#stoic people aren’t just being moody | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

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rapp-ed around your heart (01)

word count; 19,578

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

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

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

The South East

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

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

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

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

“Your point?”

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

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

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So where exactly are we going first?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?”

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

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

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

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

“Good afternoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you going to do?”

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

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

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

“Can I pick the film?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you satisfied now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re stylish!”

“They’re hideous is what they are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you really doing this?”

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

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

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

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

“Did you just buy those?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep well?”

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

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

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

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

“Cold?”

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

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

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

“So, can I ask a question?”

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

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

“So, what was your question?”

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

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

“Sounds fun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pastries?”

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

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

“Deal!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a plan, Mitch!”

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

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

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

“Do you want to sleep longer?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

“You don’t have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fifteen minutes.”

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

“We’re taking a tour of a cemetery?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

“So, when are we booked in?”

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

“Want to take a picture with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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twilitty · 4 years ago

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Moonlit ch.3

This is the third chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every two weeks. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3.4k words

previous chapter

This chapter was not read over by a beta reader, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know in a private message. If you are interested in reading my chapters early and having a hand in the editing process, please let me know via direct message :)

Charlie arrives home from the new doctors household in odd condition. Bella becomes acquainted with a new friend and gets her first driving lesson.

Chapter Three

There’s something oddly comforting about the loud, thunderous engine of my new truck. It successfully blocks out all the thoughts I hope to escape from, and it does so in a way that does not involve the incessant pattering of rain. In fact, it completely eliminates the sound of rain, a miracle I hadn’t thought possible. I can’t imagine I’ll ever manage to repay Jacob for this gift, it means so much more to me than a couple thousand dollars and a way to get around. It’s my escape.

Charlie had gotten back from the new doctor's household late last night, his eyes bleary with sleep and arms hanging limp by his sides in what can only be described as a dead mans walk. I was used to the posture he held, all slumped over and distracted, as if he had gone on a three day long bender and returned empty of adrenaline and a will to stay awake. Renee had come home from too many “spa-retreats'' with that same form. Dead mans walk, that’s what her friend had called it when I brought it up. “Dead on the outside but more alive than you’ve ever felt on the inside,” she had explained with a distant smile, “awful to watch but beautiful to live out.”

It was strange to see my father, the stoic police chief, in that position. Perhaps he enjoyed his time at the new doctors house more than he thought he would, perhaps he enjoyed it enough to come in looking prematurely hungover and drained of energy. I wonder if he was drinking, or dancing, or maybe the new family- I blink my eyes hard, squeezing out all the muted light coming from the kitchen window. Stars dance in front of my vision once I open them again. Don’t think of what Charlie was doing there, I tell myself viciously. Please, I add on as an afterthought, as though my subconscious was privy to social niceties.

The clock on the microwave reads noon hour and my heart stutters. Charlie is still upstairs, dead asleep. He’s the one that wakes me up in the morning, always dressed and with a cup of coffee. But, no, he’s probably just tired from his long shift yesterday and maybe a little hungover. Only a little. In fact, maybe less than a little, maybe he isn’t hungover at all.

Soon, by which I mean no less than two hours after my initial worry over my fathers condition, he emerges from his bedroom and I can hear his footsteps lead into the bathroom. Good, I think, he’s awake before three in the afternoon. That must count for something. Perhaps- My thoughts, aimlessly trying to convince my subconscious that there is no reason for me to worry about the state of my middle-aged father, are interrupted.

“Bella?” Charlie calls quietly from the top of the stairs. He sounds like he just woke up from a long night out. Hangover voice is something I am very familiar with, although not from first hand experience. Any solace I had reached seconds ago comes crashing down into a pile at my feet.

I clear my throat, “Down here!” He comes down, feet stepping lightly on each step so as to barely make a noise. He enters the kitchen with a weary look on his face, as if I’m the one acting out of character. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing up so early?” He asks incredulously. I look at the time in the bottom corner of my computer, nearly two in the afternoon. I look back up at him with my eyebrows pinched.

“Char- Dad, it’s after noon.” My fathers eyes go wide, the whites showing prominently before squeezing down into a harsh blink. He turns to the microwave and his eyes blink violently again. “Dad?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his hands come together at the top of his head, interlacing over the brown hair he passed onto me. “I- I’m getting to work. I’ll see you for dinner.” He mumbles his words, the syllables pouring out into the air without any order. He retreats back upstairs with little more than a squeak on the floorboards, his eyebrows thick over his eyes with worry. The shower turns on quickly and I look back to my computer screen. I have to do some school work, Charlie is a grown man who can take care of himself.

I brew him a fresh pot of coffee, putting the creamer out on the counter even though I know he takes it black.

One of my favourite things about Forks, besides my new truck, is the ever present gloom that seems to permeate any mood you had prior to stepping outdoors. It’s like living in a depressive gothic novel written in nineteenth century England. Obsessively torturing the protagonist with dramatic metaphors and the blatant use of personification with inanimate objects like lampshades and tea kettles. I walk outside and my brain fills with run-on sentences about the state of my personal emotional evolution or the true crime of humanity being the amount of introspection that we would require to understand it. Almost compulsively, I assess my morals and the ethical value of my actions as if the rain draws out my inner philosopher. It’s dramatic and moody and unpleasant to experience.

Yet, I find myself drawn into this trance of deep inner thought and revel in it.

This is what I am doing when I park outfront of The Diner and walk through the front doors. My mind is occupied with drawn out thoughts that sound closer to Shakespeare than a girl who is barely passing her summer courses. My footfalls seem to almost perfectly fall in tune with my thoughts. I wonder if I’m walking funny, I think suddenly with a pointed look at my awkward steps. This is an issue with spending so much time alone in such a gloomy town; you forget other people exist. I pick up the pace of my footfalls and try to let my legs work naturally, but now that I’m aware of my walking I am incapable of walking naturally and feel like an oaf.

It is while I am walking like an oaf that someone calls out, “Isabella Swan?” My shoulders tense up to my earlobes and suddenly my feet are capable of walking without direction and almost steer me back through the front doors. Instead, I look up from my rough boots and meet the smile of the girl standing behind the counter cutting the large room in half. I try to ignore the stares of the other patrons.

The girl standing behind the counter looks to be about twenty and has brown hair just past her shoulders, similar to mine except for the fact that hers is shiny with the indication of product and care. A wave of self consciousness rolls over my shoulders, my dull, limp hair is suddenly as bright as a neon sign in the dead of night. “Bella,” I correct her, forcing myself to step up to the counter. “Everybody calls me Bella.”

She nods knowingly, as if she’s heard this before but just wanted it confirmed. Another wave of self consciousness crashes over me as the possibility of small town gossip arises. Does everybody already know who I am? I don’t like the thought of Charlie telling the town his eccentric ex-wife's daughter is coming to live with him, even if he said it politely.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Isabella is kinda a mouthful and takes like three whole syllables just to say it.” She shoots a hand across the laminate countertop and exposes a line of white, straight teeth. “I’m Jessica, not Jess,” She clarifies with a sarcastic eye roll. I take her hand, warm and soft, in my own and give it a polite shake before letting go. “Nobody calls me Jess, it sounds like it’s short for Jessie and when I think Jessie I think either golden retriever or blonde surfer dude and I am so not either of those things.”

“Jessica’s pretty,” I say with possibly a little too much enthusiasm. I haven’t spoken to someone as bubbly as this girl since Phoenix and I am poorly out of practice.

“She is, isn’t she?” A male voice calls from my right. It’s as if Jessica had spoken it into existence, because suddenly a blond surfer dude- minus the surfer- is sitting only three stools over.

“No, no,” my face flames and I quickly raise my hands in surrender. “I meant her name.” Then, looking at Jessica I see she’s chewing on her bottom lip and her dark eyebrows are scrunched down. I wonder if she practiced this expression in the mirror, it looks too perfect to be impromptu. “I mean, not that you aren’t pretty,” I clarify and her eyebrows shoot up as the blonde boy snorts. “I mean-” But Jessica raises a hand to stop me from torturing myself any further and drops the lip from between her teeth. “Listen, Bella, I know what you mean you don’t have to run in circles.” She says it in a way that insinuates I’m not the first person to fall into this situation with her. “You aren’t the first girl I’ve wooed with my tragically good looks.” This is not what I expected. The blonde boy snorts again but it sounds more like incredulity than a laugh. I open my mouth to interject, though I’m not sure what I will say, and Jessica widens her eyes at me. “Bella, girl, I’m joking.”

My mouth widens into an uncomfortable smile that likely looks closer to a grimace. She shakes her head at me with an expression that reads oh Bella even though we’ve only just met. I get the impression that Jessica is an easy person to be friends with and also decide that I will be coming to The Diner more often. “Now,” She says, “What did you order?”

I recite my order and she pushes open the swinging doors adorned with old license plates and bumper stickers to retrieve it.

“I’m Mike.” This is from the blonde boy, and he says it with a small wave that very much so indicates that he has lived in this town his whole life. People in big cities, people in Phoenix, don’t wave like that. It’s too small and kind and friendly, there isn’t enough neutrality for him to be from a big city. He’s inviting me into a conversation with the impression that I want to be invited. Small towns and sickly rom coms are the only places where this happens.

“Bella,” I respond, although he must already have heard me introduce myself to Jessica earlier. “It’s nice to meet you.” I tack on the last part in a likely failed attempt to come across as if I belong. It’s not that I want to be nice or friendly like Mike, it’s just that this will be far less awkward if I at least try to fit in.

“Likewise.” We lapse into a comfortable silence, or at least he appears to be comfortable in the silence. I am not. My blood seems to have congealed in my veins and is refusing to pump itself into my heart. Am I getting enough oxygen? Yes, yes, I am getting enough oxygen. I know this, but my body does not know this and so instead of trying to formulate some clever comment I try to level out my breathing and suck in as much as possible without seeming weird.

Three uneven breaths later and Jessica pushes out of the kitchen doors holding a large brown bag with a receipt stapled to the folded lip. She places it in front of me and I take a deep breath, suddenly grateful that my lungs are working and for the delicious smelling food. “I’ll pay with debit?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a question but it does. I can almost hear my mother scolding me, you need to be more assertive. You get stepped on if you’re too polite. I know she’s right but I ignore her anyway.

“No need, already paid for,” she says with a wide smile. “The cook says hi.” I take it, then, that the cook is the one who paid for my dinner.

“Oh, really that wasn’t necessary.” I produce my debit card from my pocket, holding it out as if it’s perfect evidence of my ability to pay. “I have money.”

“If you really wanna make it up to me I can take your number.” Renee would like Jessica, she’s assertive. I shake my head a little but still take out my phone and hand it to her. She punches in her number quickly, perfect nails tapping lightly on the screen before handing it back. Her own phone beeps. “Have a nice night, Bella! Text me whenever.”

I say goodbye to Mike and he waves kindly, almost immediately afterwards turning to talk to Jessica. They wave as I leave and I can feel the eyes of The Diner on my back as I leave the building and enter my truck.

It’s almost two days until I get a chance to talk with my mother, and within those days I accomplish more than one would expect of a girl who is so well acquainted with procrastination. Namely, I received a text message from Jessica. We conversed lightly, her with heavy use of emojis and me with improper use of punctuation and perhaps not enough enthusiasm. I know this because almost immediately after I send her my reaction to a movie she watched she calls me.

“Bella,” she says in a tone that insinuates both exasperation and light humour. “I swear, girl, you are so hard to read.”

“I know, my grammar-”

“No, no,” she cuts me off. “I mean I have no idea if you even wanna talk to me or not.” I’m shocked into silence, of course I want to talk to her. I enjoy talking to her. It seems I’ve been severely lacking in the friends department and it’s no recent issue. Ever since Phoenix I’ve remained forcibly independent, it’s nice to have people my age to talk to.

“I- I can use more emojis?” It comes out a question and my mother is back in my head, assertive assertive assertive. Jessica gives a triumphant laugh and I get the impression that this was her goal all along. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll try to communicate better.”

She just laughs and we hang up and continue texting, but not before she informs me that we will have to set up a schedule to meet in person. Apparently even with emojis in my armoury I am “more fun” in person. Who would have thought?

Within the two days before I call my mother I also get my first driving lesson with Jacob Black. He drives over in his fathers old truck, which he can no longer use due to the wheelchair. Jacob informs me of this with a smile that tells me he’s inherited the truck.

He bounces out of the vehicle with a giant grin on his face and his hands clasped excitedly behind his back. I could all but feel the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He had come prepared too, as I later found out, when he inserted a CD into my cars radio system. Soft rock echoed sweetly throughout the cab and Jacob drummed his fingers over his knees. “You gotta love ‘em, right?” He asked redundantly. I nodded, not knowing who I had to love or why, but just enjoying sitting next to him and listening to him talk.

He walked me through the gear shift. It sticks when you move directly from park to reverse, so I should always pause on drive for a moment first. We practice this in the driveway a few times before taking to the residential streets. We mostly talk during the drive, him giving me all the Rez gossip and me providing him with the meek details of my online school experience and my conversations with Jessica.

“She’s really nice,” I tell him as the trucks engine growls loudly at the stop light. “Loud, but loud in a nice way.” He nods in the passenger seat as if he completely understands, which I do not find difficult to believe. I wouldn’t be surprised if everybody in town was his friend.

“Yeah, I know a few people like that.” I’m proven correct. “Like there are just so many things going on inside them they can’t contain it.” I nod absently but my mind shifts to the first part of Jacobs comment. I wonder how many friends he has? I can’t imagine he’s unpopular, or even shy, he’s just too exciting and fun. His smile makes me want to smile.

“What?” He enunciates slowly with a slow head turn. I look away quickly, my eyes steadily focused on the bumper in front of us. I didn’t mean to stare at him.

“Nothing.”

“No, what?” I pull into the next lane, making sure to check over my shoulder twice. Maybe if I don’t pay attention to him, maybe if I just ignore- “Is there something on my face?”

I look over, baited into meeting his eyes. A big palm runs over his mouth and he pulls it back as if to inspect it for markings. “No,” I assure him. “There’s nothing on your face.” Then, my lips widen as if with a mind of their own, and suddenly I’m grinning. “I mean other than-”

He guffaws out a laugh before I can finish my comment and looks over at me with a smile mirroring my own. “Bella Swan, were you about to make a joke?” I shoot him a half-hearted glare and realize that this is all too easy with him. Jacob is like an overactive puppy, so easy to excite and quick to make you smile. I also realize that I seem to really enjoy the company of this particular overactive puppy.

“I make jokes plenty of times,” I retort with a quick glance in my rearview mirror. The houses have transitioned into a tree line and the previously residential road boasts a higher speed limit. “You most definitely do not. I remember being kids, you were always the sensible one.” My heart skips and my field of vision narrows to the space above the steering wheel. The road is slick with rain, I doubt I’ll ever see it dry. “You used to ask Charlie to put bandaids in your little backpack, just in case…” his words continue, detailing how mature I was for a first grader. I made decisions way past my age and was the first one to disinfect surface cuts and scrapes. I was the only one to disinfect bloody knees and palms, even though the sight made me sick. “It was like you just had to take care of everybody else.”

He looks over to me, I can see him in my peripheral vision, but instead of looking back I force my lips into an open smile. I hope it comes across as genuine. “I had a thing for first aid.” It’s a poor response. Anybody could see through my shallow sentence and many people would call me out on it. Tell me that for a girl with such a large vocabulary it’s odd for me to suddenly have nothing to say. For a girl who claims to enjoy this boys company I seem to be going out of my way to deter him from ever calling me again.

“Take a left up here,” Jacob says and his hand juts out to point at a beaten gravel road. It cuts into the forest at a haggard angle which makes it nearly impossible to maneuver, but I do so with more than minimal effort and release a heavy breath once we are on it. “Okay, now try to merge back onto the road.”

“What?” The odd, and clearly impossible, request pulls me out of my self-pitying thoughts. “Jake-”

“If you can’t do it that’s fine, just switch seats and I’ll drive.” The devilish glint in his eyes provokes some deep, hidden piece of me that craves competition.

“You just miss Betty,” I say with perhaps a little too much vindication. He doesn’t seem bothered either way and simply shrugs his large shoulders, the russet skin reflecting the light of another car's headlights as it passes on the main road.

“Yeah, I do.”

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random-imagines-blog · 5 years ago

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Bare My Soul {Jon Snow x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3865 Summary: You couldn’t have picked a more unfortunate time to tell Jon Snow how you feel.

The people of Winterfell were a lot like the place that they inhabited. They were tough, they were a bit weathered, they held strong against whatever came against them. It was a great place to be raised, in your opinion. There was nowhere better, and no one under whom you would want to be a ward of than Eddard Stark. Living under his rule was better than anything you could have imagined if you had stayed in King’s Landing with your mother, where your father Arthur Dayne had served the former King. You might have been raised a Princess, but you were not the petty sort. That was more so for the likes of the girl who was like a sister to you, Sansa. There was another reason why you liked to be here so much, and that reason had a name - Jon Snow.

