screaming yes? Absolutely!”

Chris massaged the back of his neck.

“God, you scared me for half a second.” Chris chuckled before continuing. “He was insufferable during the first few months. We’re all over Europe to promote the first Avengers and I asked both him and Guillermo to come with me, so they could keep me company and I wouldn’t be so strung out with anxiety. Garret would get up at 2 am whenever we were so he could call Penny when she got back from work, or she would call him at 5 am her time while we’re pausing for lunch. I told Garret to fly her to Paris so they could meet, impress her with a date on a café near the Eiffel Tower and she said no, that they weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. That’s when I knew Penny would be perfect for Garret, she wasn’t easily impressed by what his money could buy her. He told me once her favorite type of date included coffee and sitting on a park bench watching their dogs play.”

“Dad made a point to always impart on us that you shouldn’t measure a person by their wealth but on how well they treat those who do not share it,” Lucy told him. “It’s so easy to become jaded and lose perspective of how to be a decent human being when you don’t know what it is to struggle to make ends meet.”

“Can I ask you something?” the twinkly lights were playing tricks with her hair, the bright shades of red tangling from Chris' fingers. He paused to rearrange the strands falling over her eyes, carefully tucking it behind her ears. “I don’t want you to think I’m a conceited prick or that my ego needs its own zip code or something but aside from that the various quips about my acting, you never once mentioned me being, well, me.”

“And you wanted me to?” Lucy had a hand softly stroking Dodger’s auburn coat while the pooch lay on the floor next to them, his head rolling back and forth after her hand. Her eyes focused on his, studying him. “Did you want me to fangirl and be all over the great Chris Evans, Actor?”

“No. Must definitely not.” His left hand grabbed hers and brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing her knuckles, drawing in a breath. “It got harder to make friends or date people outside the industry since Captain America. I knew that would happen, but it sucks sometimes you know? I really don’t like dating actress but… it’s easier, less messy if you will.”

“Garret once commented you got really good at smelling fakers.” Lucy sat back up and faced Chris, pulling her legs close to her chest, head resting on her knees.

“Yeah. It’s a skill you need to hone very quickly otherwise you’ll live in a world full of people trying to blow smoke up your ass to get something from you. You see this person you want to interact with, be it a girl you wanna hook up with or this dude who talks beer and artisanal cheese and maybe could be a friend, you know, and you approach them, you wanna get to know them, but the minute they see the actor, Chris disappears and Chris Evans, must take his place. That had been my life up to two nights ago. Then you appear and while you did acknowledge the actor, you brushed past him and went straight to Chris.” He got a hold of her hand before continuing, “We met and didn’t talk much before we were all over each other, and can you really blame me for that? ‘Cuz look at you… But when we did talk, you busted my chops about football, you weren’t afraid to tell me to shut up when I needed to, and I fucking loved that, it’s been a while since a girl called me on my shit.”

She held her right hand over her heart and raised the left one, “I, Lucy Seabrook, hereby promise to always call you on your shit.”

“Always, huh? That sounds awful like you’d want to spend more time with me.”

“I do. I’ve been smitten with you for quite some time Chris.” At his puzzled face, she continued. “Although I’ve never come to visit Penny in Boston, she’s been plenty of times to New York. At first, she’d come with a couple of friends, or we’d get together with my friends and consume a lot of alcohol and enjoy a hell of a good time. And one day instead of a couple of girlfriends, she brought Garret. Just a friend, you know, nothing to see here, she said that shit every other phone call, but I knew better. Anyways, Garret had this friend, Chris. And Chris is the coolest guy on the planet; they went snowboarding, they went to Walt Disney World with his family, they went to Vegas and had a hell of good time… Chris couldn’t be around much, but he was a bro like no other. Garret respects and admires you like a true brother by the way.”

“It’s mutual,” Chris crossed his leg and turned to her, waiting.

“So Chris is a constant on your life even though you never met him; he’s now in the stories your sister tells you as well, he helps at Christopher’s Heaven, donates a good chunk of money to the place. Of course, you’ve seen pictures of everyone, and the guy in the left holding a beer or making a face, that’s Chris, such a fun and down to earth guy, such a great outlook on life. And then one day you’re watching Game of Thrones with your sister and her boyfriend, and hey, isn’t that a tv spot from Winter Soldier? The Captain America guy kinda looks like your friend Chris, Gar and OH.” She shook her head sheepishly. “I fell for you before I met you. Not with the actor, but this great guy named Chris, who happens to act and plays Captain Steve Rogers now and then, who’s friends with my sister and her boyfriend. It does help that he’s crazy good in bed and damn, can make me weak on the knees just by kissing my neck.”

“Crazy good in bed, huh?” Cupping her face, he softly kisses her lips, hands coaxing her body towards him. Opening her legs, Lucy straddles Chris’ lap, her shirt riding up to expose her bottom and Chris moans when she rubs against his cock through the thin lace and cotton barriers.

She giggled then, a beautiful sound that made his warmed his whole body. He needed to make sure this was just the first of many, many dates. Chris leaned closer, lips gently brushing hers. He enveloped her small hands with his large ones.

“I live a hectic life.” His eyes turned serious and he saw a look of worry cross her face. “I can be gone for months at times, sometimes with no break at all. I’m an asshole sometimes, scratch that, most of the time. I’m no prize Lucy, but I really, really wanna see you again.”

A smile tucked at the corner of her lips, freeing one hand and running her index finger along his forehead, smoothing a frown line that he didn’t know he sported.

“You might not believe you are blue ribbon material Chris, but it’s part of my job to judge talents when I encounter them and you, my dear, deserve first place in a lot of categories.” The tips of his ears felt hot at her praise. “I’m hard headed and a workaholic, I spend over eighty hours teaching and training and my brother calls me a mule, that’s how stubborn I am. Having said that, I really, really wanna see you again as well.”

Chris let of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a big smile on his face, bringing her close for a hug.

“So, I’m blue ribbon material you say?” he moved back to look at her, raising one eyebrow suggestively and tickling her side. “Can I see the judges notes, please? I need to know what my strengths were and where I need to improve.”

“Stop, stop!” her giggles filled the room and he thought they were the cutest thing. “You’re such a polpetto Chris!”

“I’m a polpetto si, a meatball ah?,” his Italian accent sucked, but she laughed harder when he closed his hands in the traditional Italian gesture and shook them exclaiming, “Dio santo!”

