#took my tshirt off because i was warm and we’re just chilling
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quillkiller · 10 months ago
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my sister told me i look like an mc dyke
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iwannaban0nym0us · 2 months ago
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Y’all I’ve got a new crush, I haven’t made a post like this in a while but I think this is gonnna be one of my long rambly posts
I’m so screwed, I like her so much, like head over heals, writing poetry about her, can’t stop thinking about her, every excuse possible to see her or talk to her or text her
On one hand I’m not even sure if she’d date someone nonbinary but on the other hand I haven’t felt like this since my last ex 2 years ago (it’s wild to me that it was that long ago)
This is reminding me sooooo much of my last ex but I think it’s managing to be in a good way (I really really hope it’s a good way) it’s the same kinda friend of a friend to fast friends progression I had with my ex
As of like a week or two ago we weren’t really friends but like we’re classmates and teammates and have a lot of mutual friends and know each other comparatively well, but now now we’ve been texting for 2 hours pretty much nonstop
Over the past 2 weeks I’ve slowly tried to increase our friendship and you could say it’s gone well, I’ve used robotics and our English class as an excuse to talk to her as much as possible and I stop by her friend group in the mornings or at lunch sometimes too since I get along with all of them well
This week I’ve had the brilliant excuse of a lot a lot of robotics stuff that we both need to help out with a lot of our lunches and afternoons have been spent working together (and w/ teammates) on stuff
Monday after we both left from robotics (her to go home me to go watch the boys soccer game w/ my team) and that’s when the first like actual thing happened, we’d texted a bit previously but almost never about anything besides logistical stuff, but but on Monday SHE texted me just a casual comment about being tired and how I was going to watch the soccer game but then it lead to a whole text conversation about some random stuff
Tuesday not much happened but she was very stressed when I saw her after school and I gave her a hug and texted after to check in on her and she said thank you for the hug with heart hands
Wednesday, that was a day of big things lol, at lunch we were working on robotics together and she said she was cold and I was actually warm so I took off my long sleeve shirt (dw I had a tshirt under) and with a bit of convincing I got her to wear my shirt and holy shit it was so cute, she’s like an inch taller than me but I’m definitely bigger than her (and like my shirts baggy) so it looked oversized on her and it was mine and aaaaaaa save me
Then I saw her after an awful soccer practice on Wednesday and I was literally soaking wet but I still managed to get a good bye hug from her and then she ended up being delayed leaving so I stayed and talked to her for a bit longer
Also throughout the week I’ve been like slowly building up physical contact, a hand on a shoulder here or there, leaning into her a bit (she’s leaned back sometimes which always gives me butterflies) or putting my head on her shoulder when I said I was tired (she leaned her head on mine)
Now today, I saw her a bit in the morning and between classes and at lunch she stopped by robotics and we chatted and it was chill and then last block of the day I was in the shop and she came by and we talked and even like helped out with cleanup from the class and like we talked for a bit and like wandered over to where her friend group hangs out but we kept talking even tho her friends were there
Anyway now now oh my god, I texted her about robotics and then she kinda checked in on me because I was so tired today and somehow that has led to us almost continuously texting for the past 3 hours, I was legit kicking my feet and smiling at my phone texting her just talking to her makes me so happy
We’ve talked about so many things and she keeps asking questions and keeping the conversation going and like it definitely wasn’t one sided and our text history is more than doubled now I think lol
During the conversation she said she usually goes to bed at like 10/11 and it’s midnight now and we just said good night,,,, and like she was keeping the conversation going like there were plenty of stoping points, another big win is that I got a “gn [my name] 🫶” so uh yeah
This whole thing is just making me so happy and giddy in a way I haven’t felt since my ex and it makes me so happy, and also like I feel like I’m finally over my ex, like my new crush is on my mind more than my ex and instead of slipping up in my head with my exes name instead of my crushes it’s the other way around
I really really hope this goes well I just like her so much and now like all that stuff is giving me probably unfounded hope
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areiton · 4 years ago
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drowning in love - stony
Read on AO3
~*~ 
The thing is that he doesn't keep his words hidden. They're delicate chicken scratch that he used to trace when Howard left his bruises and when Maria couldn't bother to be around him. 