He had been one of the first to comfort you when you had been exiled from your home and brought here to live in an entirely new environment. It had taken you a while to thrive under these new circumstances, and he had been with you through each step. You initially depended on Theon, a fellow ward, but he had an easier time coming to terms with everything, and instantly became like a brother to Robb Stark. For you, things were slower. Harder. But those first few years taught you to be thankful for what you had, to rise above any of the negative thoughts, to accept challenges head on because there were very often amazing rewards. Such as an amazing family full of brothers and sisters - and Jon, who you always set apart from the rest.

You’d had a crush on him since you first saw him, with his thick black curls always just a touch too long. He was rather shy, quiet, and was treated different from everyone else. Perhaps he saw the same thing in you and why you two became such kindred spirits. Being about the same age, you had the same lessons together in everything - horse back riding, reading, writing, self-defense. The latter of which only because Ned didn’t believe that you should be learning to sword fight as a lady. But that was fine, because you grew up believing that you would always have your big brothers and Ned there to protect you.

Becoming a teenager was not an easy thing, whether a male or a female. You were lucky to have Catelyn Stark to walk you through your feelings and your changes, but you weren’t expecting just how big these things were! The things that you felt when you looked upon Jon almost seemed ... sacrilegious. So you kept yourself busy as much as you can, employing your time with things like needlework and sewing. It was meticulous but dreary work, but at least it kept your mind off of Jon, and what he could be doing right now. Once in a while, you would sneak a peek out your window and see him and Robb working on their sword skills, clashing against one another without actually attempting to cause any pain. It was a surprisingly nice day for Winterfell, and they were just wearing tunics with arms exposed.

His biceps were all that you could think about for three days, which confused you because who gets all swoony over biceps? You couldn’t even ask Catelyn about it because she would disapprove immediately of any feelings for people within the castle. Curiously, the thoughts evolved to those of his leg muscles, which were quite toned as far as you could tell. You hadn’t seen him wear anything less than pants so you could only assume.

During dinner time, you gazed over in his direction more times than you had wanted to, only to be pulled out of it by Arya nudging you to get to the bread. At least she could always be counted on to bring you back to reality. You passed over the basket of bread, taking a small amount for yourself, then allowed your eyes to return to where you were looking before. To your surprise, you met his dark ones which were situated right on you. At the exact same moment, you both turned away, missing the blush that appeared on each other’s cheeks.

You thought that after being a teenager, you would get used to change, but now that you grew older, and were past the age that most women of your standing would be getting married, things were getting more and more confusing. You searched for something that would stay the same, and the only thing that appeared to be like that was Jon. Reliable, stoic, moody old Jon Snow.

He had the same routine for over a decade now, and you knew it off by heart. He would take walks at the same time, fight with Robb at the same time, eat at the same time, snack at the same time, visit the horses at the same time, even take his direwolf Ghost out at the same time each day. There were a few times when he deviated, and your paths crossed, which you hoped for each and every time you woke up in the morning.

Today, though, as you rose up from your bed, with the thin morning light coming in through your slotted window, you felt a change was coming. The King was coming to Winterfell, and with him, the Lannisters. You narrowly escaped being picked to be Joffrey’s betrothed and a future Queen, and you were forever grateful to Ned for that. He had pointed out to his friend, the King, that you were just the daughter of a knight, not one of a Lord or a high-ranking noble. This had lead to the decision that Sansa was to be a contender.

You dressed quickly into your best dress for the occasion. It wasn’t everyday that you were going to meet the King and his Queen. The gown that you had chosen was of a light blue color, high-necked with ruching all around. The fabric of the sleeves was lighter, just about see through to show off your shoulders. It was a special gift from Catelyn for your last birthday, as you needed a new gown to show off how you have become a woman. It was accentuated with a white belt that matched the snow that often fell on this place. Your hair was styled upwards, with many pins keeping it up. A couple of splashes of cold water on the face to bring out a natural flush was all that you needed, and you were ready to descend and wait with your family for the King to come.

As you left your chamber, you came face to face with Jon. His hair was pushed back out of his face and held with a bit of wax, styled nicely for the occasion. “Heading down?” He asked. You nodded, closing your door behind you, as a lady’s room should only be seen by her and her chambermaids.

“You look nice, Jon,” You said, taking in the fur coat, and his dark and sparkling eyes. It wasn’t the first time that you had complimented him and it was unlikely to be the last.

“You do too, y/n.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips. “Shall we go down together?”

“I’d like that,” You nodded. It would be improper for you to hold hands, or even to link arms, so you had to settle for walking by his side. Everyone else must already be lined up outside for there was not a soul to be seen inside of the castle. The staff must be working on the feast that would be served tonight, for even they could not be found. “I suppose we’re going to have to be kissing the rear of the King and Queen the whole time they’re here, aren’t we?” You said, making a joke. You were at least comfortable doing that, since you had been doing it since you were a child. Jon let out a surprised chuckle, clearly not expecting that.

“I suppose we are,” He said. “Just don’t let Dad hear you say that.”

“Or Catelyn.” You said with a shudder.

You might have been taken in as one of the Starks but you noticed that Jon had not. The word ‘Bastard’ had been thrown around a lot, and when you found out what it meant, you couldn’t understand how it was an insult. More than once you had witnessed Catelyn being rude to Jon, and had asked her why, but she never gave you a good answer. It just made Jon all the more endearing.

“Definitely not,” He agreed. “The dress - it’s very nice.”

“Thank you,” You said, smoothing down the front of it. You didn’t have any more time to talk, for you reached the front gates, and went to your respective positions. You were beside Theon as the Ward, while Jon hung even further back. You kept looking his way though, because he did look good today. And you could have sworn that he was looking right back at you. Your cheeks stayed pink, not because of the cold water from earlier, nor because of the chill in the air.

You had a bit too much wine during dinner. You felt the eyes of Cersei on you more than once, and felt an almost jealousy coming off of her. You had asked Catelyn about it when you had a moment alone, and your motherly figure assured you that it was because she took a dislike to any beautiful young woman who might catch her husband’s eye. You shuddered at the thought of the King thinking that you were beautiful, or trying to seduce you. “I may just go on a stroll before bed, I’m feeling a bit warm,” You told her. She nodded, and sent you on your way.

On one of the open walkways that looked out at the courtyard, you paused as you thought you saw some drunk nobles stumbling back home. It was hilarious to watch so you leaned against the short wall and watched.

“It’s getting a little cold,” Jon Snow’s voice said after a couple of minutes. He joined you, standing a short distance away and leaned over to watch as well.

“I’m still feeling a bit warm,” You admitted. “I might have had a little too much wine,” You finished this with a giggle, further proving your point.

“I was watching,” He said with a chuckle of his own. “You seemed to be uneasy. Are you alright?”

“You know what - I’m not great!” You announced, turning to face him. “I was hoping that this visit would be smooth sailing, but Joffrey seemed like a -”

“Keep your voice down,” Jon whispered, but you carried on.

“-a not very nice boy, the King does not act at all proper, and the Queen dearest was staring at me, no, more like, glaring at me! And do you know why she was staring at me? Because she saw me as a threat to her husband. How outrageous is that?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s outrageous,” Jon said, but you continued on before he could say too much more.

“As if I would ever want to sit on the lap of that man, like the loose women do. Oh yes My King, the smell of roasted mutton does suit you very well! Oh no my King, that tunic doesn’t make you look like a wild boar at all!”

Jon quickly put his hand over your mouth, and dragged you back to the stone wall, out of the ear shot of anyone who might be listening below. “Keep your voice down! You could be killed for saying some of those things!”

“Let them kill me then. Show them that I am owned by...” You noticed at that moment just how close to you Jon was, and that his hand was still lingering quite close to your mouth. It made you feel even warmer, having him near. Your eyes were on his, steam from both of your breaths meshing together in the small space between you two. “No one,” You said, a lot softer than before. “Jon? I - I might be a little drunk from the wine, but there’s something I want to tell you.”

“I have to tell you something too,” He said with a short sigh. But he didn’t move back. You were against the wall, feeling the cold stones against the thin fabric of your dress. Your hair was coming undone from the style that you had put it in, and thin tendrils were descending towards your shoulders.

“I want to say it first,” You said. Jon lowered his hand from where it was and nodded. But he was ready to cover your mouth once more if you said anything bad about the King and his family, no matter how warranted it was. “I’ll never belong to anyone, Jon Snow,” You breathed heavily. “Unless it is you who would have me.”

Jon studied you for a second. You couldn’t read his eyes. You were starting to grow light headed and rested even more against the back wall, nervous for his reaction.

“You’ve had a lot to drink tonight, perhaps we should speak in the morrow.”

“Don’t you dare do that,” You said, pushing him away from you now. Being close to him didn’t seem like it was as good an idea as it had before. “I’ve been in love with you since I was a child. Since I can remember. And if you don’t feel the same way, then that is fine, I can accept that. I hope that you find someone who makes you happy. But don’t you dare tell me that I’m lying. Or that I’m only saying it because I had too much to drink. If anything, the wine gave me the courage!”

Jon took your push quite easily, barely taking two steps back. He still remained quiet, as stoic as ever. It was lucky that you had learned how to wait for him. He had to rub his two brain cells together before coming up with what to say. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Well? Either break my heart or make it whole, I do not much care wish, as long as you say something.”

That was a lie, you did care. You cared very much. But you needed an answer. Your heart was beating so quickly in your chest, you could feel it throughout your whole body.

“I love you, y/n Dayne,” Jon Snow told you. That was all that you needed. The alcohol did the rest. You closed the distance, throwing your arms around his fur-lined shoulders and kissed him with all of your might. It was a bit hard, a little messy, tasted like leftover dinner and wine but it was an amazing kiss nonetheless. One that you had dreamt about on more than one occasion. A warmth spread from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Jon’s arms went around your waist, hugging you close. When you finally had to breathe, you stepped back, your eyes wide and awestruck at what had just happened.

“You love me! Then we must tell your father, Jon. Perhaps he may let us wed! He tried to make matches for me in the past but I refused them all because the only person that I could picture being with is you. If he’s in a good mood, he may just say yes!”

“I cannot wed,” Jon said, the happiness that he had been feeling slid off of his face. You’ve never seen him look more sorrowful in all of your life. You took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

“If it’s because you’re a bastard, you know that I don’t care. And neither does your father. We might get some opposition from Catelyn but if it really all that bad, we can run away! Take different names! Live as if we are a married couple. The Gods would surely forgive us.”

“I didn’t come here to tell you that I love you,” Jon said, turning away. “I wish that you said nothing.”

“How can you be so cruel?” Now it was your turn to have your happiness disappear. “That’s the most heartless thing that I have heard you say. Were you just lying to me now? Mocking my feelings?”

“No!” Jon said, squeezing your hand. “I could never lie to you. You know me too well. You were always able to catch me.”

“And don’t you forget it,” You said, pointing your finger at him. You saw in his eyes that he was telling the truth. He felt the same way that you did. “So why can’t we get married? Why do you wish that I had said nothing?”

Jon let go of you, and ran his fingers through his hair, the wax melting away and the curls parting beneath his touch. He looked at you once more than looked away. He couldn’t say it to your face, which made you realize that whatever it was.. it was terrible. “Just tell me, Jon. Just tell me now,” You whispered.

“I’m going up north, to the wall. I’ve pledged myself to the Knight’s Watch. I’m leaving as soon as soon as I’m able.” Jon told you, still facing away.

You stared. And you stared. And you stared.

All of those good feelings that you had dissipated entirely. Now you felt cold. You felt raw. You felt as if you had been skinned and then salted.

“You were going to leave without telling me how you feel?” You asked, feeling glued to the floor. You couldn’t walk away from this conversation as much as you would like to. It had sobered you up quickly. “No - you have gotten better at lying, Jon Snow,” You whipped your hand away from his as quickly as possible, hiding it behind your back so he could not snatch it again. “Because I can’t see it in your eyes, but you cannot possibly love me. If you did, you wouldn’t bear the thought of leaving me, because that’s how I feel about you. I would have followed you anywhere, you know that, but you are going somewhere that I cannot go.”

Jon opened his mouth to say something but then closed it. The hallway was filled with a heavy silence until you broke it again. You shook your head at him, and walked backwards. “I wish I never cared for you, I wish I never met you.”

And with that, you tuned on your heel and went to your bedroom, locking the door behind you with a chair so that no one could possibly come in. You threw off your silly, frivilous gown and let it lie on the bed without you hanging it up properly. You crawled under the covers with it still there, and let your tears guide you to sleep.

Until the day that Jon left, you didn’t say a word to him. You refused to be in his presence unless it was absolutely necessary. And the worst part was - people had started to notice. Sansa had even left her ‘Joffrey’ mind-state to ask you if you and Jon had gotten into a fight, and if she should tell her mother.

“No - he’s leaving soon, and then things will get better,” You assured her, though you were not too sure of that yourself. Jon did sometimes linger near a doorway while you were in the room, such as in the library when you took your lessons with the maester, but otherwise, it was hard to spot him anywhere. He kept to himself, packing his things and preparing for his journey.

When he was about to set off, you were in your room, watching from the window. He was packing up the horse that he was taking, with the youngest Lannister going with him - Tyrion. He looked up and caught your eye, but you turned away and ducked against your wall so he could not see your tears. Despite the best efforts of the maids, your gown was in wrinkles on the bed. May Catelyn forgive you for this for you would never forgive yourself if you did not.

Using your sewing scissors, you cut the high neck off of the gown, knowing you could fix the hem later. With it flying between your fingers, you ran out of your room and descended down the stairs, nearly tripping over the stupid long skirt that you were wearing. You rushed out into the courtyard to see Jon getting onto the horse, slipping his feet into the stirrups.

“Wait!” You called out, hair flowing loose behind you since you had not intended to leave your bedchamber today. Jon steadied the horse but did not hop off. He had those sad eyes again, the look he’d had since you two had talked in the hallway. You approached slower this time, not wanting to startle the horse, and lifted up the fabric for him to take. “Please - don’t forget about me.”

Jon did take it, running the fabric through his fingers. He lifted it to his face and took a deep breath of it - it smelled of you still. “I never could, y/n,” He said your name tenderly.

The rest of his company grew restless to the point where he was tutted at. “If we want to make good time, we must leave now,” Tyrion said from inside of his carriage.

You pleaded with Jon through eyes alone, begging for him not to go. It wasn’t too late for him to change his mind, he could get off of his horse, he could stay here with you...

But he didn’t. Instead, he tied the piece of fabric around his wrist. “It’s for the best, y/n,” He said, turning his horse around so he could no longer see you. Evading you, more like.

“For whom?” You asked. You were given no answer in return, just the sound of the horse neighing as it trotted it’s way towards the gate and away from you. You stood there until he was out of sight, and then an hour more, willing it with all of your heart that he would turn back and you would see him galloping his way back towards you.

But nay. Night came along and the weather became frosty, forcing you inside, forcing you to change the way you thought of your life for if the man who claimed he loved you ran away ... well, you had a lot of thinking to do.

#Jon Snow #Jon Snow x reader #Jon Snow oneshot #Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones oneshot #GOT #GOT oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #oneshots #one shots #jons

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vangoghmusings · 4 years ago

Text

a/n: hello! i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now since im a huge astrology nerd (so i know what im talking about teehee) so this is male match-ups according to sign and compatibility. this isn’t my usual kind of writing so i hope you guys like it!! <3 if you don’t know your sign check here

this took me so long oh my god i hope you guys like it

taglist: @mixfi @lilacskyura @katsuhoee @moonlightinsanity @anime-waifuuu @iiminibattlehero @leeeah-loooser @bby-chloe1999 @verymuchbabey @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that@unknownweeabo @cookednoodlez @helloshoutohere @star-mum @izuku-sakura @thegalxe

UA STUDENTS

Katsuki Bakugou- April 20; Taurus

the absolute SHOCK in my face to learn he wasn’t an aries

it would be expected that katsuki is a fire sign, like cmon look at his quirk

but taurus is actually an earth sign

taurus are typically seen as quite calm, but,,

katsuki does seem like a true taurus in many ways

they can be stubborn and unwilling to compromise

they are very realistic

HATE FEELING INSECURE

they are often great at cooking and love to shop

i feel like katsuki isn’t a self indulgent shopper but would buy anything for his s/o

taurus are really good at working with their hands ;)

theyre soft romantic bbs and as much as katsuki hates being vulnerable he’d definetly be a softie with his s/o

id match katsuki with a calm pisces

Izuku Midoria- July 15; Cancer

i am not shocked at ALL to see that the lil broccoli boy is a cancer

like cmon he’s so sensitive

he is a cancer to the T

he’s loyal, emotional, imaginative

he also carries the negative traits of many cancers

such as feeling insecure and having difficulty taking criticism

i mean the kid breaks his bones to prove others wrong

cancers love being with their friends and family

and they love helping others

the career of a hero would be natural for cancers

cancers are such sweet babies and izuku fits right into that category

i would match izuku with a chill taurus

Tenya Iida- August 22; Leo

i didn’t expect tenya to be a leo but im also not surprised

leos are often seen as flashy and arrogant

but they’re more than their stereotype

leos are passionate and natural born leaders

like cmon class rep!

tenya being a leo makes a lot of sense

he’s generous and kind and always strives for the best

they tend to be a bit dramatic, and tenya can be too

being that leos are a fire sign they gravitate to self growth

this can be seen in tenya wanting to improve and challenging himself

leos struggle facing harsh realities, similarly to tenya when he learned about what happened to tensei

leos are known for their bravery and tenya fits right in

i would match tenya with a kind aquarius

Shoto Todoroki- January 11; Capricorn

i practically screamed when i realized shoto was a capricorn

it just makes way too much sense

they’re responsible, well-mannered, respectful !!!!