She rested her forehead on his naked chest, a hand coming up to trace his clavicle tattoo.

“Is that all the Italian you know, caro mio?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.” Skilled fingers unbuttoned the shirt she wore, parting the sides to unveil her breasts. His palmed the globes, thumbs skimming the quickly hardening nipples. “We used to pester Uncle Mike for curse words, but he always told us vaffanculo, so that’s the only one I know.”

She planted small kisses on his tattoo, the tip of her tongue tracing the words, fingering his pebbled nipples. “Voglio le tue mani su tutto il corpo e la tua testa fra le gambe. Ti piace cozi?”

“I have no idea what you just said but bring it on baby.” Lucy yelped when his strong hands picked her from his lap and laid her back on the couch, opening her legs with his knees to rest his pelvis against her, a hiss escaping her when his covered cock made contact with her mound. “Bring it on.”

__________________________________________

Notes:

Polpetto – meatball

Dio Santo – oh my god. Use lots of hands gesture when using this one!

Caro mio – my dear, my love

Vaffanculo – up your ass, mostly a light version of fuck you.

Voglio le tue mani su tutto il corpo e la tua testa fra le gambe. Ti piace cozi? – I want your hands all over my body and your head between my legs. Would you like that?

______________________________________ TAG LIST:

@patzammit, @holyground1996, @imaginesofdreams

[thelastspeecher]

I can’t think up a title for this thing that I wrote today, but it takes place in the Angiewolf AU.  Specifically, it takes between this ficlet and this ficlet.  It’s the morning after Ford gets back, where he visits Stan and Angie’s house to help explain everything to Dipper and Mabel.  But before he even sees the Mystery Twins, he has to talk to his sister-in-law and his newfound niece.  Don’t worry, he’s excited to see them.  A lot more excited than he was to see Stan.

              Ford stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stood outside Stan and Angie’s house.  It hadn’t changed in appearance since he’d been gone.  It was still spacious and rustic, like a cabin built for a family of basketball players.  Daisies and bluebells in full bloom stood side by side lining the front of the cabin. The Stanleymobile was parked in the driveway, as red as the day Stan had gotten it.

              It was like he was back in time, on the day Stan and Angie had first moved in.  He could practically see Stan, Angie, Fiddleford, and Angie’s family, full of excitement as they brought in boxes and furniture.  Stan challenging Lute on who could carry the most boxes.  Angie waving off Fiddleford’s concerns that she was straining herself by carrying the largest, heaviest furniture.  The six-month-old triplets sitting in the grass, playing with pastel toys under the watchful eye of Angie’s parents.  Ford swallowed, painfully aware of how the happy memories didn’t line up with the last time he had been there.  He made his way to the front door and knocked.

              “Someone’s at the door!  Someone’s at the door!  Someone’s here!” a voice shouted.  Ford frowned, trying to place it.

              Daisy, perhaps?  A muffled voice said something in response.  The door opened.  Ford smiled at the person standing before him.

              “Emily, I presume?” he asked.  Emily beamed broadly at him, her grin stretching from ear to ear.  Last night, in wolf form, he’d mistaken her for Angie.  But in her human form, the characteristics she’d inherited from Stan were more obvious – the large ruddy nose, the square jaw, the stocky figure.

              “That’s me,” Emily chirped.  Ford’s smile became warmer.

              “It’s a pleasure to properly meet you.”

              “Right back at ya.”

              “Short stack, let yer uncle in,” a new voice said.  A voice that Ford recognized.  He looked over.  Angie was standing in the entryway to the nearby kitchen, drying her hands on a gingham towel.  She grinned at him.  It was the same smile spread across Emily’s face.  “Long time no see, Stanford Pines.”

              “Yes, it has been a while,” Ford said, adjusting his glasses.  He tried to banish the mental image of the last time he’d seen Angie.

              Angie pale and unconscious on the floor, burns from silver spread across her body.  The triplets, whom she had managed to lock in their room when his possessed body arrived, shouting at the top of their lungs.  Stan physically throwing him out of the house, looking as feral as Angie on a full moon.

              “…Stanford?” Angie asked.  Ford blinked, surfacing from the memory.  Angie’s blue eyes were full of concern.

              I don’t deserve concern from her. Not after what happened thirty years ago.  She could have died.

              “Yes, I am.  I’m just, um,” Ford stammered.  Angie let out a small chuckle.

              “A sci-fi makeover hasn’t changed ya a bit.  Come on into the kitchen and I’ll feed ya.  I’m assumin’ ya haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

              “That would be an accurate assumption to make.”

              “Figured.”  Angie strolled back into the kitchen.  Emily raced after her.  “Hold yer horses, pup.  The sausage is cookin’.”  Ford followed his niece and sister-in-law.  He looked around the kitchen with interest.  Among the mass of magnets covering the fridge was a wolf-themed calendar.  Several events were scribbled in red ink.  Many of the generic pictures of food that had decorated the walls thirty years ago had been replaced by pictures of Stan and Angie’s vast family.  The kitchen table was covered with yarn, glitter, and chewed on pens.

              “Project of yours?” Ford asked, picking up a skein of bright yellow yarn. Angie looked over.

              “No, that’s Mabel’s.  So’s the glitter.”

              “You haven’t bothered to clean up?”

              “Mabel’s mess is an organized mess.  Everything’s in its spot,” Angie said.  “The last time I cleaned up her supplies, she turned the house upside down ‘cause cleanin’ disrupted her system.  Made even worse of a mess.”

              “Ah.”  Ford carefully nudged a few sparkly pieces of yarn aside and sat at the table.  He clasped his hands.  “So, Fiddleford tells me you and Stan added to your family since I last saw you.”

              “Yes.  In a rather major way.”  Angie nodded at Emily, who was rummaging through the fridge.  “Emily’s the oldest of quadruplets.”

              “Quadruplets?” Ford said, aghast.  He shook his head.  “You have seven total children.”

              “Yep.”

              “You and Stan raised seven children.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “You.  And Stan.”

              “If yer tryin’ to imply that they were all wild and difficult, yer correct. I mean, the combination of myself and Stan is a handful alone.  Add onto that the lycanthropy and the fact that they were multiple births…”  Angie let out a bark of laughter.  “I’m honestly surprised the house is still standin’.”  Ford chuckled.

              “…Do you have any pictures?” he asked.  Angie grinned.

              “What do ya take me for?”

----- 

              Ford laughed as he turned a page in the photo album Angie had grabbed for him.