They were a promise, that one day, someone would be glad of him. 
And then Rhodey spilled into his dorm room, took one look at Tony, sitting cross-legged on the floor and unassembling a lamp and he'd grinned, wide and white and pleased. 
"Oh good, you're here." 
Tony's eyes had gone wide and he'd dropped the lamp and blurted, "It's you, platypus, holy shit." 
And that wide pleased grin went wider. 
*~* 
He doesn't hide it. 
He's got the best fucking soulmate in the world, his platypus, and he's never wanted to hide that. 
But when the giant blonde guy smiling at him while he orders coffee catches sight of his words, all watercolor splashed blues and red, his face goes still and sad and his smiles stop. 
Tony doesn't say anything else, just keeps that smile firmly in place, shoves a tip in the jar and takes his coffee as he retreats. 
*~* 
Rhodey loops an arm around his shoulder, words brushing Tony's arm and tingling. "You gonna come with us tonight?" 
He flicks a look at them--Rhodey in his jeans and tight tshirt and that smile that he only gives Tony, his words a brilliant splash of color. Carol with her long hair blonde and curling, stunning in that tiny red number, her words a curling lick of black. 
"No, I'm gonna study, I think," he says, smiling. 
Rhodey's grin dims, just a little and he steps closer. "You ok, genius?" 
"I'm fine, platypus. Go. Have fun." 
He hesitates, but let's Carol drag him away. 
*~*
This is the thing: words are black, until you meet your soulmate, and white if they die. 
Most parents register a word or phrase, something unusual or distinct, with the ISMD--but Tony had never registered platypus, and Rhodey had never bothered at all. 
This is the thing: soulmates trump wedding vows and military orders, trump laws of man and god, have ended wars and marriages and toppled kingdoms. All in the name of cosmic love. 
This is the thing: not all soulmates love each other. 
*~* 
The blonde watches him. His nametag says Steve, and he’s tall, with these impossible shoulders and tiny fucking waist, giant hands that are so careful when he’s working the levers and machine, deftly creating art in the top of Tony’s drink. 
He doodles, too, when the coffeeshop empties out and it’s just the two of them, him behind his counter and Tony behind his tablet, a million lines of code and four watercolor words between them. 
Because Tony--he knows what those heavy-lidded, guilty stares mean. 
He knows that Steve wants him. 
But those heavy-lidded guilty stares always slide from his ass or his lips, from his eyes and his long fingers--to the words on his arm that he’s never, not once, hidden. 
And they drop away. 
*~* 
“What are you drawing today?” he asks, while Steve presses a panini for him and he inhales the first delicious sip of coffee. 
It burns in the best possible way, chases the chill of Howard’s disapproval and Boston in January away. 
Steve blinks at him and Tony smiles. “I’ve been in here every other day for over a semester. You think I didn’t notice you sketching?” 
Steve tips his head, studying Tony. His words are still covered by the long sleeves of Rhodey’s sweatshirt, and maybe--maybe that’s why. 
Steve slides the sketch pad across the counter, and Tony looks at it. 
It’s--his table, an almost watercolor sketch, the blacks and greys blending with the whites in a way that immediately calls to mind the watercolor splash on his arm. 
But it’s his table, his tablet discarded and long fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, the shape of his shirt in the background. 
Tony looks up at him, and Steve is staring back,bright-eyed and hungry and his heart does this thing--flips and twists--
The door swings open, and he hears, clear as day, “Oh good, you’re here.” 
The color drains outta Steve’s face and he shuffles back, looking sick, and Tony huffs, twisting to look at Rhodey. “Oh my god, platypus.” 
Rhodey’s grin is sharp and pleased. 
*~* 
He loves Rhodey. And Rhodey loves him, this deep and abiding sort of love that settles him when he feels like he’s shaking apart, that feels like home when nothing in his life has ever felt like home. 
But he’s not in love with Rhodey. 
He thinks it’d be easier, sometimes, if he was. If they could be that, too, 
They aren’t. They tried, once--Tony tried, crawled into Rhodey’s bed and pressed a wet drunk kiss to his lips and Rhodey had sighed and wrestled him down, forced him to sleep. 