HOW IS HE SO HOT AND RESPECTFUL

capricorns i just,, i love them, truly

shoto is no exception

they love family, things of quality, traditions

and their dislikes vary from day to day

why?

cause they’re iconic thats why

however, capricorns aren’t always the nicest

they tend to be condescending and can often come off as rude

they’re incredibly unforgiving *ahem endeavor ahem*

but, its because they just have naturally high standards

it makes sense that he is an earth sign because he’s super grounded

because saturn rules capricorn, the tend to seem cold and distant at times

but they are incredibly loyal friends and always strive for the best

i would match shoto with a down to earth cancer

Mashiro Ojiro- May 28; Gemini

i must admit, i was surprised to learn ojiro is a gemini

but if you really look at his character it makes a lot of sense

gemini’s have a bad rep of being too faced

they’re actually one of my favorite signs!!

gemini’s are are gentle and affectionate

and sweet bb ojiro is exactly that

however they also tend to be quite anxious, another thing ojiro happens to be at times as well

they’re very adaptable people

this can be seen throughout ojiro’s training and how much he learns and is willing to continue striving for

gemini’s are very sociable and will talk to almost anyone

like, he doesn’t see hagakure but they’re still good friends

this is why i think ojiro would do great with a fire sign

i would match ojiro with a cheerful sagittarius

Denki Kaminari- June 29; Cancer

alright cancer number two!!

to be honest, denki doesn’t really give cancer vibes

but, his personality traits align to much of what a cancer is

tenacious and loyal

and denki is definitely that

however, cancers can be suspicious of others and their actions

and denki feels like the kind of guy to snoop on somebody

but we gotta give denki some credit

cancers strive to be there for their friends no matter what

denki shows this in the usj attack when he protects momo and jiro

cancers tend to avoid conflict but even so, they search for conflict in those who pose bigger threats to them

similarly to when denki makes fun of bakugou even though he could totally blow him up

denki is a chatty and flirty baby

and cancers tend to be most compatible with earth signs

buuut i think denki would be better suited with a fire sign

i’d match denki with an outgoing aries

Hanta Sero- July 28; Leo

at first i was like hmmm no

but then i used my brain and i was like actually yes

leos are prideful and while sero doesn’t seem like the boastful kind, he does have a lot of pride in himself

leos are very committed to their goals and sero’s actions show his dedication to becoming a hero

leos are also so funny?? and sero is literally one of the funniest guys of 1A

sero is one of the most sociable in the class and a total class clown

leos are almost always seen with their friends and sero is no different

sero’s vibes are just immaculate in my opinions

so his s/o needs to match the energy

i would match sero with a funny gemini

Eijiro Kirishima- October 16; Libra

GOD IT JUST MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

I CANT EVEN EXPRESS

THE ACCURACY

ok ok but seriously, of course kiri is a libra

libras are diplomatic, fair, and strive for justice

aka being MANLY is in the stars for bb kiri

however, libras aren’t the most confident people

they’re quite insecure and pity themselves a’lot

which makes sense that its canon that it took kiri so long to accept his quirk

have you ever wondered why kiri is so hot and cute and perfect?

ITS BECAUSE HES A LIBRA

im not even kidding

libras are known for being physically attractive

i mean libra is literally ruled by venus

who else is venus?

APHRODITE AKA THE GODDESS OF LOVE

long story short, kiri is the god of love

libras hate being alone

why do you think he puts up with bakugou constantly calling him shitty hair and pushing him around?

i considered putting kiri with a water sign but they’re kinda babies (no offense i love my water signs)

but i don’t think he could handle a person who is constantly emotional like many water signs are

i would match kiri with a kind-hearted sagittarius

Hitoshi Shinso- July 1; Cancer

jesus christ ANOTHER CANCER??

i cant even be upset cause it makes sense

while i would’ve thought shinso was a calm scorpio or a relaxde picses

he fits much better as a cancer

as mentioned previously with deku and denki, cancers really do have a heart of gold and just want to help people

cancers are also very manipulative people

i mean, look at this mans quirk

cancers are also moody and pessimistic

characteristics that shinsou has but are seen more as stoic and quiet

but cancers are also sympathetic

and bb shinsou is a softie i just know it

cancers are guided by emotion

like deku, he is seen as passionate for his desire to be a hero, even though his quirk is seen to be one of evil

shinsou needs to be with someone who’s willing to listen when he opens up (which cancers hate doing)

i would match shinsou with an understanding taurus

Tamaki Amajiki- March 1; Aries

HUH

HUUUUH???

youre telling me this man is an aries and bakugou isnt??

i need to collect my thoughts

OK so tamaki is an aries

and honestly its pretty accurate

most times aries are seen as passionate in a reckless and angry manner

but tamaki’s passion is displayed in his dedication to being a hero

i mean he’s literally in the big 3

aries tend to be moody, which is seen in tamaki’s shy actions

but they’re also enthusiastic and courageous

tamaki’s courage is shown in the mission to rescue eri

aries are seen as intimidating and tamaki’s dark features are exactly that

and while he is very shy, he needs someone to help bring him out of his shell delicately

id match tamaki with a gentle libra

Mirio Togata- July 15; Cancer

whats up with mirio and deku sharing the same bday doe

this is way too many cancers

BUT mirio is such a cancer lets be real

we’ve covered the basics of cancers

sensitive

loyal

will do anything for others

and most importantly brave

the sign of a cancer is a crab

the crab symbolizes someone who doesn’t realize their great strength

mirio is the personification of the strength of the crab

and poor baby has gone through so much and deserves the world

he’s so cheerful but he needs someone to be there for him when he’s at his most emotional moments

i would match mirio with a tender capricorn

PRO-HEROES

Shota Aizawa- November 8; Scorpio

i mean cmon

ofc dadzawa is a scorpio

he’s the image of a stereotypical scorpio

dark features, dark clothing, serious and kinda rude

but scorpios get a bad rep for being meanies (we should be watching out for virgos tho) (jk jk i love my virgos <3)

but scorpios have some of the best characteristics

their loyalty is beyond words

they would literally lay down their life for a friend or the good of others

scorpios are passionate and assertive, and this side of aizawa definitely comes out

aizawa is so stoic he needs somebody to soften him up

i would match aizawa with a cheery cancer

Hizashi Yamada- July 7; Cancer

another f*cking cancer

AND IT MAKES SENSE

not just because aizawa and him are married and he’s a cancer and it totally makes sense

but hizashi is such a cancer oh my god

he’s sensitive, and caring, and brave, and a literal pro hero

which is a cancer living the dream

cancers often have difficult childhoods and struggle immensely to find outlets

this fits with the theory that as a child, hizashi was put up for adoption and/or muzzled as a child because of his powerful quirk

cancers are ruled by the moon, which would make sense to why they are so emotional

because the moon goes through phases, so do they

hizashi needs someone that would help him be strong outside of his hero work and for his own mentality

i would match hizashi with (aizawa or) a charismatic virgo

Toshinori Yagi- June 10; Gemini

ofc all might is a gemini

he literally has 2 forms

and geminis are literally two faced

it makes so much sense that the symbol of peace is a gemini

he’s adaptable and a quick learner

geminis are affectionate and you cant tell me toshi isn’t the biggest cuddler and softie in the world

geminis are people pleasers and just want to make others happy

and all might’s literal thing is smiling to comfort those in fear

toshi needs someone who is understanding of what he had gone through as a retired hero and the bearer of one for all

i would match toshi with an inquisitive aquarius

Keigo Takami- December 28; Capricorn

DADDY

ok but he is such a capricorn its not even funny

he’s a cocky know-it-all kind of capricorn

but he’s also a responsible and well mannered capricorn

capricorns are people who are willing to take on immense responsibilities

and hawks is literally the no. 2 hero so of course he’s got a lot of responsibilities

because he’s an earth sign, we wants to get the most out of what the world has to offer him

including fame and money

but hawk’s head strong and professional attitude is what comforts people and makes him such a great hero

he needs someone who would match his energy well

i would match keigo with a level-headed scorpio

VILLAINS

Dabi- January 18; Aquarius

FINALLY AN AQUARIUS

i have a deep love for this sign

dabi is an aquarius and it is so accurate

aquarius love to fight for a cause

in dabi’s eyes, the league of villains is the best cause he can support

and he’s at the front lines

they’re considered humanitarians,,and dabi is in his own “special way”

aquarius love a good conspiracy and mystery

and dabi is a total mystery

aquarius constantly have to be stimulated and doing something

otherwise their boredom can lead to reckless actions

they are also anti all emotions

this is why they seem so aloof, they don’t know how to confront their own feelings

i’d pair dabi up with someone who is willing to listen to him and hopefully allow him to open up

i would match dabi with a charming sagittarius

Tomura Shigaraki- April 4; Aries

now this is a stereotypical aries

aries is ruled by mars, which was named after aries

AKA THE GOD OF WAR??

like his literal goal is to destroy society,,

aries love to be in leadership roles

they’re also short-tempered

impulsive

and aggressive

how ever, his more “positive” traits such as determination and passion are also evident in his characteristics

they’re competitive people and tomura definitely is one

tomura would need to be with someone who is calm

i would match tomura with a patient leo

Kai Chisaki- Birthdate Unknown;NA

so kai’s sign is unknown

BUT

he still deserves a match up

besides his stance in villainy

kai as actually very well mannered and polite

but he doesn’t value human life and sees his as more important and pure than those who are “sick”

a lot of his characteristics would lead me to believe he is an unevolved sociopathic capricorn

outside of being a villain i would match kai with someone who was understanding and a good listener

i would match kai with a sympathetic pisces

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years ago

Note

Ok I have one !!! Imagine Kai having to take care of his son all alone because SO is out of town visiting family or something, it would be so awkward and cute ❤️

I did this once but Kaito was just a baby ^^

Now, as much as he appreciate his son being quiet for once... this situation was also leaving him a bit... moody.

You, again, had to leave due to your family... and just like the other time, he was left to take care of his son, whose now had already 2 years.

Kaito was everthing but a quiet kid, but when you left, he losed that little sparkle of energy and just stayed quiet most of the time, trying to draw something as his face remained stoic... just like his father.

This was bothering him for a while now, and he demanded that Chrono took him out to distract his head as he burried himself onto work.

Kai and Kaito had their own and different ways to deal their missing of you...

But when Kurono came back with his still sad son he was both pissed at his childhood friend for not helping the slightest and concerned.

Maybe he was sick? God forbids that...

He suddenly placed his gloved hand at his son forehead as he played on the ground, a tiny yelp coming at his son for consequebce of his actions.

"...Da?"

"No fever. Thank god." He sighed in relief before sitting on the couch, his son looking up at him with serious eyes but wonded evidently on it.

"Mad?" He shook his head in response at his son question, hand on his clothed mouth as he was lost on thinking.

"Mama home today?" He sighed out loud before groaning a response.

"Is 'is mother coming back home today?' brat, and no. Not today." The kid hummed but he noticed the hint of dissapointment and sadness on his son's eyes as he poked his toy.

"... what do you want to do?" The kid looked back at him confusedly "What do you want that will wipe that..." he pointed at his son with his palm " defeated expression of yours."

The kid tilted his head with a 'huh?', as he deadpanned.

Kids aren't supposed to be that slow to understand him.

"I know you miss your mother Kaito. But she will not be back for at least another day, so what will make you at least more at ease? Less.. sad, than you are right now?"

The kid looked up at his father from the carpet before he got up from the ground and went towards him, grabbing onto his pants as he looked up.

"Up! Up!"

"... Are you serious?" He glared at his son whose still was saying the same word countless times.

The first time Kaito did this he seriously looked up to see if it was something on the ceiling before he deadpanned when he saw you picking him up on your arms.

"It doesn't cost much to say the whole sentence I swear-"

"Kai he only has two years..."

So by now he knew what his son meant... but why? Why out of all things had to be this?

"Anything else?" He asked as his son stubbornly shocked his head, chirping another 'up!'

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh before he took only last glare down at his son.

"I despise you and your clinging habbits brat." He muttered before picking his giggling son on his gloved hands awkwardly, placing him right on his lap to be facing him.

"Luckily you showered just when you got back..." he growled before he felt a tug on his shirt "What now?"

The kid giggled again, pushing himself up to be now standing up to his feet on his father's lap as he tried to touch the piercing on Kai's left ear.

Key word: tried.

"No. Hands off." He said monotonously before he grabbed his son tiny wrist and putted it back on his side.

The little half demon just giggled harder and went to touch his other ear, laughing at his father's face when he prevented it again.

"What's even so humurous about thi-?" He blocked another time his son's chubby hands at going to touch his piercings "Kaito stop."

"Nah!" The kid went again, miserably having now both of his wrist caged on his father's hand.

"'No' for you mister. When I say no is a order."

The kid poked his tongue out in response and his eye twitched before he flipped his son's nose without thinking.

The kid went wide eyed before he slowly bringed his chubby hand at his nose, botttom lip suddenly trembling.

Oh shit.

"Kaito, it wasn't even that-" the kid sniffled and he knew he really fucked up.

"Kaito come on is not that bad, listen don't need to-" his son started to whine while his (E/c) eyes were slowly turning pink.

He panicked and got up, Kaito on his arms as he still tried to talk with him.

"No no no. Here, brat. Listen, don't need to cry okay? I will give you anything in exchange. Kaito listen to me." He groaned as son as he saw the first tears coming out of his son eyes.

HE DIDN'T USED ANY STRENGTH OF HIS ON THAT FLIP COME ON!

He growled mentally before sitting down again and picking Kaito's hand, which was on his cheek, and brought to his pierced ear in a act of desperation.

"There." He growled and visibly relaxed at seing his son possible outburst was fading away as the toddler noticed where his hand was.

The kid went from crying to a happy giggly one in mere seconds as he rouched his father's piercings.

"You did that on purpose. I just know it. Damn half demon that looks more like one hundred per cent..." he growled as he clenched his jaw at feeling his son's hand on his ear.

The kid accidentally pushed a bit too hard making him grunt, immediately retreating his hand away with a pout.

"Sowwy."

" 'Apologies or Sorry' Kaito." He sighed in annoyance "And I guess that this one I deserve it for flipping your nose..." the kid giggled before yawning.

"Huh. Passed your bedtime and I didn't even saw it." He surpressed a yawn of his own as he got up with the boy on his arms.

"No sleep!" The kid protested, rubbing one of his eyes.

"You just yawned brat. A sign that your body is demanding rest, so you will rest."

"Noo!" The squirmed in his father's strong arms as he was carried through the halls "Mama will be here! Wanna stay awake!"

He stopped on his tracks in shock at seing his son's confession, softening his gaze just a bit at him.

"... then we will wait for her in my bedroom then. This way you brat will sleep but still can wait for her."

"Will not sleep! Dada will sleep!" He pointed at Kai's face with a smirk "'Cause he is old! Old people sleep more!"

"Old your nose brat, how dare you?" He growled before literally throing his son on his bed, rolling his eyes in false annoyance with his laughing.

Pops walked down the halls and noticed your figurine frozen cold on the entrance of your and Kai's bedroom, both hands covering your mouth.

"(Y/N) my dear, welcome back." He said with a smirk before arching one of his eyebrows as you shushed him quietly.

"Don't make too many noise, they might wake up." You whispered before mentioning with your hand for him to come closer and take a look.

The moment he layed his eyes on his sucessor, sleeping on the bed; without one of his dammed mask on; with Kaito on his chest as one gloved hand rested on the boy's back, tiny body rising in falling in synchrony with Chisaki's breathing; he swore his jaw could have broken the floor from the way it had fallen in surprise.

"Please my dear daughter in law, go into my office and grab one camera. This is just more precious and rare than gold and diamonds." Hs chuckled quietly as you finished taking pictures with your cellphone.

"Huh? You're planning to..?"

"Print the photo and frame it? Absolutely. Considers this a gift for both me and you."

He chuckled at the speed you used to go into his office as hs took a glance at the still asleep dark brow haired...