              “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?” he asked.  Angie shook her head, hiding a smile.  

              “Look, when you’ve got seven kids, ya don’t have that many options fer fam’ly Halloween costumes.”

              “These are wonderful.”  Ford looked at Angie.  “Thank you.”

              “…Fer what?”

              “Not kicking me out of the house the second you smelled my arrival.”

              “I heard ya ‘fore I smelled ya,” Angie said.  She turned another page in the photo album.  “But if I’m bein’ honest, Stan was the one who talked me down.”

              “Stan?”

              “Yes.  The day that you…”  Angie cleared her throat.  “I was still sick and hurt, and if I recall correctly, my words were ‘good riddance’.”

              “…Oh.”

              “Stan, though, he reminded me that what happened wasn’t under yer own volition, and you’d never do anything to purposefully hurt people you care about.” Angie shrugged.  “And I do feel like, even if we aren’t related by blood, we do have a bit of a connection.  We’re both scientists, after all.”

              “Stan was the one who talked you down,” Ford said quietly.  He rubbed his face.  “Why did he do that?”

              “Yer his brother.  He cares about you.”

              “I don’t know if I believe that.”

              “Oh, Lord.”  Angie steepled her fingers.  “What happened last night between you two?”

              “What do you-”

              “Stan came home furious about somethin’.  He wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

              “We fought.”

              “You fought?  Why?”

              “Because of the immense risks he took to bring me back after he pushed me through the portal in the first place!” Ford shouted.  Angie pursed her lips.  “And I heard the boy – Dipper – say that he got bitten by a werewolf, too.  I don’t know how Stan is involved, but I know it’s his fault in some way.”

              “Stanford.”

              “That’s his MO, Angie, and you know it.  Bad things happen around him.”

              “Does this have to do with the science fair incident?”

              “No.  I’ve moved past that.”

              “I don’t think you have.”

              “Angie, please,” Ford said.  He took a breath.  “I don’t want to talk about Stan.  I want to talk about your kids and Shermie’s grandkids.”

              “But-”

              “I mean it.”

              “Fine.”  Angie held her hands up.  “I’ll drop it.  And when Stan gets up, the chips ���ll fall where they may.”

              “Thank you.”  Ford turned his attention back to the photo album.  “What did you say Cadenza does?”

              “She’s a lawyer.”

              “A lawyer?  Wow.  I assume she inherited Stan’s silver tongue.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “I’d like to meet her.  I’d like to meet all of the quadruplets.  And I’d like to see the triplets again.”

              “Sorry, but most all of the pups didn’t stick around in Gravity Falls. The only ones here right now are Emily and Molly.”

              “Aka the best ones,” Emily piped up.  “Caleb’s not even a werewolf anymore.”

              “He’s not?”

              “Nope.”

              “Huh.  Given how proud you all are of being werewolves, I would not have expected any of you to use the lycanthropy cure.”

              “Caleb’s always been a bit ‘meh’ about the werewolf thing, and being allergic to silver was making it difficult for his job,” Emily said.  “So he gave it up.”

              “What’s his job?”

              “He’s a pastry chef,” Angie replied.  “He lives in Piedmont like Mabel and Dipper.”

              “A pastry chef.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “Where is everyone else?”

              “Most of ‘em aren’t close enough to visit easily,” Angie said.  “Danny’s in Washington, D.C.  She works fer the Pentagon.”

              “Really?  With Stan for a father, how did she pass the background check?” Ford mumbled.  Angie frowned.

              “If I can’t talk ‘bout Stan, you can’t talk ‘bout him, either.”

              “Very well,” Ford sighed.  “What about the rest of your pups?”

              “Daisy’s back in Gumption on the fam’ly farm, doin’ testin’ on the crops. She’s a geneticist, so she’s tryin’ to improve the yield.  Emmett’s in dance school in San Diego – he studies ballet.  And Cadenza runs her practice from Portland.”

              “What about Molly?”

              “She’s bounced around doin’ botanical research, but right now she’s back in Gravity Falls, like I said.  She’ll be stoppin’ by this mornin’.”

              “She doesn’t live with you?”

              “…She’s in her thirties.  She has her own place.”

              “Oh.  Right.” Ford swallowed.  “She’s in her thirties.”

              “It’s got to be strange fer you,” Angie said sympathetically.  “She wasn’t even in kindergarten when you…left.  Now she’s all grown.”

              “Yes.”  Ford sighed softly.  “I’ve missed quite a bit.  Fiddleford even has a grown son.”  Emily, who was looking for something in one of the cupboards, froze.  She closed the cupboard door and stared at Ford with wide eyes.

              “Oh my god,” she whispered.  Angie stood up from the table.  “Oh my god! Ma, that’s-”

              “Emily, come with me to wake up yer father,” Angie said in a tight voice.

              “But Ma, Tate’s-”

              “Shh!”  Angie shot Ford an awkward grin.  “Go ahead and help yourself to some breakfast.  If Dipper and Mabel come down, tell Dipper he’s not allowed to have any pancakes.”  Ford nodded.

              “Because he’s been bitten, he’ll need plenty of protein.”

              “Exactly.”  Angie ushered Emily out of the kitchen.  Ford looked over at the counter.  Bacon, eggs, sausage, and pancakes were piled high on platters.  He smiled.

              That’s another thing that hasn’t changed.  Angie’s insistence on feeding everyone.  His stomach growled.  It’s been thirty years since I’ve had her amazing cooking.  Before he could get up to make a plate, footsteps rushed from the second floor. The two children he had met last night, Mabel and Dipper, ran into the kitchen.  They made a beeline for the food.

              “Dipper, no pancakes,” Ford said quickly.  Mabel and Dipper froze.  They slowly turned to face him.  Mabel squished her face excitedly.

              “Great-Uncle Ford!  What are you doing here?” she asked.

              “I came over to help Stan and Angie explain everything.”

              “Everything?” Dipper gasped.  He grabbed a notepad and pencil from inside his vest.  “Like, everything?”

              “Um, everything regarding the werewolf situation,” Ford said hesitantly.  Dipper’s eyes widened.

              “Awesome!”

              “Why can’t Dipper have pancakes?” Mabel asked.

              “Pups need protein,” a voice grunted.  Ford let out a small sigh.  He looked at the person who had just entered.

              “Stanley,” he said shortly.  Stan glared at him.