He was gentle, when he explained to Tony that they were never gonna be more than this. More than friends, brothers, soulmates. 
And it didn’t sting, the way he thought it would. It was right, settled next to that home and safe and loved feeling that Rhodey always gave him. 
Still. 
In a world that saw soulmarks and equaled up to epic love--it was damn complicated. 
*~* 
“Your soulmate,” Steve says, and his words are stiff. Almost angry. 
It’s the first time Steve’s talked to him in weeks--even the glances, all sweet and longing and conflicted--had slowed. 
Tony blinks at him. 
“You should talk to him.” 
He frowns. “Why--did something happen?” 
“Just--this--talk to him,” Steve almost begs, and drops a chocolate croissant on the table before stalking back to his counter. 
Panic clawing at him, Tony bolts for home. 
*~* 
They wore them, the words that marked each other, like badges of honor. 
Tony didn’t get it, really, why Rhodey never complained about being tied to Tony. He just smiled and shook his head and once, when Rhodey dragged Tony home--he understood, just a little bit. 
Because Rhodey was the middle child in a family of five, the one who was peacemaker and forgotten, the son that everyone expected to succeed and no one celebrated when he did. He was loved, deeply, the kind of love so deep and abiding it didn’t need to be stated. 
But he wasn’t seen, really. 
Not until Tony stared at him, bright eyes fixed on him like he was the only star in the sky. 
*~*
Tony swings into the cafe, and the dark haired burly guy is behind the counter. 
“I need to talk to Steve,” Tony says, abruptly. 
“Stevie ain’t here.” 
“That is very clear. I’ll just sit here and wait for him.” 
The man snorts, and digs in his pocket for his phone. “Your boy is here. No, I don’t think he’s gonna move. Just get your ass down here, man.”
He huffs, and pockets the phone. Eyes Tony sharp and serious. “You better not hurt him.” 
*~*
They never said--not publicly--what kind of bond they shared. 
It was no one’s business but their own. They were close, Rhodey falling into Tony’s space and Tony curling into Rhodey’s lap, easy affection and teasing nicknames, and people made their own assumptions. 
They never cared. 
*~* 
Steve’s gaze immediately tracked to the big guy behind the counter, and Tony, tucked into his corner, watched, the way they communicated without a word, the tension easing in Steve’s shoulders, and the little smirk, cocky and knowing, on the other man’s lips before he pushed off the wall. “Gonna close up early, punk.”
And he knows, he knows what that kind of easy intimacy and closeness means, what that word means, heavy hung in the air and easing the tightness in Steve’s eyes. 
“See ya at home, Buck,” Steve says, his gaze finding Tony, and something sure and hot settles in his gut. 
*~*
He’s asked about it, sometimes. He’s never made a secret of his mark, never done anything to keep it tucked away or hidden. He’s asked about it, when it gleams bright and beautiful at the world and his date sways, blonde and beautiful and not his. 
But Tony may not hide his mark--might flaunt it, because his Rhodey loves him, wants him, needs him and there is not a single person in the world better to be loved by--but he’s never once answered questions about the mark. 
He merely smiles, when they shout questions, while Howard stiffens and Tony flirts and slides his way out of the questions. 
Because the words--they were a promise, that one day someone would want him--and he did, Rhodey did. They were his armor, the shield between him and a world that only wanted him for what he could give them. 
Rhodey though--Rhodey was his, and Tony? He’d always been fiercely jealous and bad at sharing. 
*~* 
“Show me your mark,” Tony demands. 
Steve stared at him, his head tipped curiously as he watches, as Tony pushes out of his corner, and into Steve’s space. 
His mark is brilliant, a splash of blue and red and hues of gold shot through. It’s bare and glaringly evident, the sleeves of his sweatshirt shoved up over his elbows. 
Steve hesitates, and Tony reaches for him. “You watch me. You stare at it, and you stare at me.” 
“You’re wrong about him,” Tony says, and he smiles, fingers running gently over the dark blue band around Steve’s arm. “He’d never hurt me. He’s not--we’re not like that.” 