Again, he thanked the heavens that Kai didn't lost all of his humanity... better yet, still are on the path he teached him but also got to find a bit of peacefulness and happiness.

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years ago

Text

Which Malek Twin is Better in Bed: An Experiment; Part Two

@theultraviolencefan

Word Count: 9500. This is a big boy.

This is Sami’s part but there may be some bonus Rami. I did the best I could. Sorry this took so long but I had some struggles. Special shout-out to @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, and @breadnbutternips for your input, guidance, suggestions, and overall support. I swear I wouldn’t keep writing if it wasn’t for you wonderful ladies. <3 I love you all.

Warnings: Protected/Unprotected Sex, Slightly dom-ish behavior, alcohol consumption referenced, some fluff, some self-indulgent random sort of Pride & Prejudice references.

Part One ( H E R E )

You’d been in a fantastic mood since Tuesday night and the people you were closest too had definitely taken notice. Currently you didn’t possess the ability to stop laughing, singing and dancing around playfully and you could thank Rami for that. The entire experience with him had rocked your world in ways that you could never imagine. According to some of your other friends you’d been wound a little tight as of late, and the intensely amazing orgasms Rami had given you had left you a lot more relaxed.

When the boys both texted you and asked if you wanted to meet them for brunch you had happily accepted. You joked that it had been a stroke of luck that you all wanted to enjoy the weather on the outdoor patio and there were no other patrons choosing to do the same.

Your jovial mood was more than obvious at your brunch meet up with twins that Friday because the state you were in had been a topic of conversation on and off for the last half hour. The only damper on the mood had been that Rami was acting a little out of character today. He was still your happy friend; smiling, laughing, and cracking his smart ass jokes but whenever tomorrow came up, he withdrew a little bit his smile definitely turning into a slight frown.

You were determined to not allow his odd behavior to dictate your mood at this point so you’d just continue to smile and laugh at the witty banter between the two men. It was an ongoing inside joke that the two of them should have a stand-up routine. Whenever they were together around you, you were always in stitches at their antics. The fame had not changed Rami in that way even though he is a lot more guarded now than he used to be.

“Damn bro what did you do to her?” Sami jokes, taking another bite of his sandwich. .

“Nothing out of the ordinary, other than prove that I can fuck her better than you can," Rami says wearing a proudly smug look on his face.

“I guess I’m going to have to up my game for tomorrow then,” Sami shoots back and Rami frowns so slightly you almost missed it.

He must have noticed you silently observing him because he reaches down grabbing a fry from his plate, popping into his mouth and shooting you a wink.You sat back and watched him chew, then swallow, before his gorgeous eyes found yours as he began inquiring about how you were feeling about tomorrow.

"So, YN, are you looking forward to your date with my brother tomorrow?" Rami asks. You felt as if the question was a little odd and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why the hell he’d want to know this information.

"Of course I am Ram. Just as excited as I was before our date. Why? Am I not supposed to be?"

“I don’t know YN. You aren’t feeling any kind of apprehension at all? Nervousness?”

“Ram, I. I don’t know how I feel. Excited for sure, maybe a little nervous. It’s not an easy decision to have relations with someone and still come out of it just friends. Why? Do you want me to be nervous or something? Is this some kind of trick question?”

Uncertain as to what was happening to you internally; the more Rami questions, the more anxious you start to feel about this whole thing.

“Did you want me to call this whole thing off Ram? It isn’t fair to your brother though, is it? That you got to fuck me but he didn’t. I thought the whole fucking point of this thing was to figure out once and for all which one of you was better in bed?! I’m not backing away from the challenge, that if I remember correctly I was hesitant to agree to because I am terrified that this whole ‘experiment’ will irrevocably damage our long standing friendship. I can’t help but feel like I’m being interrogated or something; I’ve committed no crime.” you say a little more sharply than you actually intended.

Your eyes try to scan his face for some read on what he could be thinking.

“I just thought that maybe you’d be nervous is all,” he half-whispers, eyes cast downward clearly internally struggling to make sense of something.

“I am! Jesus H Christ. Rami I was so nervous Tuesday night that I almost called the whole thing off. I love you both and I would never want to jeopardize our friendship over a fuck.”

Something you’d said must have set him off because his lips formed a hard line and he pushed away from the table with such force that the metal cafe chairs you were all seated in made a cacophonous racket against the concrete. You watch him take a deep breath and stand up, pushing his chair toward the table a little more forcefully than he may have intended. You watch in confusion as he tosses his napkin down next to his plate that holds his barely touched food before he wordlessly walks away, you assume towards the bathrooms.

"Sam did I do or say something wrong?" you ask on the verge of tears.

“No YN, I don’t think you did. Sometimes he just-he is moody that’s all. I think maybe this new project that he’s been prepping for may be exacting a toll on him and his stress is coming out in some form of misplaced anger or something. I just call him Mr. Moody when he gets like this. Perhaps it’s an actor thing? I don’t really know,” came his response with a slight smirk. You were definitely not prepared to deal with the asshole-ish behavior this morning. Irritation begins to settle in and you wanted to slap that famous Malek smirk right off of Sami’s face just as badly as you wanted to smack Rami in the side of his head for acting like a jerk.

"I know, I've dealt with him before when he gets like this," you retort with a sigh. Rami is definitely more high strung and sometimes dealing with him during role prep can be emotionally exhausting for everyone around him. Everyone knows about his level of dedication and commitment to performing as authentically as possible, which meant that everyone just dealt with his affectionately dubbed ‘role prep insanity.’

Taking a few deep breaths of your own you come to the decision of ‘fuck him,’ if he wants to be an ass then you’d let him but you were going to try your best to not let him dictate your mood any further. Sami and you continue eating and making casual conversation until Rami comes back, wearing a stoic expression, the Malek poker face and he isn't very verbose. The one thing that you couldn't miss were his eyes; red and puffy as if he'd been crying. He undoubtedly could feel your eyes on him when you caught his gaze, he managed a small strained smile and then pulled his sunglasses from atop his head down his nose as he settled them in place on his perfect face.

For the most part the remainder of brunch passed almost amicably with the two of them, everyone deluded into believing that there hadn’t been any issue in the first place. Rami did keep his sunglasses firmly in place which carefully guarded his expressive eyes and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was attempting to use them as a diversion, a mask, or some kind of shield.

Conversation flowed easily enough after Rami had ordered himself a few more mimosas, which were an indulgence he’d never openly admit to . He became quite animated and excitable as he began to talk to the both of you about his latest project, the one he was leaving for on Sunday.on he did speak it was openly about the latest project that he was leaving for on Sunday. You’d never tire of watching him discuss his upcoming projects, the excitement that radiates from him is contagious making everyone else around him share that energy. You highly suspect that’s why people enjoy working with him so much; the little bean was always a ball of high energy enthusiasm, he attacks everything with every bit of skill he has.

The happy mood that had tentatively settled over the table quickly dissipated once Sami brought up his plans for tomorrow and it pained you to watch as Rami completely shut down. He stopped talking and sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He honestly reminded you of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, like Rami did once when you were six and he was being forced to eat the three pieces of broccoli that had been served to him. The moment the waitress reappeared holding the large black envelope that contained the check Rami just wordlessly handed her his credit card.

You could feel his eyes on you as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You couldn't help feeling as if you'd done something wrong and you found yourself fighting back tears. In all the years that you’d know the Malek twins neither of them had ever made you feel the kind of uncomfortable that you were feeling now. Neither of them had ever been a reason for you to cry and you’d be damned if you let that happen now.

Pushing back from the table so quickly that the heavy metal chair nearly tipped over, you shot to your feet and rapidly muttered out,"I guess, ummm, if you've got this, thank you Rami for brunch. I appreciate it very much and I’m excited for you and your project. Sami, I’ll see you tomorrow and Ram I hope you’re in a better mood on Sunday.”

With a nod of your head towards each of the boys, you turned on your heel and exited the restaurant hurriedly. Fishing your keys out of your purse and unlocking your car door you slowly release the breath that you’d been unaware you were holding.

Why was Rami acting like that? Was he jealous? Confusion wracking your brain as you attempt to try and puzzle out Rami and his moods. The man's mood swings were legendary but you chalk all that up as one of the reasons he’s such an incredibly talented actor, but they could give you whiplash sometimes.

Settling back at home trying to get the confusing Rami thoughts out of your head you resort to the one thing that had always helped clear your mind. You scrubbed every inch of your house from top to bottom. After all was said and done, the house shining with absolute perfection and reeking of the oversaturated ‘tropical’ floral scents you favored in your cleaning products, you settle on your sofa after a hot shower with some shitty leftover Chinese takeout and even shittier television.

Sami sent you a very succinct text early Saturday morning to let you know that he’d be over to pick you up around noon time promising you a quiet picnic in the park. Sami was never jealous of his brother's success or his brother's money, but sometimes you got the feeling that the two of them were constantly competing in a weird way with each other. He was well aware that his brother had wined and dined you at one of the poshest restaurants in town. Sami couldn’t afford a place like that and you both knew it, and you’d never hold him the same bar his brother had set. He knew you just as well as Rami did, and he knew that you actually favored the small, quiet type of dates. Rami had only chosen the type of date that he had for the simple fact that his rise to fame did not afford him the luxury of anonymity anymore and maintaining his privacy was becoming increasingly more difficult in the digital age of instant uploads and ‘peeping Toms’.

FIdgeting nervously with the buttons on your light cardigan feeling the familiar sort of butterflies in your stomach feeling that you’d had prior to your date with Rami, you nearly jump out of your skin when the doorbell rang out loudly. You couldn’t help the small timid smile as you swung the door open to a beaming Sami. He looked so adorable standing there in some dark, tight fitting jeans and a t-shirt with a large blanket draped over his shoulder and an old school style picnic basket in the crook of his left elbow.

"Ready?" he asks confidently as he reaches out to grab your hand.

"Let's go Sami, let's go,"you tell him through your timid smile.

You knew you wouldn’t be gone long but you let go of his hand for a few moments to lock your front door. While your neighborhood was considered quite safe and there wasn’t a lot of crime in your housing area, this was still Los Angeles and you weren’t going to take any chances.

You turn back around, dropping the keys into your small cross body bag as you place your left hand in Sami’s right one as the two of you head off towards the small neighborhood park.

Taking a turn about the park before scouting out the perfect place to lay the blanket out, Sami makes a joke about feeling like Caroline Bingley and Elizabeth Bennet as they casually stroll around the large drawing room at Netherfield Park. You couldn’t help but joke back about how he would actually be the perfect Charles Bingley, sitting back and observing making silly jokes. His quiet laugh brought on a small giggle of your own.

“Very astute in your observations of me YN, but wouldn’t I be more suited to Mr. Darcy?”

“Not at all. You are much too relaxed and far more playful.You aren’t conceited enough to be a proper Caroline Bingley either, Rami would definitely be more suited to Mr. Darcy. He’s broody as hell but secretly in love with me,” you joke back, completely unaware of actual accuracy of your statement.

Sami snorts but doesn’t say much after that, his primary focus was on setting out the blanket perfectly so that you were both in a position to either sit in the sun or in the shade that the large tree offered.

Once he had everything positioned exactly as he wanted it to be, he gestures for you to have a seat and finding the perfect half shaded half sunny spot you attempt to gracefully sit. He sets the basket down to your left as he maneuvers his body so that you are situated between his legs. This position afforded you both views of the many people mulling about the park. Your favorites were the older couples out for an afternoon stroll, hand in hand.

“So Charles, how are you feeling this fine afternoon?”

“Why Miss Bennett, I do believe that I am feeling fine, especially now that I get to enjoy your company. I’m pretty sure that this is considered quite inappropriate as we are unchaperoned.”

The laugh that left you was infectious as he joined you.

“Very well my good Sir, considering that you are already planning on defiling me later I suppose that it is a good thing that we are unaccompanied on this warm day.I sure wouldn’t want any witnesses to whatever debauchery lay before us.”

You feel him shift his weight as he sits up a little straighter and whispers in your ear, "All things considered YN, you have bewitched me body and soul."

“Oh you naughty, naughty boy. You know exactly what Mr. Darcy quotes do to me,” you scold as you playfully smack him on his arm. “You’ve always been such a charmer Sami. Actually you were always so suave and smooth.”

“Oh hell. Not this shit again. Everyone always says that but I seriously used to feel so awkward and weird.

“No Sam, awkward and weird, that’s your brother,” you laugh out again. Sami is definitely bringing out the best in you today. The butterflies from earlier had disappeared now being replaced with a loud rumbling as your stomach makes you well aware of the fact that you haven’t eaten yet today.

“That is the most accurate statement about Rami I’ve ever heard YN. You know the both of us so well.”

“I just can’t believe that you remembered my favorite book.”

“Why do you say that? You think I wouldn’t remember those kinds of things about one of my best friends?”

“I never know exactly what you or your brother do or don’t remember.”

“More than you might think YN. Definitely way more than you think. I remember your favorite color, movie, flower, drink, meal, you sing to yourself when you are really happy, you dance when you think no one is watching, you can fall asleep nearly anywhere as long as you have a blanket, you are always cold but you never complain about it, you bite your lip when you are concentrating, you curse like a sailor and make no apologies for it. You march to the beat of your own drum. You are a breath of fresh air sometimes and it is beautifully refreshing.”

“I bite my lip when I’m concentrating?”

“Yeah, you also furrow your brows and chew on your nails when you are attempting to puzzle something out.”

“Damn man. I didn’t think-I had no idea I had so many tells.”

“Rami and I have known you forever YN, of course we’d know these things after so long a friendship.”

You smile to yourself as your stomach rumbles again and he casually asks if you are hungry.

"Starving."

You pull your body away from his chest and turn to sit facing him on the blanket while he reaches over and pulls the basket between the two of you removing an array of plastic containers filled with food, disposable plates, disposable cutlery and a few bottles of ice cold water.

Jaw slackening at the sheer volume of food options laid before you, looking up at him you couldn’t help but ask,"Sam, did you make all of this yourself?"

"Yeah most of it. Rami did help out a little bit but I think that was mostly because his skinny ass just wanted the extras,"he laughs out in response as he begins to plate the food.

“You’re feast madam, is ready,”he intones using a poorly mimicked, possible sort of English accent.

Bowing your head you couldn’t help but to croon back in an equally bad accent, “Thank you kindly Sir.”

Both of you all smiles as you sit together on the blanket in the sunshine as you eat just making casual small talk, sharing jokes and sipping from the cold water bottles.The casual atmosphere of the date definitely had the both of you feeling incredibly relaxed as the sun beat down on your back. The genuine smiles being exchanged was not unnoticed by other park patrons.

You overheard an older couple walking through the soft grass nearby comment about how the two of you reminded them of themselves about forty years ago, which set off a fit of giggles between the two of you.

Finishing your meal, leaving the used items stacked haphazardly on one side of the blanket you settle back between Sami’s legs as he wraps his arms around your waist. People watching was one of your favorite activities and the two of you often made it a fun game when you both played together. Making up random commentary or dialogue of the park's random assortment of visitors, giggling at some of the antics of the children observing how much fun some of the families in the park were having just running amok. Some children had popsicles that were half-melted in their tiny fists. There was a smattering of young couples that had a similar idea as the two of you and were sprawled on blankets snuggling in, some openly kissing, a group of teenagers near the basketball court smoking and shoving one another, and some older couples just strolling around the park.

This afternoon had been gorgeously sunny and warm but surprisingly not too hot. The warmth of the air, and the feeling of Sami's arms around you made your mind start wandering to Rami.You began to question why you were having the intrusive thoughts about Rami, and then your mind took a sharp turn to the left and you were stunned at how easily you admitted to yourself about how fun it would be to be in this exact situation with him. Sitting on a blanket watching the children play, talking about having a family, placing small but meaningful kisses to each other's lips. You let out a sigh and shake your head hoping to rid your mind of those thoughts. It almost started to make this moment with Sami feel wrong but you were a woman on a mission, and you weren’t going to fail. This whole thing had been your idea in the first place and you weren’t going to back down from the challenge.

Somehow, managing to clear your mind of the wayward and fantastical thoughts of Rami, your body relaxes back into Sami’s arms where you pleasantly discover that you're content to stay. Time seems to fly and before you know it you’d spent twenty minutes joking about what was happening around you. The two of you making up dialogue for some of the other couples around you. Loud laughter from the two of you had other park patrons casting curious glances at the two of you, some shaking their heads and others smiling widely.

A few beats passed between the two of you and he cleared his throat; was he ready to go?

“Sam it’s getting a little warm out did you want to-” you hesitate struggling to articulate that you wanted to leave without sounding too eager, “do you want to stay? Or do you want to go ahead and head back to mine?

He doesn't say anything but he nods his head, releasing you from his grip and together you get everything cleared up, depositing the trash into the appropriate bins, shaking out the blanket and folding it up. You gather up the basket resting it in the crook of your elbow much as he had little over an hour earlier. Without thinking you reach out to offer him your hand which he accepts wearing a shy smile; slowly exhaling as the familiar comforting feeling settles over you both.