              “Ford,” Stan ground out.  He looked back at Dipper.  “Dipper, you got turned yesterday.  Getting turned isn’t a joke.  You need a lot of protein when you’re changing species, and you’re gonna be a pup on top of it.  Werewolf pups have to eat a lot of protein ‘cause they’re still growing.”

              “I’ll only have one pancake then,” Dipper said.  Stan glowered.

              “No.  No pancakes. Only protein for breakfast.”

              “But-”

              “No buts, kid,” Stan rumbled.  Angie walked into the kitchen.  “Ang, keep an eye on Dipper.  Don’t let him have any pancakes.”

              “Of course, darlin’.”

              “Thanks.”  Stan looked at Ford.  “Sixer. We should talk.”

              “…Yes,” Ford said.  “We should.”

[randomfandomimagine]

Here Comes The Sun. Chapter 2: Hunters of the Supernatural

Fandom: Supernatural

Setting: Alternative Season 13/14

OC: Brooke Bishop

Pairing: None

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

WATTPAD - AO3

Soft rock music. A constant noise in the background. Light shining in my face.

I slightly bounced with movement around me. I winced as I wished everything stayed still, that the world stopped spinning around me. My stomach felt queasy and weak. My brain worked slowly, trying to understand my surroundings as my eyes remained closed. Light still shone on my face, which I could only assume was the sun, judging by its warmth. That sound in the background was familiar, but I couldn’t quite remember what it was, my mind was too foggy still.

Everything came to a halt all of a sudden and the movement stopped. I jumped in place with a sudden noise. A door had closed, a car door. That must have been the familiar sound, an engine running. The engine of a car.

I opened my eyes and found myself in the backseat of the car, my head lolled to the side over the top of the seat, which was covered in black leather, worn-out yet clean and looked after. As I looked around, I saw the inside of the car was cream colored.

Giving myself a moment, I focused on taking deep breaths. Until a movement at the corner of my eye warned me that I wasn’t alone.

The man sitting on the copilot seat quickly turned his head to me when I yelped and hurried out of the car. As soon as I stood, my knees buckled under my weight and everything started spinning around me again, so I had to hold on to the roof of the car not to fall.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay!” He was already out himself, towering over me with his tall stature.

“Where am I?!” I exclaimed, fearing that he meant to hurt me and shoving him away from me. The burly man barely moved. “Who are…?”

My strengths failed me and I felt myself falling as I was hit with a strong dizzy spell.

“Whoa, whoa” Two strong arms caught me. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you”

I was breathing heavily, closing my eyes tight as the world still spun around me.

“What…?” I feebly began, but was too weak to finish my sentence.

“I’m here to help” He held me by the shoulders and straightened me up, gently leaning my back against the side of the car. “My name’s Sam Winchester, I’m with my brother Dean”

I nodded, appreciating that he introduced himself. I took a moment to recover and looked up at him when I felt a little more stable. He was watching me nervously, his arms outstretched in case I faltered again.

“I’m… Brooke” I managed a weak smile. “Brooke Bishop”

“Are you okay?” He frowned, his eyes laced with concern.

“Wait…” I knew those kind green eyes. “I remember you… You-you saved me!”

“Well, yeah, I guess so” He chuckled awkwardly, briefly holding my arm just in case as I repositioned myself against the car.

“Take it easy, okay?” Despite being a big guy with a deep voice, there was an incredibly softness to him. “You went through a lot last night”

“Last night?!” I repeated as my slow dazed mind made the connection that the sun being out meant it was day. “It was night and now it’s day! I was out for a while, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah” He nodded, frowning in an empathetic expression. “Are you feeling better?”

I took a deep breath as I absently scratched my neck there where it itched. I found with a small bandage that, when I looked at it, I realized was stained with blood. The sight made me completely aware of how I got it, what happened last night. I remembered it vividly.

“Y-Yeah, I think so… Thanks for saving me” I looked up at him, trying to remember his name. “Sam, was it?”

“That’s right” Sam softly smiled at me, a kind and comforting gesture. “And no problem”

I reciprocated the gesture, his smile only widening in response. I trusted him, he seemed like a good man. And he had saved me and helped me, not to mention being incredibly calm and sweet for my sake.

“Do you wanna sit down? My brother will be back soon” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the small convenience store behind him. Wow, my last shift at the store felt like ages ago…

I nodded, weakly leaning on the car. Sam was nice enough to open the door for me, so I smiled to thank him and got in. once I was inside, he closed it behind me and occupied his spot at the copilot seat once more.

“S-Sam?” I called him, making him turn his body toward me as he listened intently. “Where are we going?”

“Home, you’ll be safe in there, and you can stay until you get back on your feet”

I nodded, grateful to have run into him and his brother. I looked away, but I still felt Sam staring as I put my arms around myself and leaned my head against the top of the seat.

“You’re shaking” He muttered, stirring in the seat. “Are you cold?”

“No” I replied, and I wasn’t lying. Sam must have known what that meant, because he immediately took his jacket off and offered it to me.

“Here, put it on” Seeing as I took a moment to move, he insisted.

“T-Thank you…!” I muttered in awe as I accepted it and put it on, genuinely moved by the gesture. The jacket, even if it was a few sizes bigger, felt warm and nice, and the light weight felt comforting.

Sam smiled at me once more before turning back around, even if he quickly looked at me in the reflection of the rear view mirror.

The door by the driver’s seat suddenly opened and then closed again as someone joined us inside the car.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty is up!” A man with short hair and green eyes turned to me with a grin. “Mornin’! How you holding up?”

“Better” I mumbled as I observed him, imagining that was… Dean, I think he said was his name.

He passed a plastic bag to his brother, which he put by his feet. The two of them turned to look at me, but it was Dean who spoke up again.

“Want us to call anyone? Tell them where you are?”

“No… I don’t really have anyone, it’s just me…”

An uncomfortable silence established for a few seconds, but Dean cleared his throat and drummed his fingers against the top of the seat before he spoke up again.

“Okay” He started the engine, getting comfortable in the seat before he began driving. “I have a question, kid. We saw a girl running away from that alley, did you save her?”

“Y-Yeah… I guess… I just heard her screaming and… wanted to help her” I shrugged under Sam’s oversized jacket.

“That was really brave, Brooke” Sam smiled at me again.

“Yeah, really heroic…” His brother said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Or really freaking stupid…”

“Right” The other rolled his eyes at his words and looked at me again. “Well, I think it was brave, not everyone would have done the same thing”

“Because some are smart and actually run away from the danger” The driver’s eyes never left the road, but they briefly meet with me through the rear view mirror.