Something bright and hopeful flickers in Steve’s eyes and Tony murmurs, as gentle as a caress. “Show me?” 
Steve sighs, and he strips the band away slowly, his shoulders and jaw stiff. 
His word--just the one, scratched in rough hurried script--is pale. Is white. 
Tony’s stomach drops and Steve shakes his head. “Bucky--when he lost the arm--it went white. He’s--you met him, he’s fine, but--” 
“But you keep it hidden,” Tony says, softly. Steve nods, and Tony licks his lips. “Do you watch mine because you miss your own colors--or because you want my words.” 
“I love my soulmate,” Steve says, soft, fierce. 
“I love Rhodey,” Tony says, and steps closer, a long line of warmth draped across Steve’s chest. “But not all love is romantic, sweetheart.” 
Steve’s eyes go wide, and his hands--his big, broad hands that are so gentle and so capable--close over his hips. 
The kiss is soft, a gentle brush against Tony’s lips that feels like moth wings and a promise as intoxicating as the one written on his arm. 
*~* 
Rhodey is his home, has been since they met and his wrist burned and brightened and warmed. 
Steve--Steve isn’t his home, isn’t written into his soul and skin. 
But he holds Tony in the dark, and his fingers tangle with Tony’s in the bright green spring, and his eyes are soft and warm, when he stares at Tony, when he murmurs promises and praise against Tony’s lips, and fucks him hard. 
Rhodey glares and huffs and threatens Steve, once, when Tony is in the bathroom. Bucky does the same. He’s not terribly surprised--he is a little pleased. 
They are very good soulmates after all. 
*~* 
When they marry, years later, their soulmates stand with them, and Steve’s mark is pale white and faded and Tony’s is a riot of watercolor, and they’re sandwiched between the two who loved them first and last and always. 
Tony kisses Steve, a ring burning on his finger, and words burning on his arm, and drowning in love. 
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stardancerluv · 5 years ago
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Joker & I
Being Joker’s Girl
Joker x Y/N, Joker x Reader
Summary: You spotted Joker dancing down the stairs, and were forever smitten with him...he’s broken out...what will happen now.
You woke up with a start. Your heart was racing and were out of breath. You dreamt that the cops had pinched Joker again. It made you feel lost.
Looking beside you, he was still soundly asleep. He was on his back, his make-up smudged from their passions. You could only imagine how your face looked. Sitting there, the moonlight had crawled in and your eyes adjusted. Now, you could look at him, and not worry about him catching you, you finally took in a few of his scars. They saddened you, during the course of his trial you found out that his mother had let him be abused. What woman could do that?
Feeling thirsty, you carefully got up, grabbing his t-shirt and retrieving a pair of his pajama pants you made it to the kitchen and poured yourself some juice in one of the new cups.
Going back to his room, you closed the door and sat in his chair sipping the juice. He had rolled over to his side, the other night when he had done that he had pulled her close.
“Y/N,” you barely could hear him say your name. You actually had thought, he had just murmured in his deep sleep. “Y/N, where ...?” He asked and patted your side of the mattress.
You put your mug down and went over. “I’m here....I’m here.”
Strands of his hair were in his face as he looked up in the direction of her voice.
In his half sleep cloaked face, he looked so lost. You slipped back out of his pants and crawled back beside him. “There you are.”
He slightly leaned against you as he pulled you close to his side. “I’m here.” You say softly, then you take one of his hands and kiss his palm.
Laying back down, he rested his head on your chest, inhaling deeply all you could smell his special scent, it made you both happy and excited. You let your fingers drift through his strands before exhaustion once again weighed heavily on you and it consumed you.
When you awoke again, thunder erupted in the sky above. A familiar chuckle, filled your ears after. “Morning, Red. It appears a little thunderstorm startles you.”
You rub one your eyes, yawning. “Only because I didn’t expect it.” You smiled as you saw Joker watching you, much like you had the night before.
“That is a good point, to be fair.” He seemed to just seemed to soaking you in. “I have some good news, the boys are not here at the moment, we have the house to ourselves.”
Delight coursed through you. Not till he said it did you realize how much you wanted time with just him, not wanting to worry about any of them.