The walk back to your house had consisted of you mostly chattering away about anything and everything to distract yourself. Looking over at Sami every once in a while he just appeared to be content to listen to whatever it was that you couldn’t stop yammering on about.

Strolling up the driveway the butterflies came back tenfold and you find yourself feeling almost dizzy with anticipation. This wasn’t unexpected since the both of you knew that all of this was the point of the whole thing. Unlocking the door and kicking your shoes off nearly in the same manner that you’d done with Rami you almost laugh out loud. This doesn’t feel awkward like it had with Rami but rather just an anxiousness. Could you go through with this?

Observing Sami as he kicks off his shoes as you had, and setting his basket down in nearly the same place that Rami had haphazardly tossed his stuff earlier in the week you let out a weak laugh. Sami cocked a brow at you as if to question what could be so funny but he didn’t press for details as you shook your head.

For the briefest of moments things felt awkward and you swear that you could nearly cut the tension with a knife but that was swiftly put to bed as Sami takes you by the hand and guides you into the living room, stopping only once you reach the sofa.

Neither of you exactly sure how to proceed which was hard for you as you’d never been the one to completely take charge in most sexual matters. Rami had taken the lead earlier in the week and now you feel as if you’d made some incorrect assumptions about Sami. Between both twins you’d always presumed that he’d be the one to definitely take charge in all matters sexual in nature.

Perching yourself on the arm of the sofa while Sami stood in front of you he grasps both your arms in his and roughly pulls you back into a standing position in front of him, his hands skating up your arms until his hands come to a stop on either side of your face. With a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth moments before his lips descend on yours. There was not an ounce of hesitation in the way his soft mouth works yours, his right hand settling on the back of your neck to pull your face closer to his.

Your body moving on its own accord, becoming putty in his hands melting into him as your hips unconsciously pressing into his. His left hand slowly drifting downwards from your face; his fingers deftly working the buttons of your cardigan open sliding it off your shoulders. The faux pearl buttons quietly clacking on the hardwood; something about that small noise awoke a primal part of yourself.

Reaching down, grasping the hem of his shirt and lifting it up working together with him until it joined your cardigan in a crumpled heap on the floor. Seizing an opportunity to stare at his bare chest and arms for the first time in ages, viewing him now in a completely different light. You’d never seen Sami as the object of your sexual attention until this moment. Your eyes drinking in the sight of him; admiring the dark patch of hair on his chest, the light smattering of hair that trailed down into the waistband of his dark jeans, his strong arms and you felt a rush of heat to your core. Both brothers were physically identical but while Rami was lean, Sami was definitely fuller and you could appreciate the difference.

You must have been ogling his body longer than intended because he let out a breathy little laugh, “Like what you see?”

You just smirk at him and reach out for him, your lips finding his this time as your bodies begin a semi-graceful, lustful dance down the hallway towards your bedroom. Neither of you break the kiss, even his hands snake around your waist and end up on your back, fingers locating the zipper of your dress. His skilled fingers tugging the tiny piece of metal,freeing you from the confines of your dress, you let out a small moan at the sensation of the soft fabric ghosting your skin as it flutters to the floor and settles in a pool around your bare feet.

Your hips desperately trying to come in contact with his seeking the heated friction you were craving. The evidence of his arousal currently pressed into your pelvis elicits another small moan from you. You reach down and slither your hands into his jeans and into the waistband of his underwear.

Gently grasping his firm length in your hand, you move your hand in the restricted space, sliding your thumb over the head of his cock and smearing the little beads of precum onto him as you begin to work him. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as his forehead gently presses into yours, letting out small shaky breaths.

Raising your chin slightly to reclaim his mouth, your hand still working him. He lets out a quiet moan against your mouth. When you withdraw your hand from his pants and begin fumbling with this belt, his hands gently come to rest on yours. Looking up to catch and hold his gaze, his eyes are half lidded, pupils blown wide and glassy with lust.

"No, amira (princess), this is all about you. Don't worry about me."

Suddenly he lifts you into his arms and presses your back to the wall, the shock barely registering before you feel the roughness of his beard scraping along your skin as his mouth explores every inch of skin from navel to pelvis.

Sami's mouth begins to lick and suck at your soft skin in between murmurs of how gorgeous you are.

Your mouth opens and closes in a shocked silence as his lips graze over your center. Gasping as his beard scrapes against the sensitive flesh of your thighs, and the fingers of his right hand ghost along your panty line before roughly pulling them aside.

He ends up pushing you further along the wall as he places his shoulders under your knees,his left hand on your hip to steady the both of you as his tongue finds your clit and the fingers of his right hand find your slick center.

"Oh fuck," you whine out your eyes nearly rolling back into your head, your head just thumping back against the wall, as your hips unconsciously buck into his face. His grip on your hip tightens and you're certain there will be bruises in the morning.

"Oh God Sami."

You press your thighs tight around his face, his beard adding to the delicious friction your body was seeking. Your hands come down in his hair, grabbing onto the chestnut strands as you start face fucking him.

He responds by working his tongue and fingers at a much more rapid pace. Once he starts the come hither motion inside you, you nearly lose it.

You respond with grunts, moans and desperate whiny pleas for him to not stop. Soon enough you came undone around him, screaming a nearly incoherent chorus of fucks, oh God's and his name. He doesn't stop until he's worked you through your orgasm and the trembling in your legs has subsided.

He eases your legs off his shoulders and as you look at him you couldn't help the self satisfied smirk on your face. Your juices were coating his face from nose to chin. Sami's eyes lock with yours, a slow smirk creeping across his face as he slowly brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean.

Removing his fingers from his mouth, eyes still locked with yours, licking his lips he says, "You taste so good YN. So damn good."

You let out a quiet moan before a giggle escapes.

"I bet you do too Sam. Come here I wanna taste you."

"No amira, this is all about you.”

You just wrap your arms around his neck and his lips found yours in a bruising kiss. The slow dance down the rest of the hallway ended once the back of your legs had hit the edge of your bed. Both of you were so turned on that neither of you hesitated to keep going.

“Lay back on the bed,” he instructs

You do as you were told and lift your hips to rid yourself of your panties, tossing them aside while he finishes removing his clothing.

You don’t notice when he pulls the condom out of the pocket of his jeans and effortlessly slips it on. It only felt like a few seconds had passed as his body doesn’t take long before his body is hovering over yours his hands coming to grip your hips.Letting out a slow breath as he eased himself inside of you. Sami’s hips stilled for a few moments giving you a chance to get used to the feel of him and when you whined out for him to move, he did.

His hips pounding into yours and hitting every sweet spot inside of you while you claw at his shoulders and back, wanting nothing more than to pull him deeper into you.

“Ohhhh Rami” you whine out and for just a moment you feel Sami’s hips stutter, still for a few seconds, and then continue moving.

Your eyes widen in shock as you realize what you’ve just done. He doesn’t say anything at all as his right hand comes up and grabs your chin tightly. His hips never falter in their pace as he looks you in the eye and says,”Wrong brother.”

You weren’t expecting that reaction from him and the slight aggressiveness of his handling of you made you clench around him. The pleasure coursing through your body was very different to the pleasure you had been given by Rami and you were unsure of how you felt.

Suddenly you feel his hands roughly pull your hips closer to his, as he pulls you damn near into his lap, his arms now firmly holding you around your waist as he fucks up into you. Sami buries his face in the crook of your neck for a moment before he takes the sensitive flesh at the base of your throat between his teeth as he sucks a mark into the flesh that you are certain is going to be a bright reddish purple in the morning, The hair from his beard scratching at your neck in a pleasant way just before you feel his hot breath on your ear.

“I bet you my brother didn’t make you feel this good.”

Those words made you moan into his shoulder as you come completely undone around him. He continues to fuck you through your second orgasm of the afternoon but it’s clear that he isn’t done with you yet.

Without warning he releases you and you fall back onto the mattress.

“Such a good girl, so soft and compliant. Now I’m going to make you scream. I want you on all fours.”

You scramble to your knees quickly and he wastes no time reentering you from behind. Sami places his left hand on your hip and his right hand fists on your hair.

"Say my name,"he breathlessly demands.

You quietly mutter out his name but he wasn't satisfied with that. His grip in your hair tightens. Sami’s hips have set a brutal pace that have your fingers scrambling for purchase on anything. Pulling on your fitted sheet so hard that you end up pulling the soft blue material right off the corner of the mattress. The blood pounding in your ears as another orgasm quickly approaches you hear Sami saying something.

" Say my name. Louder." He demands again, as his left hand comes down to circle your clit.

You couldn’t help it, you let loose and you scream out his name quite a bit louder than you had the first. He still wasn’t satisfied with your response. You can hear him barely keeping it together somehow staving off his orgasm as yours crashes around you. Legs trembling and your arms giving out making you face plant onto the soft mattress as you scream his name repeatedly. Clenching around him as you give in completely to the pleasure that has overtaken your body.

Sami responds by tightening his grip on your hair as his body tenses and he cums with a shout of your name, Both of you gasping for air as he collapses onto your back in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs.

Time seemed to pass too quickly after your encounter with Sami. It seems like as soon as the two of you had come back down to Earth you both got up and began the process of cleaning up.

He left by three thirty that afternoon, which left you with way too much time on your hands to mull over the details from Tuesday and today. Could you accurately be able to figure out who had actually been better in bed? Why did everything feel so different with Rami than it had with Sami? Too many questions floating around your head and you were nervous. In less than twenty-four hours you’d have to deliver your verdict to the two of them. Did you just end up in an impossible situation? Head in your hands mostly in frustration. Both of them were stellar in bed. Why is this so hard?

Trying to drown out the thoughts running through your head you decide to distract yourself with cleaning. Starting in the bedroom, you strip the bedding and replace the soft blue colored linens with the silver gray colored ones that you’d had on the bed the night you and Rami had slept together.

Picking up some other scattered laundry and doing some other menial chores around the house you realize that you were absolutely starving. Hours had passed since your picnic with Sami and the exertions of the afternoon were taking a toll. Deciding that there is no better time for pizza and wine, both a comfort to you, so that you could pull your thoughts together to be able to come to a decision about the boys.

Picking up your phone and smiling at the picture on your background. It was a photo of the three of you at the Oscars with Rami the night that he’d won. He had jokingly called you his good luck charm, and even though he had brought his family, he insisted that you too were like family to him and it would mean the world if you were there too.

Placing your order with the pizza place you decided that a quick shower was in order. You couldn’t focus while you still smelled like Sami.

Deciding to forgo any clothes for the evening, wrapping yourself in your favorite oversized fluffy robe, you head back to the living room. You picked up a pen and notepad that you’d left on the coffee table after Sami left to try and start comparing notes. So far all you’d scribbled on the page were their names. You weren’t sure how the hell you were even supposed to score this. Should you do it like the Olympics? Form, Execution, Dismount? You scribbled down orgasms placing tallies under the header. Rami two, Sami three. Was that a good thing? The sex with Rami had been so different though that you weren’t sure that it mattered.

So focused on trying to scribble down other comparisons you almost missed the knock at your front door that was quickly followed by the ringing of the doorbell. Tossing the notepad and pen down on the table with a frustrated sigh, you got up to go answer the door. Paying for your pizza and leaving the pizza delivery kid a generous tip, you drop the box onto your coffee table next to the notepad, padding into the kitchen to grab your wine. No wine glass needed tonight, you had a lot on your mind and you needed to focus, so you just drank directly from the bottle.

Grabbing a slice from the box and stuffing as much of the deliciousness that was the pizza into your mouth, you picked up your pen and began scribbling more notes onto the paper. Getting to the header of form. Rami’s form had been flawless at least in your eyes. The sex with him had been slow and gentle almost as if he’d been making love to you rather than the fuck that it was supposed to be.

After finishing your first slice of pizza you frustratedly toss the notepad back on the table and reach for another slice. As soon as it was halfway to your mouth you heard a knock on the door followed by the incessant ringing of the doorbell. Glancing at the clock on the wall it was nearly eight pm and you weren’t expecting anyone.

Swinging open the door in mild irritation giving way to amusement as Rami nearly tumbles to the floor. He manages to catch himself but ends up face planting directly into your cleavage.

“YNNNN!” Rami shouts, dragging out the last half of your name. “And HELLO YN”s tits! Such pretty things, I wanna touch 'em again. They were so soft and squishy.”

“Rami? What are you doing here?” you ask with a brow raised. You really were curious as to how he’d ended up here. You didn’t see his car or any other car.

“I just thought I’d come say hello. You know. You’re my best friend and also because I kind of wanted to kiss you again,” he half mumbles with his face still buried in your cleavage.

Laughter bubbling out of you at his boldness. Rami when even partially was intoxicated could be quite bold and had no problem saying what was on his mind. You help him stand upright and pull him into the house slamming the door shut behind you; his laughter loud as he struggles to remove his shoes. As soon as he gets his shoes off he follows you deeper into the house.

“Rami what is going on?”

You gesture for him to have a seat on the couch watching as he clumsily plops down next to you. His face is an alternating mixture of serious and forlorn. Rami doesn’t say anything for long enough that you were certain that he didn’t hear your question. Just as you are about to repeat the question he decides to respond.

“I don’t want you to forget about me. I know that it’s been several days but I don’t want my brother to win. I sometimes suspect that he’s better at everything than me. All I can do is act but my brother is better at everything else,” he rambles.

“Ram- I couldn’t forget about you even if I wanted to. You can do so much more than you think you can. I think you’re an incredible person. How much have you had to drink tonight? I think you need to eat something.”

“I’ve had plenty enough to drink but that pizza looks sooo good. I want to eat it as badly, almost as I want to eat you. You tasted like what I imagine heaven does.”

From his position on the couch he looks so sad and small. He isn’t a big guy by any means but when he gets sad he tends to shrink into himself which gives him the appearance of being much smaller than he actually is. You almost cry when he looks up at you with tears shining in his beautifully expressive eyes, and you react the only way you know how in that moment.

“Here, eat this,” you suggest as you hold the pizza up for him to take. He just smiles and leans forward not bothering to actually take the slice into his own large hands instead opting to just take a large bite of the end.

“Mmmmm so good. This is the best pizza ever.”

“Then take this slice, I’m going to go get you a bottle of water. Please don’t go anywhere,” you instruct as he finally grabs the pizza from your hand, taking another large bite.

Re-entering the living room from the kitchen less than a minute later, what you see nearly makes you faint. There was Rami casually munching on his pizza that he had gripped in one of his large hands, your notepad in the other. You clear your throat and he tosses the notepad back onto the coffee table looking a little sheepish.

“Snooping isn’t nice Rami.”

“He gave you three orgasms?”

“He did Rami. It doesn’t mean anything really I’m just trying to make comparisons that’s all. Wasn’t that the whole point of this experiment?”

His face changes from the sheepish one to the stoic Malek poker face that you hated. It was the ultimate unreadable expression and both twins wore it well. That face you always assumed was their attempt at neutrality and it drove you insane. Sometimes you call it the mask, and this is the same face he made the other day at brunch before he threw his little Rami temper tantrum.

“Rami?”

“Yes?”he responds, arching a brow at you just before he takes another bite of his pizza.

“Why are you really here?”

He suddenly starts to choke on his food but somehow manages to recover quickly before swallowing the bite of food that he’d been chewing, his face switching from Malek poker face to amusement.

“I’m here because…. I want to be! Since when have we ever needed an excuse to hang out together? I’m going away tomorrow and I’m going to miss my best friend so maybe I just wanted some quality time before I have to leave.”

You don’t buy it. His behavior at brunch yesterday and the awkwardness today in conjunction with a few things he’d said are contributing to the Malek bullshit detector that is being set off in your brain. He must have read your facial expression because he just lets out an awkward laugh before nearly inhaling the rest of his food.

“Rami, I’m not complaining. I’m just curious if the timing for the visit has something to do with your brother and what happened today,” you casually mention as you reclaim your spot on the sofa next to him. Rami doesn’t say anything but silently retrieves the water bottle you were holding out to him.

“YN why is your face all red? What is that?” he asks as he pokes at the mark that Sami had left at the base of your throat.

No response from you told Rami everything he needed to know.

“My brother did that, didn't he?”

There was no point in telling any lies. Rami would see right through it and would call you out on it immediately, so you nod your head silently to answer his question. You weren’t expecting what happened next and that was Rami letting out a growl, yes a growl, as his lithe body collided with yours knocking you back into the arm of the sofa.

“I need to give you a reminder, a refresher, about who can fuck you the best. I can’t hold this back anymore. Sami may have given you three orgasms today, but I can do it so much better. I refuse to lose to my brother. I want, no I need, to give you at least four. I’ll prove to you which Malek is the better lover,” he asserts, using a tone unlike one you’ve ever heard from him before. You knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t deny him anything.

His eyes search yours for a few moments, giving you an opportunity to decline, when you brooked no denial everything seemed to happen very rapidly from there.