“But… you didn’t” I stupidly mumbled, confused that he was telling me off for something he had done himself.

“That’s right” He grinned, glancing at me again through the mirror. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No! I didn’t mean…” I stopped talking when I realized he was smiling, and I did too. Those guys weren’t so bad. “Well, I’m glad that you were stupid enough to save me”

The silence settled during the rest of the car ride, but the driver filled it with some music as he raised the volume of the radio.

  I was relieved when we arrived and Dean stopped the car. I was starting to eat my head with what happened last night. A little voice at the back of my head screamed at me to stop being so stupid and admit to myself the truth of what really happened. But it just couldn’t be, it was too farfetched and wild to be real. Yet those events still occupied my mind.

I followed Sam and Dean out of the car as they approached the front of a low building with a big metallic door, surrounded by a circle of red bricks and an arch. It kinda resembled a bunker. Walking in after them, I was received with a spacious and inviting place.

Looking down from the top of a metallic staircase, I saw a room with a big table showcasing a world map. I watched the cool table and the chairs as I stepped down the stairs, realizing Sam and Dean were already down. Connected to this room was a library, even bigger than the room before it, furnished with countless shelves and a few square wooden tables with their respective wooden chairs.

“Wow” I exhaled in awe. “This place is awesome!”

“Home, sweet home” Dean grinned, motioning over to it with his arms. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, make yourself at home, um… I didn’t catch your name”

“Brooke”

“Make yourself at home, Brooke”

“Thanks”

I let my eyes wander around the spacious area, noticing the entrance to a long corridor that made me wonder what it led to, what other cozy and organized rooms were there.

Hearing their heavy footsteps around the room, I suddenly felt the need to talk to them, to ask them the many questions that were swimming in my thoughts, that haunted me and assaulted me over and over again.

“Sam, Dean?” They immediately turned to me, expectant. “Do you think you could tell me… Those men… They weren’t actually men, were they?”

They exchanged a glance between them before settling their eyes on me again. The both of them tensed up a little, and Dean crossed his arms over his chest as he replied.

“You saw something?”

“Yeah… A row of sharp teeth like… fangs?”

Sam and Dean exchanged yet another glance, this one more restless than the other.

“Please tell me what they were” I gulped, feeling my heart beating in anticipation.

“I think she has the right to know…” Sam shrugged, even if his head tilt showed he was reluctant.

“Do you really wanna know?” Dean stared at me with a frown. “It’s pretty messed up”

“I do, I… I can’t stop thinking about it…” I sighed, locking eyes with their green ones. “Please”

“You might… wanna sit down” Sam anxiously passed a hand through his face and leaned on the table.

They paused as I sat down, and the tension formed a lump in my throat. I watched them frowning and looking at each other but for the first time their eyes wouldn’t meet with mine.

“W-Well?” I asked with a shaky voice.

“You’re right, they weren’t men” Dean turned to me, bearing a grave yet slightly stern expression. “They were vampires”

I chuckled briefly, thinking for a moment that they were joking. But they didn’t laugh, on the contrary, they appeared as serious as ever. I… Golly, I didn’t know how to react… What to say, what to do…

“Vampires…” I felt slightly light-headed, so I blinked repeatedly trying to shake the feeling away. “Is…? Is that why you cut his head off?”

“Yeah, it’s the only way to kill them” Dean replied, still very serious.

Even though it was as farfetched and wild as I had thought when the possibility that they might be monsters popped up in my head before they confirmed it, it was… logical? It was a rational explanation, it made sense out of their fangs and their… hunger.

I had many more questions, even if I was conflicted that I was willing to believe vampires were real. How could that make sense? It was fricking insane!

“And that’s why you asked if I drank his blood?” I turned to Sam, who nodded briefly.

“You would turn into one if you did” His words made me gasp. I paused, letting my finger trace over the bandage on my neck.

“But… I’m okay, right?” I gulped just thinking about the horrible possibilities. “He bit me and…”

“Luckily for you, he just scratched you, didn’t even drink your blood” Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Even if he did, you would be safe unless you drank its blood”

“Oh…” I just muttered, shrinking into the chair. I felt so incredibly tired all of a sudden.

I frowned as I tried to take the information in. Vampires were real, and I had just encountered some of them. They had attacked me, and they could have drunk my blood, I could have become one of them, they could have killed me! If it weren’t for Sam and Dean, I could have died.

But the fact that things such as vampires existed and…

A wave of nausea hit me as I was hit with a terrible realization.

“Wait” I stood from my seat and paused to watch Sam. “Does that mean other things are real too?! O-Other ‘supernatural’ creatures?”

“Yup” Dean replied instead, sighing tiredly. “Werewolves, shapeshifters, demons… you name it”

I felt myself shaking like a leaf again, thankful that Sam’s thick jacket was still over me. Even if it didn’t help when tears threatened to arrive to my eyes. Or when my stomach got in knots.

“B-But you…” It suddenly got very hard to order my thoughts and form a coherent sentence. “You knew that, right? And you didn’t run away”

“It’s kind of what we do, we’re hunters” Sam shrugged even if he wasn’t too convincing on his carefree attitude.

“You’re… hunters of the supernatural?”

“Yeah… It’s a lot, right?”

“We warned you, kid” Dean’s stern scowl suddenly softened slightly.

“Yeah, but… No, I’m… I’m okay” I assured, taking a deep breath and averting my eyes, staring at my red converse.

“Are you sure?” Came Sam’s deep voice. “Do you need anything?”

“I… Could I… take a shower or something? I need to… I don’t know, I…” I chuckled awkwardly, needing an excuse to be alone and genuinely feeling like a shower could do me some good. “If that’s alright, I…”

“Yeah, sure” Sam dedicated me an empathic smile, pointing to my neck. “And we should change your bandage later. You’ll feel better in no time”  

I nodded and let Sam put a hand over my shoulder as he accompanied me over to the corridor to show me where the bathroom was. However, even before we could walk into the hallway, someone appeared from the depths of it, startling me.

“I thought I heard you coming back!” A boy was standing before us, smiling at Sam and Dean.

I observed the boy curiously, mesmerized by the pure and innocent look in his expression. He had light brown hair, combed so one side fell over his soft blue eyes, which just then landed over me as he noticed me next to Sam. The boy seemed confused and surprised for a moment, but then he smiled at me.