“So I want you to come with me.”
You stretched under him, then smiled. “Alright, what are we doing?”
“Let’s wash off last night.” He chuckled again, “you’re just like a kitten after sleeping all day.” He smiled.
“Ok.” Getting up, you followed him to the bathroom. A bath was drawn.
Looking in the mirror, you giggled. Your hair was wild like a lion’s mane his makeup, your own makeup was a smear of colors.
Gently, you stepped in and Joker stepped in and sat with on the edge. He grabbed some of the wash. Soon naturally, he washed up your arms and back. You grabbed some soap and washed your face you opened one eye, “did get it all?”
“Look towards me.” Then with gentle hands he washed your face and rinsed it. “There we go, now your hair.” You sighed enjoying his fingers in your hair as he washed and rinsed it.
You looked at him over your shoulder. “Your turn.”
When you came across the first scar you gave it a kiss. “Y/N.” He finally said.
You met his eyes, “The past is where it is. We opened a new chapter in our lives, yesterday. Leave that one closed.”
“It will be hard.” He swallowed. “A half smiled crooked upward. “I will try.”
“Good.”
The water turned green as you washed and rinsed his dark strands. Draining it out, you both grabbed towels. “I am so glad we bought these.” You saw him take out a razor and shaving cream. Kissing his shoulder, you went back to his room and got dressed in the new dress you bought while you were in Gotham’s market enjoying the spoils from the banks. You tidied the blankets and pillows so it looked like a made bed once again. You put out the clothes for him to wear while you went around to but stuff for the hideout.
Drawing your hair up into a ponytail, you stopped by the bathroom to find him shaving the shadow that had darkened his face. “I will make us some breakfast.”
He met your eyes in the mirror and nodded. “Sounds good.”
Distantly, you heard him discuss with someone about meeting at the Galleria in Metropolis. You had only been there once and at night. Would be nice to go there and get out of Gotham.
You went about putting on some coffee, taking out a pot you warmed some milk for the oatmeal he always seemed to have on hand, and brought out a few cookies that the men had not inhaled.
“What is this???” You heard Joker, call outrage filled his voice. “I said, “What is this?”
You turned and squeezed your lips together so not to laugh. He was holding up the baseball cap and the tshirt for the Gotham Gators.
You shrugged, “You need to blend in when we go to the mall.”
His eyes narrowed at you. “Good idea. But I will not like wearing this stuff.” Sometime later he came out in jeans and the items.
“Damn,” Was all you could say, you went over and put the oatmeal and his cup of coffee. “Here you go.”
He shook his head. “How do people wear these?” He pulled off the baseball cap.
You shrugged and sat next to him with your own breakfast.
“Y/N, I was wondering, can you drive?”
You nodded. “My uncle made sure despite living here in Gotham, that I always knew how to take care of myself. So I know how to drive stick and standard. Why?”
Joker, now shrugged. “Maybe you can show me one day.”
****
“What the fuck are you wearing boss?” Paul asked once he twirled a seat around and joined them at the table. He eyed the baseball cap.
Joker, looked at him annoyance splashed across his face. “It’s a disguise.”
“Oh.” He paused and shook his head. “So how are we doing this today?”
Joker, took a deep sip of his coffee. “We’re driving with you to Metropolis. Henry and Michael are bringing their vans for us to fill up. We then come back here.”
Paul, nodded. “That’s solid.”
****
“Ever been to Metropolis boss?”
Joker shook his head. “Never had an interest.”
Paul, looked back at you, the look gave you chills. You still didn’t like what he did to you when he broke out Joker. You were nice to him, since he helped Joker escape.
“Only at night, I drove through it with my uncle for a gig.”
“Well, it’s like Gotham only cleaner.” He shrugged. “Their newspaper is huge there.” He smiled to himself. “One of their reporters is especially nice on the eyes.”
****
Umph, you let out a heavy sigh as you helped pushed in the box for the ottoman then that was followed by boxes for a few tables, a tv, a few bed frames including the one that would be for Joker’s bed. In the other van, it was filled with lamps, chairs, appliances and a few rolled up carpets.