His lips land on yours in an unexpected heated kiss that feels way to brief for your liking. Rami had a mouth that was made for kissing and you never wanted to stop. You whine in protest at the abrupt departure of his lips from yours but you reign in your displeasure the moment his hands fist in your hair and he roughly jerks your head to the side, allowing him better access to your neck. You gasp in shock when you feel his lips attach to the most sensitive bit of flesh on your neck, his teeth and lips working together to create the right amount of pressure needed to leave a mark. Once he was satisfied that a large enough mark would clearly be visible tomorrow he works his way upwards towards your hairline leaving a trail of smaller hickies in his wake. Rami giggles to himself, obviously proud of his handiwork as he works on leaving another trail of marks along your shoulder and collarbone. All the while he was muttering something to himself about how he refused to be outdone by his brother.

He releases your hair from his grip, his mouth licking and sucking along every inch of exposed skin eliciting a shiver from you. You move only in an attempt to adjust your body so that you can position yourself in a way that is more open to him, not noticing when his fingers gently tug at the belt of your robe allowing the fabric to fall away from your skin. Rami’s mouth continues its downward explorative journey of your body leaving nothing but goosebumps along the way.

Your mouth opens in shock and your head lolls back on the armrest of the couch the moment his lips come in contact with one of your nipples both of them hardening under the gentle pressure of his tongue, his other hand gently kneading the flesh of your other breast. His thumb tweaking the nipple just as he lightly bit down on the nipple he had in his mouth. Moaning out quietly at the wonderful sensations that his mouth were evoking, swearing that you could cum just from his stimulation of your breasts. When he felt he’d paid enough attention to one breast he moved on to the other repeating the process.

When he finally stopped lavishing all the attention on your breasts you were a panting, sweating mess.

“God Rami. How the hell do you do this to me?”

He offers no verbal response to your question but instead spreads your legs wide and slips his fingers between your wet folds.

“I knew you’d be wet for me already.”

Rami slips his fingers through your damp folds and starts to work you, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches in amused satisfaction; content that he is making you fall apart like this. Your head thrown back onto the arm of the sofa, hips bucking on their against Rami’s hand while he coos nothing but praise for you.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. You’re so beautiful spread open like this for me. Let go, cum on my fingers baby.”

HIs gentle praise and the way his thumb was circling your clit as his fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you, you came undone way too quickly for your liking. A strangled moan leaves your lips as you clench around his fingers, while one of his hands holds you steady to prevent you from bucking yourself off the couch.

“One,”he half-shouts sounding something that could best be described as victorious. “I told you that I’m going to give you four, and that’s one.”

Once your legs stop trembling you watch as he slithers his body down yours and his face aligns with your center. He spreads you open, and his tongue gets to work, stimulating your sensitive pink bundle with his tongue. Slow, languid flicks of his tongue, just enough to tease but not stimulate in the one way that you want it to be. Whining in protest, bringing your hand down to his hair hoping to spur him on just a little.

He begins to hum against you while his tongue begins to work a little faster, moving in a way that has you nearing orgasm way too quickly. Why is sex with him like this?

Without warning your thighs clamp tightly shut against his head, your hips once again moving on their own as your thighs tremble and shake.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Raaaaami fuuuuuuuck” you scream out.

You can feel him smile against your core as his tongue continues to work you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped convulsing you feel his hand release the grip they had on your hips and he pulls himself up to his knees.

“Two.”

You try to sit up but his hands shove you back down onto the couch.

“No,” he protests when you try to reach up to help him with his pants. You want to get your hands or mouth on his beautiful cock but apparently he has other plans. Watching as he strips himself down faster than you’d ever thought it was possible for anyone to do, he strokes himself languidly for a few seconds and then maneuvers himself between your open thighs.

Rami wastes no time at all pulling your hips up and easing himself into you. The noise that escapes you makes him react with his own noises. His hips pounding into yours though his eyes never leave yours. He is a man on a pleasure mission and you know he won’t stop until he gets you exactly where he wants you.

“You feel so good baby. So good for me,” he coos.

Your body responding to him and his praise.

“Do you like this?”

“Oh fuuuuckkkk Rami. Yesssss don’t stop,” you shout, feeling so close to orgasm already. His hands coming down to pull your hips upwards,changing the angle, so that his cock hits every part of you that makes you feel good. Your body shivering at the sensations.

“I can feel you getting close baby. So good, so good for me, cum for me baby,” he encourages. His brow is furrowed and both of your bodies so overheated and coated in sweat. WIth his words of encouragement you feel that something inside of you snap and you cum hard screaming his name. You haven't completely recovered from your third orgasm with Rami yet but when your eyes snap open you are met with the sight of his eyes boring into yours with an intense concentration coupled with lust.

“Three.”

He moves his hips at a slower, less frantic pace which was surprising to you but he slides his hands up your body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands slide into yours much as they had on Tuesday night.

You could barely register anything as his mouth starts singing your praises

“Love everything about you. Love these hands,” he murmurs as he squeezed his fingers against yours where they were now intertwined above your head, “these beautiful lips of yours so soft and sweet,” he kisses you softly, “every inch of your body is divine, like you are a goddess sent from the heavens just for me,” he lowers his body so that it is now flush against yours, “just-everything, everything, everything.” (Thank you @diasimar)

Your breath catches in your throat at his words disbelieving that he would ever utter these words to you in any other circumstances. The only explanation is that he’s caught in a moment.

“You’re so beautiful, so beautiful,” he continues as he moves his hips against yours

Your breath catches in your throat at his words and you aren’t aware if he knows what he is saying. His hips never stopping, his eyes locked on yours until you can feel his body tense and you know his orgasm is getting close.

“Baby cum for me,” he nearly pleads. Closing your eyes and giving into the pleasure coursing through your body. Your insides clench around him as you feel your body spasming in pleasure for the seventh time today, you cry out his name again and again until you feel him reach his release. Forcing your eyes open to watch him as he cums, his jaw tensing and his mouth in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Both of you struggle to catch your breath as he relaxes all of his weight on top of you, you release his hands and much as you had on Tuesday night you bring your hands up to his hair to run them through his damp curls. He just rests head on your shoulder and you let out a small laugh when he weakly mumbles out , “Four.”

The warm weight of him on top of you combined with your exertions from the day of sexual activities has your eyes closing and you aren’t sure exactly when you fell asleep. When you wake up in your bed in the morning you smile to yourself, rolling over and reaching out but you find the space on the mattress next to you empty.

A part of you didn’t want to feel a bit sad or abandoned but you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely. Why are you so emotional when it comes to Rami? You let the tears fall for a few minutes and then try to pull yourself together. You have to deliver your findings today to the boys but you needed to get up and prepare yourself for the day. Rolling over and swinging your feet over the side of your bed, you wince in pain, as you were incredibly sore from yesterday’s vigorous activities. That’s when you notice a folded piece of paper with your name on the outside in a very familiar scrawl. Confusion racking your brain when you open the notecard and realize that you don’t know what the actual note said: ahbik. la 'astatie alaintizar liruyatak baed zuhr hdha alyawm. (Google translated so I apologize for any inaccuracies but it’s supposed to be translated to: I love you. I can’t wait to see you this afternoon.)

TAG LIST: @xmxisxforxmaybe @free-rami @ramimedley @txmel @mrhoemazzello @r-ahh-mi @itsme690 @safinsscar @ladyr0b0t @youthtea @ramisgirl512 @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @doing-all-write @itslula1991 @sasha--1996 @madamsledge @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @alottanothing @mezzomercury @theultraviolencefan @the-real-ramimalekpeen @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @adoremalek @rawmemalek @lunasasylum @lablanchett @diasimar @zodiyack @rami-malek-trash @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick @moon-stars-soul @petites-fantasies

#Rami Malek #Sami Malek #Rami Malek Smut #Sami Malek Smut #Rami Malek x Reader #Sami Malek X Reader #forgive me father for i have sinned #and i dont fucking regret it #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek fan fic #rami malek oneshot #which malek twin is better in bed part two

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nerdpokemonheadcanons · 5 years ago

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Do I need to be afraid of my frosslass? My precious snorunt (her name is Snowfox :)) recently evolved, and while I was initially excited, I have to admit they’re personality has changed and not for the better. They’ve become withdrawn from the rest of the team and aggressive to visitors. Other trainers have told me disturbing things about wild frosslass and I’m worried that I rushed into evolving my baby before both of us were ready. What can I do???

Snowfox is a lovely name!

Sometimes Pokemon become moody after evolving, and Froslass are known for being more stoic than Snorunt. But I’m sure, once she’s used to her new body, Snowfox will return to mostly her normal self.

As for the stories you’ve been told, most of them are not true. Froslass don’t really freeze people/Pokemon solid, or kidnap people, or do any of those evil things you’ve heard about.

What Snowfox needs is some time to herself, and reassurance from you that things aren’t going to change! Think of her as a moody teenager who just hit a growth spurt.

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sharkfish · 5 years ago

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ps i loved this one

(abo version)

for the anonymouse that requested some abo recs!

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow - 74k

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

dean is a bit of an anxious wreck, cas is the kind of stoic and precise that dean thinks cas can’t stand him, they accidentally spend dean’s heat together. good clean abo fun.

For Science! by pm_lo - 22k

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

it is hard to write a dialogue-only and make it work. this is an awesome example of how tone can be inferred by the dialogue alone, adjective-free, and it was one of the first abo fics i ever loved.

Friends Helping Friends (Telling Me What My Heart Meant) by Annie D - series is 15k

Dean and Cas have known each other for about a year now, and in that time, Cas has never gone into heat. So far.

yo i got nothing to say about annie d except that they’ve got some amazing stuff out there.

Get a Whiff of This by @bendingsignpost - 27k

When no good deed goes unpunished, Dean ends up sentenced to community service for physically defending another Omega at his job. That is, at his former job. It's all a steaming pile of shit, and that's exactly what he has to clean up at the joint animal shelter and clinic he's been assigned to.

With a face full of allergies and a horrific mood, all Dean has to do is get through six weeks of this sinus-assaulting torture. That's not so easy with a smartass Alpha receptionist, but at least the weird Beta vet might just end up being kinda cool.

this is soooo good. due to the whole allergy thing, dean’s scent blind during his volunteer hours. while making this list i am discovering that i really like abo fics that fuck around with the trope. but it does stay true to the consequences of the power dynamic between alphas and omegas. (it’s almost like... abo is.... a parallel to actual life gender discrimination......)

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity - series is 100k

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

this is an awesome fic about Dean Winchester’s Appallingly Low Self Esteem, being your best self without losing authenticity, and raging against harmful stereotypes. also, great sex. @carrieosity is really good at doing things.

Heat of the Moment by RipUpTheEnding - 21k

In which Sam plans a family vacation at a horse ranch, Cas gets his first human illness (sort of), and Dean finally pulls his stupid alpha head out of his ass.

canon-adjacent abo au where they all find out that cas inhereited jimmy’s omega-ness. dean offers to help out, because that’s just what friends do, right?

Lover by casbean - 27k

Dean knows that Cas doesn't like him. They're not even friends, not really. But Dean can't help it, he wants to be around Cas, he wants to be his friends, he wants... more. But he has to respect that Cas is just not interested.

It's not until Cas gets into the first heat of his life in front of him that Dean is faced with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Cas doesn't hate him at all.

not a lot of people write about ace characters in abo fics (or, um, in general), but @casbeanwrites has created something really beautiful. i love to see this kind of trope subversion and am glad it exists in the world.

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel - 65k

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

you can’t go wrong with @jemariel and their exploration of queer themes in abo!!!

Picking Up Roses by jemariel - 26k

Castiel Smith has spent his life climbing the corporate ladder, and has sacrificed a lot to get where he is. Including pieces of his own identity. Nobody can know he's not actually an alpha....

Dean Winchester has carved out a life for himself in spite of his troubled past. When Castiel Smith shows up in his yoga class, there might finally be someone he can open up to, truly....

Hidden truths are intimate things, and you never know what you'll discover when you're honest with someone.

you still can’t go wrong with jem!!!

The Samhain Trials by jemariel - 8k

On Samhain night, the veil is thin, not only between the spirit world and our own, but between humankind and their inner natures.

Every year, the hunt is run. Alphas and omegas brave the woods in search of glory and passion. Every year, Dean Winchester comes out alone. The soulbrand on his neck means that he has a True Mate, and what should be a blessing has only been a curse.

He hopes, and he waits, and this year his soulbrand has been itching as if it were newly risen.

It's nearly sundown.

apparently i have all of jem’s fics bookmarked. i stand by it.

#alpha/beta/omega dynamics #destiel #sharkrecs #sharklist

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uhxrp · 4 years ago

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member groups

these are open to interpretation. our site’s member groups include seven character groups as well as four side groups that we’ll give you the run down on just to keep everything transparent. something to remember for our character groups, however, is this: you have full power on which group your character falls into. we understand that characters, just like people, often fit into many different groups, and sometimes it’s hard to choose. because of this, we just ask that you pick the one that makes the most sense to you, the one that seems like the best fit even if they have qualities of other groups. basically, as long as you can rationalize it, we’re good. the choice is entirely yours.

Our member groups are as follows:

BLOOD MOON - #c991a1

the staff. this group is for the members of the site staff team.

this is a side group.

SOLAR ECLIPSE - #c99c91

the leaders. these are naturally commanding, self-assured, decisive characters. they are the 'leaders of the pack', so to speak. these are the ones to make the final decision. unfortunately, great power also comes with great sacrifice and these characters tend to be demanding, haughty, inflexible, intolerant, overbearing, and ruthless at times. these characters are the ones to make things happen, which can be good but leads to a power struggle between responsibility and power. these characters are leaders, but being a good leader means listening to the will of your followers, and the balance is not an easy one to master. still, those in this group are magnanimous, calm in stressful situations, and they inspire loyalty.

aesthetics. aficionado of history, badass in a nice suit, cunning concealed by painted lips, delighting in the waves, doves, eloquence, expensive watch, flash of lightning, flirtatious winks, force of nature, gets turned on by danger, high-rise buildings, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, lenny face, maintains order, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, natural charisma, nightmare-filled nights, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, proud arm around their lover’s waist, running on coffee, sees the world as a runway, staring wistfully from a balcony, strolling along the beach, strong handshake, technician on the piano, the sea washing their ankles, thrives on attention, thunder in their heart, unapologetically sexual, wants to be adored, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive.

NEW MOON - #c9b991

the newbies. this member group is what we call our registering members, those who haven't been accepted yet. everyone will start off in this group.

this is a side group.

MOON MOON - #bec991

the forgotten. this member group are those who have been archived, but don't sweat it. we allow for character reactivation at any time, should the need occur.

this is a side group.

WANING CRESCENT - #a1c991

the artists. these are naturally creative, sensitive, and dexterous. these characters find the future and make it discoverable. they see the world as a place to build and admire. these are the artists, the entrepreneurs, the inventors. these are creative spirits with unique ideas, outlooks, and inspired souls. they can be artificial, moody, self-destructive, and flaky - but they can also be spontaneous, refreshing, and romantic.

aesthetics. always up-to-date on the latest technology, cool rain, cows grazing on a pasture, crafting masterpieces, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, devil-may-care smile, does it for the vine, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, files that under ‘fuck it’, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, folded maps, hand clutching a string of pearls, hoodies and sneakers, ink-stained hands, large chandelier with glittering crystals, long drives on the highway, loving and hating fiercely, marble and gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, paint brushes, paint coated boyfriend jeans, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, resting bitch face, romance to realism, spontaneous road trips, will steal your french fries.

LUNAR ECLIPSE - #91c9b9

the inspirational. these are the optimists, those who are uplifting, motivating, and energizing without even trying. these are your visionaries, the people who turn terrible situations into manageable ones with ease. they reassure you, encourage you, and cheer for you on the sideline. but these aren't just side characters, these are the people who create revolutions. these people bring good intentions to life. these characters also have a strong downside though, often coming off as irrational and fanatical in their die-hard beliefs and own decided moral/ethic code.

aesthetics. blueprints for future projects, broad shoulders, cherry blossoms, clothes smeared with paint, coffee shops, colorful coral reefs, compass with a spinning arrow, cotton candy, even their muscles have muscles, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, flame burning in their eyes, fondness for diy projects, goes jogging in the morning, grocery shopping, handwriting that flows across the page, holding hands, knee high socks, leather jackets, love confessions, ma and pop diners, mood as ever-changing as the sea, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, puts googly eyes on everything, revolution in their kiss, secret daggers, sexual tension, spicy food, stirrer of passion, storm with skin , striking a match, stroking the soft fur of a cat, sweaty brow, the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, the roar of a motorcycle, the sea casting its spell, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, waves crashing against the shore.