“Hello!” He waved at me, so I reciprocated the gesture. “I’m Jack”

“Jack, this is Brooke” Sam gently patted my shoulder, then looking down to me and pointing at him. “Jack’s staying with us too”

“So she’s staying here?” The boy asked, watching me curiously too.

“Yeah, she was attacked by some vamps” Dean added behind us.

There was a silence in the room as the boy let the news sink in. He frowned sadly and looked down to the ground. Sam cleared his throat to break the tension.

“C’mon, Brooke” When I looked up at him, he was dedicating me a comforting smile. “I’ll show you where everything is”

  After the shower I felt a little better. I washed that feeling of filth off me, and the warm water helped me stop shivering. It was also great feeling clean after that ordeal, and having some time alone to assimilate everything. I kind of wanted to cry to let out all that pent up tension and anguish, but I wasn’t able to. I guessed I was a bit in shock still.

I quickly went to see Sam and Dean before I went to the room Sam showed me, the one I would be staying in. They changed my bandage and I thanked them for the clothes they lent me, for letting me stay there and for everything really. They had been incredible, and the fact that their job was to save people and go against monsters was just amazing. Sam and Dean were one of a kind.

However, as soon as I walked into my room and closed the door behind me, I felt like a weight was suddenly crushing me. I was about to face a night alone, which included the inevitable memories of what happened rushing back to me, not to mention the possibility of nightmares. I also felt insecure, like any of those supernatural creatures that, I now knew roamed freely around the world, could get to me. No matter how safe I felt in the bunker, especially knowing Sam and Dean were there too. But the mere thought that any of those creatures was real was so frightening!

I sat on the bed, shrunk over myself and hugged my knees. The silence was incredibly loud in that empty room. My thoughts seemed to be screaming, reminding me of all the scary things that it could gather. I was exhausted, but I didn’t want to go to sleep, I just… I wouldn’t be able to.

A sob suddenly shook my shoulders as the tears rolled down my eyes without a warning. I covered my mouth, trying not to make any noise. But I continued crying, hoping that at least it would relief the tension I felt in my chest. That it would chase away my fear.

A sudden knock on the door startled me, causing me to stop crying.

“Y-Yes?” The door opened to reveal the boy from before. I had honestly forgotten he was even there in the bunker with us.

“Hello…” He gravely said, timidly stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Hey” I quickly wiped my tears and forced a smile.

“Sam asked me to… check on you”

“Oh… okay”

“I thought I heard…. Were you crying?”

I made pause, considering whether I should lie or not. There was no point, really. So I just admitted it, assuming he would understand I was entitled to cry after what I had been through. After what I discovered. After the horrible last couple of days.

“Well, yeah…” I finally said, causing a pronounced frown to appear on his face.

Then there was an uncomfortable pause, filled with an awkward silence.

“Are you okay?” Jack finally asked me, staring at me with such intensity that I looked away.

“Yeah… Yeah, I just…” I paused for a moment, heaving a sigh. “I needed to… you know, vent a little”

I chuckled to relief the tension and sniffled through my nose, watching him with the corner of my eye. He just stood there, watching me still. After a moment, he took a step closer to the bed.

“I understand” He nodded, sober as all his movements seemed to be. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll be fine, I guess… Thanks, um…”

“Jack”

“Right, sorry” I awkwardly chuckled. “Don’t take it personal, Jack, I’m usually great with names. It’s just that learning about vampires and werewolves and all, lately it’s hard to focus on other things”

“It’s okay” He insisted, vehemently nodding. His voice was incredibly soft and comforting. There was something about that boy, something pure and bright. I didn’t even know him, but I was glad that he was there with us… somehow.

“So what’s your story?” I wiped the remaining of my tears and scooted to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“It’s…” Jack frowned, finally averting his eyes. “Complicated”

“Does it have to do with all this supernatural stuff?”

“Yes”

“Then you’re right, I don’t want to hear it” I heaved a sight. However, when I realized that might have sounded rude, I apologetically waved my hands in the air. “N-No offence, it’s not that I’m not interested! But… I honestly don’t think I can take any more of that right now”

“No, I… I understand” Jack gulped, but his expression was still soft. “It’s not easy”

I nodded, definitely agreeing with his words. None of it was easy.

Having survived a vampire attack, fearing those vampires might come back for me at any moment, being sheltered in an old bunker with three strangers, two of which were hunters of supernatural beings like the ones that attacked me.

“I…” Jack must have noticed my thoughts were wandering. It was hard for me to focus. “I’m in the other room… if you need anything”

“Thank you” I smiled, genuinely appreciating the sweet gesture.

Jack dedicated me a small smile of his own and left the room. I was alone again, which I honestly didn’t know if it was better or worse. I needed some time to think, but I could also start eating my head. I… I knew I would eat my head.

As the silence filled the room now, I feebly lied down. I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep, but I still tried to close my eyes and relax. Only the faint voices of Sam and Dean could be heard echoing further into the distance of the big bunker.

I frowned as I wondered what would become of my day to day now. Would I resume my life right where I left it? If so, when? And how could I even go back to living normally after what happened in the first place? How could I live a normal life again after that?

Tagging:@thoughtfulcollectormaker, @xionroxas, @snowfire71

A/N: Surprise! I’m so excited about this story that I couldn’t help myself and I wanted to post chapter 2 already. But since I’m opening ships soon, chapter 3 will have to wait for at least until next week :P

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 26

Dogmeat woke long before I did, I suspect with the first hint of food being prepared. I found him in the mess hall, begging from my two officers. Danse, sitting down and eating despite being in power armor, ignored the canine. Preston, sitting across from Danse, slipped something from his plate every third time Dogmeat nosed his knee.

“Preston, you’re spoiling him,” I said as I joined them.

“Morning, General. Can’t do too much harm, can it?” He turned to Dogmeat, “Not like you can get anything begging from him, can you?”

Dogmeat made a short sound between a whimper and an excited woof. Preston laughed, and scratched Dogmeat’s neck.

I smiled, “He doesn’t have to. The Minutemen recruiters and the Diamond City Guard all spoil him without my help. Not to mention Shaun. And I suspect Codsworth.” I frowned. “Valentine too, come to think of it, and I’m certain Piper does, if only just to spite me in good humor.”

Danse turned his laugh into a cough.

“Rebellion in the Holmes household,” Preston joked. “I’ll send over some troops right away.”

“I am perfectly capable of handling matters on my own, thank you,” I grinned.