****
You were happy to say that Joker and had let you wander about a bit in doing so you got him some things. Lastly, she grabbed a few things that she could keep there. Those bags you stowed in the back seat where you sat in Paul’s car. When you were done putting the bags there you gasped as you found Joker seating again in the passenger seat. “Are we leaving?” You had not heard him.
“Soon.”
You went over to Joker’s side of the car. You saw him handling a gun. Which he then quickly stowed back in the glove compartment of Paul’s car. You raised, your eyebrows. “Everything ok?”
“Yes.” He took a step so that he right in front of you. Reaching behind you, he pulled out the ponytail. He smiled as your hair fell in waves around your shoulders. “I like your hair down.”
You smiled up at him. “I prefer it that way too.” Bringing a finger under your chin he tilted your face up more, and he gave you a quick kiss.
“If you are ever unhappy, you tell me alright?” You nod. “Good.”
****
You couldn’t get over the long empty stretches of road between Gotham and Metropolis. There were not even farms.
“Paul, can you pull over?”
“Sure thing boss.”
With a rumble and a crunch of gravel the car came to a stop.
“Y/N, why didn’t you put your bags in the trunk?”
You couln’t help but shrug.
“Paul, can you put Y/N’a bags in the trunk?”
Paul, looked at him and then you, he shrugged. You climbed out and helped take out the bags. “Y/N, you are not so bad.” Paul said to you.
“Thank you.” In you he uncoiled a very ill at ease feeling. You didn’t want or need his approval.
A loud crack, made you jump and scream without even thinking. You opened your eyes, which you had not realized you had closed. Your heart was racing. Despite being in that silly t-shirt but the jeans and dark shoes, he looked good. He finally lowered his hand. Then it dawned on you. Looking down, you saw Paul dead at your feet.
“You killed him.” You looked between Paul and Joker.
A wicked grin curled his lips. “I did.” He tucked the gun behind him. “I did not like how he treated you when he broke me out.”
“I didn’t either.” Without thinking, you immediately went along side Paul’s body and pushed it. Pushing it again, it finally rolled on its own accord and disappeared down the embankment.
His grinned widened even more. “Come here kitten.” He beckoned to you, you dusted your hands off and happily went over.
He put his arms around you, “I told you, your mine.” He looked down and wrapped his arms around you. “No one will ever treat you badly ever again.” He crushed his lips into yours then.
@ridiculousnerd
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moonchild93liner · 6 years ago
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Kiss and Make Up (Hoshi - smut)
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Soooooooo hey, long time no see, I’ve been with this in my head for the past days and there’s a second chapter so wait for it... It’s pretty late for me and I will fix this put on the masterlist etc later ok, ok.
You’re basically friends that once in a while end up kissing each other at parties but don’t exactly stay together after that.
Words: 2.036
He was a friend of a friend and we'd only see each other at parties from our common friends, we hooked up at the clubs and after that we'd always fight because of something, it was like our personality didn't match outside parties but he knew the effect he had on other people, damn even boys would check him up from time to time, he was a real tease and DAMN he got some dance moves. I've never really seen him with other girls or guys before, my friends also would never talk about him being with someone else to be honest and at the parties he would only stay close to his friends too busy enjoyng the music.
The last two parties I stayed home, I was so sick of this stupid game, I mean, if we are meant to be we ARE meant to be, it's not a little fight that would tear us apart, after every fight he would come saying sorry because he felt really bad and wanted to be friends again, fuck.
- Y/N, c'mon, it will be nice, I promise you, no boys, just us. - My friend was sitting on my couch begging me to go to another party with her because she really wanted to go out and had nobody to go with her.
- I know Soonyoung will be there, no way. - Yep, it was another friend in common and he's so predictable.
- No, I mean, yes he will be there but c'moooonnnnnn, we'll stay together until the end, pretty pretty please? - She was one of the best friends I had and she knew I would do almost everything for her.
- (...) K. - And I rolled my eyes.
- YES! You won't regret it!- She hugged me tight.
- Now go, we only got a couple of hours to get ready, I need to shave my legs.
She left my house and oh well, I started to get ready to this oh so awesome party that I was surely not looking forward to it and I will not but I'm sure I will regret it, the things we do for friends.