WAXING GIBBOUS - #91bec9

the intellects. they question everything, they look at everything in a different way. they find themselves naturally curious, studious and academic not because they have to be but because they feel this undying need to be. they're analytical strong left‐brainers who question every reality of this world and pursue the answers endlessly. they're dependable while remaining independent, conventional but investigative. they can be arrogant, they can be reclusive, but they are beautifully brilliant.

aesthetics. a shy kiss on the cheek, a steamed up mirror, abs that can cut steel, ancient buildings, armor that intimidates, balls of wool displayed on shelves, big fan of logic, breathless laughter, campfires, can kill you with their brain, dipping your feet into a swimming pool, discerning gaze, eye for architecture, glittery eyeshadow, go-getter, hair done up, heads to the library often to research, loves brain teasers, matte nailpolish, modern buildings, natural lipstick, old books, owl perched on their finger, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, pottery classes, quiet museums, rainy days, sharpened pencils, stargazing, stoic statues, storm clouds, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, the glow of your phone at night, the patience of a lifelong teacher, the rooftop of a building, unreadable face.

BLUE MOON - #91a1c9

the unknown. this group is for those first viewing our site, our guests and potential new registers. this is the main look of our site, prior to becoming a newbie.

this is a side group.

FULL MOON - #9c91c9

the entertainers. they are built with more charm and charisma in one pinky than most others have in their whole body. these characters are naturally engaging, articulate, and expressive, often the people who keep the world turning by making it an enjoyable place to be. characters like these remind us what it means to be human and how to feel emotion. unfortunately, they can also be a bit arrogant because of this, as well as dramatic, demanding, and deceptive.

aesthetics. arrow to the heart, art galleries, bathing in the sunlight, beautiful cover of wonderwall, being made of gold, being the baby of the bunch, collecting vinyl records, creeping vines, drunk shitposter, glitz and glamour, grand opera houses, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, healing touch, inspiring loyalty, lives for the applause, masquerade balls, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, playing multiple instruments, pouring champagne into flutes, probably has a tinder account, receiving a standing ovation, rich fabrics on dark skin, rolls of film, rose caught between their teeth, seductive smirks, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, shunning lies, sleek-furred panthers, sleeps naked, smile mingled wrath, speaking in prophecies, sporting shades, stage productions, tasting like sunshine, the powerful urge to create, theater masks, turning the volume up, untamed curls, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup.

WAXING CRESCENT - #b991c9

the survivors. they can be forceful, but are loyal to a fault. these are the protectors, those born with determination in every fiber of their being. these characters don't know when or how to quit, always striving to be the best they can be in every aspect of their lives. problem is, these characters are often seen as brutally blunt, sometimes intimidating and hot-tempered, and nearly always unforgiving of mistakes, even when they themselves make them. these characters are people based on action, those who set goals and are always trying to move toward them. they can be persuasive or coercive, and sometimes find the balance between the two hard to find.

aesthetics. armed for battle, arrow hitting a target, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, blood on their hands and face, bonding while circled around a campfire, boxing gloves, curses under their breath, damaged goods, disheveled braid, exhausted, fear is a prison, fights against injustice, fist raised in protest, force to be reckoned with, freckles like constellations on their skin, gives piggyback rides, ignites revolutions, keen sense of a hunter, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, moonlight peeking through the shadows, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, mother doe and her fawn, not being much of a people person, patience on 3%, piercing eyes, popping egos, protecting their kin, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, red roses, running with wolves, scarred body, soft spot for children, the calm of the forest at night, the moon shimmering on a still lake, touches heaven and returns howling, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, willing to fight the world for the ones they love.

WANING GIBBOUS - #c991be

the caring. their biggest battle comes in the form of service vs servitude, or the form of serving the common good vs losing their own power. these characters are naturally accommodating, compassionate caring, hospitable and altruistic. they are the ones who always takes care of you when you need it. they are dedicated in relationships, often coming off as the "mom friend" in their friend groups. on the opposite side, however, these characters can often be overworked, easily frustrated, and self-sacrificing. they are often prone to self-disparagement and can become a bit controlling. still, these characters are trustworthy, competent, warm individuals who often are just trying to help others.

aesthetics. being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, caring for someone, curls crowned with flowers, daisies dotted across a collarbone, dressed in silk and satin, fairy lights, field of flowers, flower in their hair, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, flushed cheeks, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, hugs, laughter-loving, leaves rustling in the wind, picking fruit, playing in the snow, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air, skin loved by the sun, smile that can bloom flowers, soil-covered hands, speaks to their plants, stalks of wheat, stargazing, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, sweet smiles, takes pride in their beautiful garden, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, travelling, twirling around in a pretty dress, values simplicity.

#unhxlyrp #groups #updates

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elderbonesman · 5 years ago

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An Elder Bones Overview

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Desired Character: Edgar Bones

Why This Character?: Edgar Bones was actually my first character in my Silencio excursions. He’s the domino that started the disaster that’s become my life, and will always have a special place in my heart. I’ve never stopped crying over Edgar Bones, and don’t think I ever will. He’s just a righteous lad, but in a way that we rarely get to explore in works of fiction where things are very clearly black and white, good and evil. Edgar believes in Right and Wrong, fights for and against them at every turn, but he’s also very aware of the shades of grey that make up the world. He’s less worried about the rules and the laws as he is about what is Right, and I just. I fucking love that about him. Okay?

Face Claim?: Ryan Guzman

Ships/Anti-ships: Chemistry, my dudes!

Headcanons:

Bad to the Bone - Edgar was a bit of a rabble rouser in his teenage years. He was an excellent student and a star athlete, but he also stole bottles of booze from his parents’ liquor cabinet, smoked in the boy’s bathroom between classes, and broke into teachers’ offices after hours sometimes just for the hell of it. He even had a profitable side hustle out of the greenhouses that always made the most money during exam time. Incidentally, he got away with most of it. Excellent at covering his tracks and using his reputation to his advantage, when Edgar got detention it was almost always for fighting. He’s never had any patience for bullies and, since he’s always been the bulkiest boy in his year, Edgar never hesitated to jump in to fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. He was good at it, too. REALLY good. The problem was that, sometimes, he just didn’t know when to stop swinging.

It’s the Living Who Suffer - Losing his parents broke the part of him that was able to see the good in people. He knew he had to be strong for his sister, and he was, but on the inside Edgar was fundamentally broken by it. Having recently graduated from junior Auror into an official ranking, Edgar should have been in a position better suited to finding his parents’ killer and making them pay. But it was impossible for him to not bring the anger he felt following their deaths to work with him. His inability to properly separate his hurt from the cases he worked resulted in him resigning before the Heads of the Department could suggest he take a Leave of Absence. He ended up at the Three Broomsticks not long after, a fight with some rowdy patrons resulting in property damage Madam Rosmerta demanded he work off. The pub and it’s matron were the balm his soul needed to come to terms with the loss. As a bartender he could focus all of his energy into being there for his sister, in being the big brother Amelia needed him to be. Two and half years he worked behind Rosmerta’s bar and, all this time later, it’s still home to him. A shift or two makes up the difference for the Ministry’s shit pay.

Werewolf Capture Unit - After two and a half years working as a bartender and security for the Three Broomsticks, it was Alastor Moody that decided it was time for Edgar to come back to work. Aware that Edgar was more than a little disillusioned with the Aurors, the man was also the one to suggest another department that could really use his skills. Edgar agreed, it was time, but only Moody --in all his wisdom-- could have known that he was exactly the man for the job. Even before his parents’ deaths, Edgar had been aware of the wizarding world’s many injustices and prejudices. His lifelong history of fighting for the mistreated was what made him excel in his current career. He understands that werewolves are people, as diverse as any other, not inherently good or bad. Just people. And people that need help. He’s strong enough to wrangle with the worst of them, and compassionate enough to tell the difference between a bad night and a bad person.

A Marshmallow Center - It’s not as well kept a secret as Edgar thinks it is. His glowering, disinterested exterior does a decent job of convincing the outside world that he is not a man to be fucked with. Anyone who knows him, however, knows that there isn’t a better hugger in all of London; probably the world. He’s soft with the people he cares about, attentive and affectionate. His love language is touch, and if he cares about you then he won’t hesitate to spread the love. Platonic hugs, hand holding, forehead and cheek kisses, and cuddles are in endless supply where he’s concerned. He’s also not afraid to make an ass out of himself if it means making his loved ones laugh in the process. If he’s learned anything from his parents’ murder and this war, it’s that life’s too short for pretense and ego.

His Sister’s Keeper - There is no one in this world that means more to him than his sister. No one on the face of the entire planet that he is more protective of. No one who will go up to bat for her more fiercely than him, either. Edgar will do ANYTHING for her, all she has to do is ask. Protecting Amelia has always been his job, his priority, and it was always a job he took deadly seriously. Even before their parents’ death. Happy as he was, and remains to this day, to annoy and tease his sister, he’s the only one allowed to. Potential boyfriends had to endure his protective streak and pray to the powers that be that Amelia was the one to break up with them. If he ever caught word that someone had made his sister cry he was happy to settle the score, with her as the only one able to call him off.

The Three Amigos - Ted Tonks and Frank Longbottom aren’t his friends. They’re his brothers. While he and Frank had the pleasure of growing up together, their brotherhood clicking into place before they were even making memories, it was on the train ride to Hogwarts that they met their third. Try though it might, the universe couldn’t separate them. Even though the Sorting Hat had sorted them into different Houses, they were still together at every opportunity causing trouble and getting each other out of it. He and Frank had planned as children to join the Aurors together and, while life has sent them all on different paths than they’d originally planned for themselves, it can’t break what’s between them. They’re his family. Edgar can’t imagine his life without either of them, and there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for them either.

Order of the Phoenix - He didn’t have to think about it when he was approached about the Order. Moody wasn’t even done with his spiel before Edgar had agreed. Of course he’d join. It wasn’t even a question. The Order of the Phoenix is everything he believes in. Fighting for the freedoms and lives of unjustly hated and persecuted people, people who were scared and couldn’t fight for themselves? It’s his bread and butter. It’s his driving force. Add to that the disappearance of red tape? He was in before he knew what he was agreeing to. The thrill seeker in him couldn’t have turned it down if he tried. Sure, it’s dangerous, but so’s his day job. His parents had safe jobs and they both died violently anyway. If he’s going to go, then he’s going to go fighting for something he believes in.

Please Provide At Least One: - Playlist - Mock Blog - Expand on one or more Traits

Ambivalent - Not out of genuine uncertainty, but because Edgar knows that you can’t take ANYTHING at surface value. He’s cautious about judging a situation or a person preemptively, but has also learned to trust his gut on certain things. Edgar sees the world for all it’s shades of grey, and sometimes it takes a minute to decide how much darkness is too much darkness, or if the light in a person is enough to turn something around. What he does, both on and off the clock, require judgement calls that could very well end up with someone hurt or dead. It’s not something he takes lightly.

Violent - He doesn’t have a temper. Edgar is actually an incredibly patient person, with an incredibly long fuse. Too long, in some cases. But once that fuse is lit all the way to the base… Once Edgar starts swinging he doesn’t know when to stop. He doesn’t know HOW to stop. He will keep going, and going, and going, until someone either pulls him off or his opponent is too unconscious to fight back. There’s this rage inside of him, burning so hot, and once it consumes him all he can do is let it burn and deal with the aftermath.

Stoic - It’s a word acquaintances and co-workers are more prone to using. Or, if he’s in a bad mental space, his loved ones might call him it, too. Edgar has some damn high walls built up around him. If you don’t know how to climb them, he’s not going to help you figure it out and he’s not going to give you much to work with either. He’s hard to read and quiet, downright humorless. It’s a little unnerving, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been called intimidating, either. Amelia’s the nice one. Not him.

Skilled - A lot of things come easy to Edgar, but it’s more than natural talent. He works hard to be the talented wizard that he is, trains constantly to be the best duelist and fighter he can be. Edgar did great in school because he knew, even then, that talent and skill weren’t the same thing. It wasn’t enough to be good at something. Not when his very blood demanded more from him.

#about #my unsubmitted app #more for personal use than for your reading pleasure #feel free to ignore this

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shreddedparchment · 6 years ago

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You’re My Mission Pt.05

You Have To Sit Right Next To Me?

9/23/2018

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4,591

Masterpost

Warnings: annoying fluff, frustrating fluff, language

A/N: Making leaps and bounds without actually making leaps and bounds. You’ll see what I mean. This boy...this Bucky boy...he’s a touch cookie. Do y’all like the burn? Is it hot enough for you?! Let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. It made me giggle. Also, if you’ve never seen the Princess Bride, shame on you. Go watch it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Credit for this pic after LOTS of research led me to THIS blog. Someone had taken it and posted it on Pinterest without any sources cited or credit given. Not cool, internet!

Sergeant Barnes has you wait outside the water therapy rooms, perched on a bench, dressed in soft black sweatpants and a tight black tank top. Both of them say Wakanda. The sweats have it along the right thigh in bold grey lettering, spaced out vertically. The shirt has it small, in the same shade of grey over the left side of your chest, horizontally.

After struggling to pull your boots on you sit back, breathing hard as you stare down at the untied laces.

You kick with your leg at the air both annoyed that you’re almost entirely helpless thanks to your stupid hands and also because you're still thinking about the way Sergeant Barnes’s breath felt on your lips.

He'd been close enough that his warm breath had wafted far enough to touch them. His smile, the way his lips pulled back exposing a straight line of stunning white teeth, the way it reached up into his eyes driving the scowl from his expression leaving you with a kinder, gentler Sergeant Barnes.

You shut your eyes and bang your head against the wall, unwilling to admit what’s happening to yourself.

“You know, they put people in institutions for doing things like that.” His voice is matter-of-fact and slightly uninterested but at least it’s not harsh like before.

You open your eyes slowly, not surprised by his presence.

“Then lock me up.” You turn to look at him and feel your chest tighten. You’re matching. Both of you. He’s wearing the same type of sweats and a matching tank top, only it's for men.

It leaves his large arms exposed and you can’t help it. You ogle his bulging arms quickly, taking in the pleasing image before you know you should look away or it's gonna get weird. Three seconds. That's all you give yourself.

His hair is still slightly wet, he smells like soap and that faint smell of peaches again.

“I tried. Steve wouldn’t let me.” He mutters before moving to stand before you. He looks down at your feet.

“Yeah, well, Steve's nice to me. And not an asshole.” You’re feeling moody. You know its because you’re so frustrated. Maybe you should just give in to the feeling you know is developing?

You have a crush on Steve, what’s so bad about also crushing, however unwillingly, on Sergeant Barnes too? Neither of these crushes will ever develop into anything anyway.

“That's because you don’t really know him.”

Sergeant Barnes throws his balled up dirty clothes at your face and it fully obscures your view, plunging you into a mass stink of his sweat.

“Ew! Jerk." You quickly pull the stinky clothes from your face and look at him, ready to give him a glare worthy of death, but you find empty space where he had just been standing.

You feel a tug on your foot and with slight surprise you lean over the bundle of clothes to get a good look at Sergeant Barnes as he tightens your laces and does them up, his expression stoic and fixed on your feet.

Once again, you’re assaulted with a flutter of hummingbird wings at the base of your stomach.

He taps your right foot twice and holds his hands open, waiting for your left. You swing your right foot back and gently hold out your left. He takes it, scoots closer, and places the boot on his knee then begins to lace that one up too.

As you watch him tie your boot, you begin to narrow your eyes at him, suspicious suddenly because once again this is an unexpected kindness.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You ask again, whatever he might say, he's being nice.

“I’m not being nice. I’m taking responsibility for my mistake.”

When he finishes with your boot he gets up suddenly so that your foot falls to the floor with a hard thump, pulling you forward with it. It doesn't hurt but the movement is rough.

“What mistake?” You ask, your voice harsh because the contrast of his gentleness with his petty meanness is frustrating.

As he straightens up he reaches up and begins to pull his hair up into a full-on bun. You try not to gawk. This shift that he’s doing, going from mean to nice and back to mean has you so confused and stressed you’re not sure whether to like the way the hair falls around his face or not. His eyes are so clear, ice blue that you want to stare but he’s such a jerk.

He points at your hands as he finishes with his hair. “That mistake.”

You look down at your wounded hands. “My hands? But I fell. It's not your fault.”

“It's my fault they weren’t treated quickly. They might not be so bad now if I had sent you to get them wrapped up properly.” He sighs. “Sorry."

You blink, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly open. Did he just tell you he was sorry? “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“Alright.” He nods at you, his eyes narrowed to slits, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No, seriously, I didn’t hear you. What did you just say?” You insist, adjusting his dirty clothes on your lap so that you can adjust in your seat to try and look at his face.

He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, his hands clenching and unclenching. He's so obviously physically uncomfortable with apologizing to you that you can’t help but find it funny.

“Cut it out.” He grumbles.

You laugh, one loud ha, followed by a stream of quieter genuine chuckles.

“I’m leaving.” He states and walks off down the long and white sterile hallway.

“Hey!” You protest as you grunt with the effort it takes to try and get yourself up. You’re still clutching his clothes in your arms and you can’t use your hands to get up anyway. “Wait for me, I don’t know where Steve lives.”