A thrilled “Bonjour, Monsieur Holmes!” came from behind me, “And allô to Monsieur Dogmeat as well.” Dogmeat’s tail wagged as Curie scratched his head, and then went right back to focusing on Preston. “Colonel and Lt. Colonel, good morning!”

We all said our respective hellos, and Sturges appeared beside her with two plates of food. “Mornin’! Glad to see you, General. Mind if we join you?”

The answer was obvious, and soon Sturges was next to Danse, with Curie beside him. Even with Sturges between them, Danse seemed a bit ill at ease. My suspicion was confirmed when Preston leaned over to mutter softly, “Just found out about her… origins.”

“Ah.” A synth Danse could deal with, even one with such unique behavior as Curie. Finding out the mind inside the synth is actually that of a robot… that was a little too reminiscent of the technologies run amok he’d been trained to prevent.

Danse was watching Preston. He raised an eyebrow, and made a visible effort at relaxing. It didn’t quite work, but the effort was the important part.

Sturges and Curie wanted to know about Diamond City and the family, and I asked about improvements to the town and Curie’s continued studies. And then Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor walked through the door.

All conversation in the mess hall went slightly quiet at the sight of a ghoul in eighteenth century red coat and tricorn hat, star-spangled-banner for a sash. Someone uttered a muted “holy shit the Mayor,” though I couldn’t tell who.

“Mayor Hancock!” I greeted him, “Help yourself and come join us.”

He grinned, devilish and preening, “Thanks, General. Don’t mind if I do.”

Discussion resumed. Preston frowned, doubtful. Danse scowled, and stood, “Excuse me, General, but I think it’s best if I return to duty.” He said, slightly louder, “If I reach the training grounds before my recruits, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Curie was puzzled. “Surely you will be hampered by the armor?”

“You ever seen him run in that armor?” Preston asked with a smile.

“No.”

“The recruits have.”

There was a sudden mass exodus from the mess hall. Danse looked pleased. “Gentlemen. Curie.” He followed his troops out.

Hancock sat down beside me, amused. “Crew-cut sure is the soldierly type.”

“More than you know,” I smirked.

We ate in silence a moment before Curie, unable to contain her curiosity, said, “You are a fascinating specimen, Monsieur Hancock.”

Hancock’s brow rose and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Sturges said, “Honey, we talked about calling people specimens.”

Curie sighed, “I do not see why such a simple and general scientific term should be offensive.”

“Coming from you, it’s usually not, but some folks get touchy when you talk about them like they’re in a lab.”

“This is a struggle of mine,” Curie said to Hancock with an apologetic shrug, “adjusting centuries of programming for a precise vocabulary.”

Hancock blinked. “... Centuries?”

“Long story,” Sturges put out a hand, “Name’s Sturges.”

Hancock shook hands with an impressed, and bemused, smile, “Hancock.”

“Mayor Hancock. From Goodneighbor?”

Word of his fame, or infamy, never ceases to please him. “One and the same.”

“Huh. Ok. Well, I’m not sure how long the General’s staying, but if you want to lend a hand while you’re here, let me know. Always work that needs to be done.”

“And you’re the one that does it.”

“More often than not,” Sturges smiled. “I like working with my hands, and it’s not like everyone else doesn’t pull their weight. Everyone helps out.”

Hancock was skeptical. “Even the soldiers?”

“Especially the soldiers.” Sturges nodded toward Preston, whose frown hadn’t quite left his face yet. “Preston thinks it’s important the soldiers be as much a part of the settlement as everyone else that comes here, and the Lt. Col. agrees.”

“The guy in power armor,” Hancock clarified.

“That’s him. Curie here is the town medic, and if you need any supplies you'll want to see Al at the general store. He used to live in Goodneighbor, you might recognize his coat.”

Hancock was puzzled a moment before realization hit. “Wait. Yellow coat? That guy??”

“He sold my family our… room… in the Vault,” I said, “and then they wouldn't let him in. I understand he's set up some effective trade agreements for the settlement.”

Sturges nodded, “Nice guy. Well, I've got beds to build this morning. Young couple showed up a couple days ago, haven't said much, but they've got that look… I'm thinking Institute refugees. Past few months have been real hard for them. Dunno if they're synths or scientists, or maybe I'm way off, but that's the feeling I get from them.”

Hancock thought a moment, and then he shrugged and started rifling through his pockets. “Hell, Trouble here ain't gonna be much of it while he's playing General. Usually prefer a supervisory role myself, but I'm game if you want help.”

“Really? Well alright! Let's get to it, Mayor.”

Hancock found the canister of jet he’d been looking for, reconsidered, and stowed it away again. “Buildin’ shit, mentat’s better,” he muttered as he followed Sturges out the door.

Curie smiled, “I shall be in the medical facility - medbay. The Lt. Colonel calls it that, yes? Also clinic?”

“As it is your facility, you should decide what it’s called,” I said. “Danse will adjust.”

“Hm. I like this idea.” She smiled, and happily walked out of the mess hall.

I turned to Preston. His frown hadn’t lessesned. “You’ve heard of Hancock, I take it.”

He glanced away, and then attempted a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve never actually been to Goodneighbor before, but from what I hear it’s the sort of place you better watch your step.”

“That is accurate.”

Preston sighed. “Don’t let him talk you into anything you’ll regret later.”

“Honestly, Preston. Do you think that likely?”

He smiled, just a little. “Guess not. Still worth saying. If you’re finished, I’d like to go over some plans with you since you’re in town?”

“Of course.”

The rest of the day was spent “playing General,” as Hancock put it. The trade route north from Murkwater had to be re-routed around the Gunners headquarters, at least until a force could be mobilized to eliminate the threat. Stopping Gunners is always at the top of Preston’s list of things to accomplish, but he fortunately has enough sense to know Danse would be a more objective judge of Minutemen capabilities in taking on an entire Gunner stronghold. Our previously discussed plans for turning the nearby Red Rocket into an auxiliary settlement had come to fruition, with Sturges taking a special interest in the project. As Preston said, “The man built a teleporter. He wins all the arguments.”

It was later in the afternoon when Danse approached me. Sturges had somehow convinced Hancock to assist with further repairs. The Mayor of Goodneighbor was on a roof with a hammer, his coat hanging on the lone fencepost still standing in the yard beneath. I watched from across the street.

“A word, General?”

“Of course, Danse.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

I was instantly a touch wary, though I suspected I knew what his concern was. “Granted.”

“I don’t think your decision to travel with a chem-addicted pseudo-anarchist dictator of a settlement of criminals and outcasts is wise.”

I blinked. “I’m proud of you, Danse, you didn’t mention the fact he’s a ghoul once.”

He frowned, “General.”

“Mayor Hancock takes great pains not to be dictatorial, actually. Though I’m not entirely clear what his day to day duties consist of beyond organizing the defenses against super mutant attacks.”

Danse scowled with a huff of frustration, “Holmes -”

“I’m taking you seriously, Danse. I know Hancock’s reputation does not inspire confidence, but do you honestly think I would travel with him if he was nothing more than what you have just described?”

He thought for a moment, “No, you wouldn’t. However I fail to see whatever redeeming quality you may have found.”

“He’s… how did he put it… ‘not out to hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.’”

“But he’ll stand by as people fall victim to crimes in his own town?”

“He doesn’t approve of cold-blooded murder. However, it doesn’t take much to justify violence, particularly against those who are oppressing others.”

“This is not reassuring. Who’s running Goodneighbor while he’s with you?”

“His second in command, a terrifying woman called Fahrenheit. He’s left town enough times they’re used to it. He says getting out keeps him honest, reminds him how the rest of the world lives.”

“You believe him?”

“I think it is both a sincere belief that no one in power should be comfortable for too long, and a desire for distraction.”

“Do you trust him?”

“I believe so. … you still aren’t satisfied.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be, but at least I am fairly certain my friend hasn’t gone insane.”

I scoffed. “That’s something.”

He sighed, “I hope you understand, you saved my life. I owe it to you to voice my concerns when I think you might be endangering yours. I know Garvey feels the same.”

“I understand, Danse,” I said, sincere. “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “You’re welcome.” We resumed watching the construction. Hancock was telling Sturges about a time Klio needed repair work done on her shop’s roof. Apparently the cause of the damage was a faulty weapon’s misfire… but he suspected it was actually the assaultron’s own laser, either fired in anger or frustration.

“An assaultron runs a weapons shop in Goodneighbor?” Danse’s question was mirrored by Sturges asking Hancock the same thing.

“Yes,” I said, and changed the subject. “I saw Nash and Crosby on their way to the Castle. They stopped in Diamond City.”

Danse was pleased - no, proud. “They performed admirably through training and I hope the Castle puts their talents to good use.”

“I hope they extend to all Minutemen the same loyalty they feel for you.”

Danse blinked. “For me?”

“There were Brotherhood soldiers in Diamond City’s marketplace the day they arrived. A Scribe insulted their training. They seemed to take it personally.”

Conflicting emotions fought across his face for a moment, “What happened?”

“Nothing, I stepped in when I saw the argument, set both parties aright and sent them on their way. They were reluctant, but they followed orders.”

“The Minutemen, or the Brotherhood?”

“Ha, both. You should be proud of the work you’ve done.”

“I am.” He hesitated, “Garvey worries I'm going stir-crazy. It's been a long time since I was in the field. Yet, he also says it's too much of a risk.”

“Hm. Is he worried about the truce, or is he worried about you?”

“He is more concerned with the possibility that I may be killed than he is with the idea of fighting the Brotherhood. In fact, he'd probably welcome the opportunity to test his precious artillery on the Prydwen.”

“This is a point of contention between you?”

Another hesitation. “Not exactly. I don't understand how someone so forgiving in general is able to hold such a grudge against an organization he's never had contact with, apart from me.” He scoffed, “Clearly I underestimated how distasteful the experience of meeting me was.”

I chuckled, “His opinion of you is not the same as his opinion of the Brotherhood. Not anymore, at least, and hasn't been for some time.”

Danse nodded, “I know. When you were last here, the night after you left he stood in my doorway and asked how I could think the Minutemen would let me die without a fight. I told him I wasn't worth anyone dying for, much less starting a war over.”

I cocked my head, studying Danse’s face, and thankful he dislikes wearing a helmet outside of combat. “Preston disagreed.”

“Strongly.” Danse remained expressionless for all of five seconds before a sort of embarrassment came over him. It was the same look I saw every time he told me something personal about himself back when he wore Brotherhood colors. “We've spoke a great deal since then. Neither of us quite understands the other, but at the same time there are some things we understand better than anyone else.”

I thought I understood, and the sight of Preston visiting Danse in the middle of the night gained new significance. “Nightmares.”

He watched me closely. “… yes. When did you arrive last night?”

“Just in time to see him go inside your quarters.” Danse blushed, which was not quite the reaction I expected. “And now my suspicion it might be more than talking about nightmares is confirmed?”

“It isn’t… not last night, most of the time not, but… ugh.” He clearly wished the conversation wasn’t happening.

I shrugged, “Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me at all if that were the case, as long as you are both happy and it doesn’t interfere with your work… though I suppose that is somewhat hypocritical of me. I'm hardly making regular patrols.”

Emotions vanished, the soldier gratefully declaring, “Neither are you commanding from behind a desk.”

“Kind of you to say so.”

His brow furrowed. “You answer when we call, no matter how trivial the matter. We value your advice, and will follow your command. Though,” he amended, “perhaps you should make an appearance at the Castle once in a while.”

I grinned, “You’re right, I should.” A thought occurred to me. “Have you ever been to the Castle, Lt. Colonel?”

“I have not.”

“A terrible oversight. It seems to me the man in charge of training my troops should at least be familiar with the facility he’s sending them to.”

The slight shift in his expression was almost mischievous. “I concur.”

“Could Col. Garvey continue training in your absence for, oh, a week or so?”

“Affirmative. However, he may be resistant to the idea.”

“I anticipate as much. Let’s go talk with him.”

Preston was indeed resistant, and understandably so. However, he also knew Danse needed some time outside Sanctuary, just for a bit, and he couldn’t argue that the third in command of the Minutemen, and the man in charge of training new recruits, needed to see the ‘official’ headquarters at least once in his life. It would take some arranging, so I planned to continue on my tour of settlements with Hancock and meet Danse in Diamond City before travelling on to the Castle together. He would escort the next traders passing that way, providing a convenient excuse for a man in full power armor to be on the road.

Sturges said he had an idea for making it clear Danse was ‘Minutemen’ and hopefully decreasing the chance of a hostile confrontation with the Brotherhood. I’m not sure what he has in mind, but I’ll find out the next time I’m in Diamond City.