You groan as you try and use your legs to pull yourself up but they’re so weak! Still, somehow you manage to pull yourself up and you use the momentum from rocking forward to try and get on your feet.

Instead the top of your head hits a hard, lumpy surface and you fall back onto your butt with an oof.

You look up at Sergeant Barnes's frowning face. You’d hit his stomach. Wait, that was his stomach? Damn.

“Does this mean you don’t hate me?” You wonder. He obviously feels bad about your hands. He couldn’t feel bad and hate you at the same time, could he?

“You’re annoying. And irritating. And you can’t follow orders. You’re also a klutz. You're a terrible soldier and a thorn in my side. I don't like you.” He reaches down and scoops his clothes out of your arms and into his metal grip.

Then, with his normal arm, he reaches down to grab your bicep and pulls you up onto your feet.

He looks at your face as you stand steadily on your feet a small involuntary pout twisting your lips.

He blinks, something like uncertainty passing through his ice blues.

“I don’t hate you, alright? But I can’t stand you either. Come on, or Steve'll eat all the food.” He doesn’t wait for you and moves away at a quick pace which leaves you struggling to keep up.

Scarlet Witch, Wanda, is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met. She’s got stunning red hair, beautiful peachy skin, and you can almost feel the power radiating off of her. Those cheekbones!

“Wanda, come meet Y/N.” Wanda wasn’t there when Steve rescued you. He’d had only Nat and Sam with him that night. “She’s the newest recruit and has already shown a lot of promise in her weapons training.”

Wanda smiles kindly as she wanders in from the kitchen, cleaning her hands on the simple blue apron she’s wearing over her jeans and t-shirt. She’s so incredibly casual. Last time you saw her, she was on the news wearing some tight red outfit. Her work outfit probably.

As she holds out her hand you take it. Wanda notices your injured hands and is sure to very carefully shake your hand. “It’s so great to meet you, Wanda. I’m such a big fan of yours. We don’t have enough kick ass women out there fighting the good fight, am I right?”

Wanda laughs softly, turning an amused look to Steve who is watching you with a soft smile. “I agree. Maybe we can start our own group? We’ll call it Lady Defenders or something.”

“Ooh,” You reply, excited with the name game. “Fearless Defenders!”

“Oh, I like that one better.” Wanda says with a light laugh.

“Don’t you have to have some type of hand-eye coordination to defend the planet?” Sergeant Barnes leans against the doorway to the kitchen, watching you and Wanda greet each other.

His mischievous eyes are on you and his words sting. You frown at him. Wanda however turns to look at him and smiles.

“So that’s what you were talking about?” She then looks to Steve who nods slowly.

“Kinda obvious, isn’t it?” He asks her.

“Just a little bit.” She suddenly turns back to you, ignoring both your and Sergeant Barnes’s confused expressions at the little side conversation they just had. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat so that we can get to that movie. Steve’s never seen it.”

“Okay.” You’re so grateful for female company again. Truly friendly female company.

Your hut mates are very nice but they all have established friendships and they aren’t training like you are with just one commanding officer in private. They train in groups with other cadets and other officers. So, there’s always that wall between you.

Aman and Joshua are the only two that go out of their way to include you in their plans though you have yet to accept a trip into the heart of Birnin Zana to go out and have some fun. You are always too tired to accept.

Dinner is simple. Chicken alfredo pasta, garlic bread, and salads. It’s so good that you inhale most of the food. You’re especially grateful for the wine. The alcohol will help you sleep tonight.

Sergeant Barnes watches you from across the table with disappointment at the way you’re eating. But you don’t care. You smirk at him, spear several leaves of lettuce, a tomato, and a cucumber on your fork and open your mouth wide as you shovel it in.

He sighs, curling his top lip. He’s so hating you at the moment.

You smile and shut your eyes tight then open them again sending him what your mom used to call pretty eyes when you were a toddler. It only makes him sneer more.

After dinner, when you offer to help Steve with the dishes, Sergeant Barnes scoffs, shaking his head as he gets up and leaves the room.

You and Steve pile the dishes together and Steve sends Wanda into the living room, giving her a type of look that you can’t decipher. You peek into the living room through the kitchen doorway from your spot at the table, your hands laden with dishes, and try to see what Sergeant Barnes and Wanda are doing.

“Bucky, do you mind if I use the big couch? I kinda wanna lay down while we wait for the movie.” Wanda pleads gently.

“No, I don’t mind. Go ahead. I’ll sit over here.” You see his normal hand point to the smaller of the two sofas before he takes a seat on the left side. He puts his arm up on the arm of the sofa and leans back, relaxing in a way that you’ve never seen him do. His voice with Wanda is also so gentle and normal.

You don’t realize that you’re staring.

“Y/N?” You jump, caught in the act. A small plate slips out of your wounded grip and it goes tumbling down onto the floor.

“Shit.” You mutter. You look back at Steve who had been the one to call your name. “Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He says, moving towards you as you begin to squat down to pick up the broken ceramic. “No, Y/N, how about you go have a seat? I’ll have these clean in no time. I completely forgot about your hands. I shouldn’t have let you offer to help.”

Now you know why Sergeant Barnes had scoffed at your offer. Steve nudges your butt with his knee, pushing you towards the doorway.

“Go on, Y/N, I’ve got it.”

You reluctantly head into the living room glancing first at Wanda who has her eyes closed as she lays straight across the large sofa leaving no room for anyone else to sit. With the only remaining seat being next to Sergeant Barnes you take it, falling roughly onto the soft cushion to his right. The jostling makes him turn his scowl on you.

“You have to sit right next to me?” He demands, irritated by your presence.

“Wanda’s lying down. I don’t want to make her get up.” You whisper so that Wanda doesn’t hear you but she’s humming anyway, and you doubt she’s paying you or Sergeant Barnes any mind.

“Whatever.” He spits. “Just stay on your side of the sofa.” He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the large flat screen TV, and doesn’t speak to you again.

“Why are you always so fucking grumpy?” You ask him, irritated now because he was ruining your fun movie night!

He doesn’t even answer you. He just continues to sit facing the TV, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching.

Ten minutes later, Steve finally comes into the room, taking in the way you’re leaning away from Sergeant Barnes, your arms wrapped around your torso—Steve’s modern apartment is actually really cold—and the way Sergeant Barnes sits with his arms crossed, staring at the TV to keep from looking at you.

“Are you cold, Y/N?” Steve asks, concern riddled in his tone. He’s so sweet! Sergeant Barnes looks at Steve then turns to look at you and also observes the way you’re hugging yourself, carefully holding your arms angled so that you don’t touch the injured palms to your shoulders.

You lick your lips and nod. “A little.”

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears down the hallway. His feet are silent on the light grey carpet.

Sergeant Barnes is staring at you, scowling as usual.

“What now?” You ask, so done with his attitude.

“Weren’t you complaining about being hot earlier in the afternoon?”

“We were outside, under direct sunlight. Can’t I even be cold without you criticizing me?”

Sergeant Barnes huffs at your words and then turns back to the TV. You drop it. You don’t want to have a bad night. You want this to be a fun movie night. You deserve some fun, don’t you?

You don’t hear him return but when he does, Steve hands you a blanket and hands Wanda a small blue bowl. She sits up effectively freeing up the end of the sofa which Steve plops himself in.

“Thanks, Steve.” You gush, smiling at him perhaps a little too brightly.

Eagerly you take it and throw it over your legs and then after a moment of hesitation you hold it out to Sergeant Barnes. It's already over his legs but maybe he’s cold and wants to cover his arms?

It's big enough that the two of you can share.

Sergeant Barnes keeps his arms crossed over his chest, his scowl turned to your injured hand, holding the blanket towards him.

“What?” He growls at you, quietly. Wanda, messing with some snacks from the bowl doesn’t hear him but Steve looks up towards the two of you from his seat on the other end of the long couch.

You’re not going to fight with him anymore tonight. You force yourself to be calm and smile, determined to be nice.

“You don’t wanna cover yourself? It's cold in here.” You wiggle the blanket and wait for him to take it. He doesn’t.

“I don’t get cold.” He states simply then turns his gaze on Steve. “Start the movie, Steve.”

You frown at Sergeant Barnes and go ahead and snuggle the blanket up over your arms. Asshole.

“What are we watching?” You wonder aloud.

Wanda smiles at you and hands Steve the remote. “The Princess Bride.”

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to see that!” You gush at the same time that Sergeant Barnes says, “The what?”

You and Wanda both look at him and observe the large panicked frown that’s overcome his stupidly handsome face. Well, it’s handsome when he’s not glaring at you.

Wanda ignores Sergeant Barnes and turns back to you instead. “You’ve never seen it?”

“No. I didn’t have a lot of time for movies growing up, so I really only ever saw the ones they showed us in school. My parents had to scrape up every penny they had to pay the bills, so movies were kind of a luxury. I did get to see It’s a Wonderful Life every Christmas on TV. It’s one of my favorites.” You smile, losing all the tension that you’ve held onto since your arrival here in Wakanda. Your body automatically relaxes, and you don’t realize you’ve teetered into Sergeant Barnes’s side of the couch as you lean back to look at Wanda a bit better.

As the TV comes to life and Steve navigates the menu, he smiles wide. “Hey, Jimmy Stewart. I met him once at an audition during my acting days.”

“You were an actor?!” You ask excitedly, your voice going up an octave. “We have to watch you in something.”

“Er…” Steve stutters, he looks nervous. Uncomfortable. “I don’t know if we’d even be able to find the films to be honest.”

“Are you kidding? With the internet you can find anything.” You giggle stupidly. “Come on, Steve, I wanna see you act.”

Are you flirting? It kinda sounds like you’re flirting. But if you are you don’t mean to. You’re just feeling so light after all the working out and the stress of losing your parents.

“Damn it, Steve, would you start the damn movie?” Sergeant Barnes suddenly snaps.

You don’t see how Steve reacts because you turn to look at Sergeant Barnes with a frown, Wanda freezes beside you.

“What?” Sergeant Barnes demands, taking in your annoyed expression.

But you don’t get to tell him off because the movie starts. The large blue font comes on the screen announcing the title of the film and through the silence a young boy coughs. The black screen fades in to an old baseball video game with funny sounds and graphics. There’s a kid on a bed, playing the game, sick obviously. As his mom comes in and checks his forehead you lean over towards Sergeant Barnes and whisper. He tenses for a moment then slowly relaxes.

“Do you know what that is?”

“It’s a video game. I’m not a moron, cadet.” He whispers back, agitated.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply lamely. You lean back into your spot.

You watch as an older man, the boy’s grandfather, comes in and tries to convince the kid that a book he wants to read to him is exciting and just as interesting as the video game he’s playing. The kid is doubtful. Skeptical but he eventually gives in.

“That sounds like you.” You nudge Sergeant Barnes with your shoulder and he gives you a glare in response. “Have you seen this before?”

“I’ve been a little busy to watch movies.” Sergeant Barnes gripes.

You stop talking as the true story begins with the girl and the farm boy. And the way he says I love you by saying something else. Then the girl seems to realize that the farm boy is confessing every time he tells her the words, ‘As you wish’. And then she finally realizes that she loves him too. The movie cuts to a romantic silhouette of the girl and the farm boy kissing when suddenly the kid interrupts, denouncing the fact that his grandfather is reading him what he refers to as a kissing book. Then he demands to know when it gets good.

“I’m with the kid.” Sergeant Barnes says, turning a disappointed gaze on Steve.

“As I recall, you used to be a fan of the romance.” Steve looks at his friend with raised eyebrows and a small smirk.

You look at Sergeant Barnes whose face is nothing but serious. Pained even. “Things change.”

As the lovers are telling each other goodbye you become so invested in the movie that when a purple man wearing a skin-tight grey body suit with a golden yellow cape walks through the wall and TV as if they were made of mist, you jump clenching your fists so tight you scream both in surprise and pain.

Sergeant Barnes turns to you, annoyance etched across his face because of your scream. The purple man looks to you and then looks at everyone else in turn before looking back at you.

“Please, forgive me. I did not mean to startle you.” The man speaks with an English accent and a strange proper cadence.

You drop the blanket and look down at your hands as they shake. You’d clenched them so tightly that you’re sure if any of your cuts had sealed, they were open again now. Sergeant Barnes adjusts slightly in his seat to look down at your hands, but he doesn’t do anything other than watch you fight through the pain.

“Vis,” Wanda says, chastising the purple man. “Seriously?”

“I’m sorry, I did not realize that you had guests. Forgive me, Captain.”

Steve sighs and nods. “Door next time, okay?”

“Right.” The purple man called Vis says.

“Y/N, this is Vision. He’s an Avenger and not on the run. Vision what are you doing here?” Steve probes, concerned suddenly. You could hear it in his voice. Was there trouble afoot?

You grimace up at Vision as he too greets you without words.

“I…came to see Wanda.” He admits a bit shyly.

Wanda gets to her feet and without further ado, motions towards the hallway. “We can go to my room.”

The man named Vision follows Wanda out of the living room and down the hallway out of sight. Your heart is still pounding as you turn your gaze back on the movie. The girl is grieving. Apparently, her farm boy is dead. How depressing.

“Y/N? You okay?” Steve asks, watching your shaking hands.

You look down at them and shove them underneath the blanket, pulling it up around your arms again, lifting your legs up as well. You cross them. Being compact keeps you warm.

“I’m fine.” You assure him with a forced smile. You lay your hands on your lap, resting them with your palms up.

As the three of you continue to watch the movie—Sergeant Barnes stealing glances at you every few minutes—your breathing evens out as the pain in your hands becomes more subdued.

The girl becomes a princess in order to marry a prince. Suddenly, Steve’s phone rings. He leans back and reaches into his jeans, pulling from a pocket the same flip phone he’d had during your simulation training.

“Excuse me.” Steve says. He flips the phone open and disappears down the hall, probably towards his bedroom. If it’s Sharon, he probably won’t be coming out anytime soon.

You’re left alone with Sergeant Barnes, watching a movie about a loveless marriage. Just what the doctor ordered. Your mind is really on your hands though. You don’t realize it when your eyes start closing. Your head lolls to the left, then the right, then forward. You drift into unconsciousness for a bit and suddenly jerk awake as someone on a boat in the movie yells something about shrieking eels.

You sigh heavily, your hands hurting again. You’re so tired and the pain shocked you right out of your happy mood. And now, with your blanket, you’re so warm. The wine at dinner really did help too. You continue to drift in and out until you slowly begin to slide to your left. Your shoulder lands against something warm and shortly after your head follows. For a moment your sleeping body is still and then you breathe in deeply, letting the sleep overcome you, as you settle against the warmth to your left.

You’ve never been much of a dreamer so you’re slightly shocked by how vivid your dream is. You’re still asleep in Steve’s apartment and you can still hear the muffled voices of the movie. And yet, you know that you’re dreaming because this could only happen in a dream.

You know you’re settled against Sergeant Barnes’s right shoulder. Somehow, his right arm is also underneath the blanket where it wasn’t before. You can feel your left knee gently resting atop his right thigh. His right arm very slowly rises so that your left arm falls underneath it. His hand takes hold of your forearm and with gentle fingers, he slides his hand down to your wrist. He reaches out, his index finger gently tracing the edge of the bandage on your palm.

His finger traces up along the inside of your hand up along your pinky and gently he caresses each of your fingers in turn. He does that, over and over again.

The movement is so soft, so intoxicating that you shiver and his hand freezes in place. You sigh deeply, still sleeping. When he’s sure you’re not awake, he keeps going.

The dream is so vivid that you feel his warmth as if you were actually nestled into his side, underneath his arm as he caresses your injured hand. Again, as you move to cuddle closer into his side, looking for more warmth, he freezes.

You can smell his soap and the peaches as you sleepily rub your face against his bicep.

Underneath the blanket, where no one can see, he reaches over to the right and gently caresses your right hand too. He pulls it over so that he can hold it more easily and you feel him breathe a sigh of relief beside you.

The the sound of a door opening and voices approaching interrupt the serenity of your dream.

All of a sudden, you’re falling.

Your face hits the cushion of the sofa and you’re jerked awake by the impact. You blink, trying to process reality.

The vivid dream still on your mind you push yourself up carefully, your hands still hurting, and look around. Sergeant Barnes is sitting on the larger sofa with his metal arm on the sofa’s, his chin in his metal hand.

He must have moved at some point during the movie.

The credits are rolling and his eyes are glued on you, staring in annoyance.

“Do you always snore like that?” He asks as Steve, Wanda, and Vision meander back into the living room.

It had been a dream. A very vivid and very…very confusing dream. You feel sad suddenly that it wasn’t real. You look at your right hand, your heart aching as you wish that it had been real. You carefully move to push yourself up with your left hand but freeze because the cushion you just fell on, the cushion that Sergeant Barnes had abandoned to get away from your snoring, is still warm.

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