I took a shower, picked some nice and tight jeans so that I wouldn't have to shave (first world problems) since I wasn't planning on leaving the party accompanied and a loose tshirt, some snickers and that's it. Put my makeup and waited for my friend to get ready. While waiting as I was checking my instagram I saw Soonyoung's stories, he was indeed going to the same party and hell he looked good, he had this squishy cheeks with the most adorable smile but also the most piercing eyes and when he decided to do some makeup it would get 10 times worse, it was almost irresistible.
My friend called me and after hanging up I took a deep breath and stood up to get going. She was all way more dressed up as me, we stopped by the convenience store to get some drinks and after we were a little more loose we headed to the dance club. It was pretty late so he was already there for sure, it was just a matter of time before we bumped into each other.
- Let's grab our free drink and find a nice spot. - I anticipated and pulled her with me.
After two more drinks, as my friend couldn't take hers we were ready to party. I myself am strong when it comes to drinking, I couldn't say the same about my friend but since I wasn't planning to leave with anyone I would might as well take care of her tonight.
We started to dance and from the other side of the room I thought I saw a pair of familiar eyes but it could be just my imagination, as the drink reached my head I started to dance and my mind went off, I didn't care about my surroundings, my friend was long gone wasted dancing with her own thoughts but every once in a while I would check up on her.
All I Wanna Do by Jay Park started to play and that was my jam, I rocked my whole body to the beat with closed eyes, I know my moves are not the best but fuck it, I just wanted to enjoy myself. By the chorus I felt a body approaching me from behind and rocking with me I knew well whom those curves were from but kept my eyes closed because that wasn't important at the moment.
His torso found my back and after some moments his hand found my waist, I was so lost in the song I didn't notice that unconsciously I moved a step back and now our bodies were almost glued together.
- Nice moves... - He whispered in my ear but I pretended not to listen, the trance I was in slowly fading and my surroundings starting to come to life again.
- I've missed you... - He tried again and this time I turned to face him, his hair was still dry, sign that he didn't dance this much since he arrived. I kept staring at him waiting for what he got to say.
- Where were you? - He (dared to) ask.
- Doing my stuff, you know, working, studying, trying not be fooled again. - I put some intonation on the last workds and he seemed to get the point.
He fit his head in the crook of my neck and kept it there as the song went on.
- You know I would never do that to you... - He started to slowly push me to the closest wall and proceeded to pin me against it, I just stared at him.
- C'mon, you are never like this, why give me such a hard time today? - He licked his lips and looked at mine.
- Buy me a drink and I will think about it - I lifted one of my eyebrows and looked at him from top to bottom.
He took my hand and guided me to the bar, ordered our drinks and took a sit on the only chair available but after realizing it he was about to get up and give his seat to me but I stopped him putting my hand on his shoulder, he looked at me questioning it and I sit on his lap, he tilted his head so confused, it was cute, I smiled passing my fingers through his hair, it was starting to get wet.
- You look cute. - I simply stated, he was wearing almost the same clothes, just different color of tshirt.
- Don't even need to say the same to you. - He answered embracing my waist with his arm, drawing circles with his thumb on top of my shirt, I started to drink in silence waiting for him to give me a good reason to spend the night with him.
- Baby, listen, I know I say this a lot but I truly am sorry, you see, I didn't even drink today, I just came because my friend really asked me to, if it was for me I would've stayed home now I'm happy that I came because I got the chance to talk to you, you don't answer my texts anymore, you have all the reasons to be mad but let's just enjoy the night, I know how tired you are of all of this, believe me, so am I, what do you say? I won't hurt you tonight, huh? - He told looking at me as I tried to focus on not looking back because I know that would be my weak point but when he asked he pulled my chin whith his fingers so I could finally look back.
- If only that would be true... - I finished my drink, got up, grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the dance floor, what I didn't see was him giving his drink back to the bartender and following me with the dumbest smile.
Another song was playing, when we found the spot we were previously my friend looked at me questioning what she was seeing and I just bounced my shoulders unamused.
He stood behind me again, again with a hand on my waist, he had this habit when we were together, he would always find a way to be touching me, we were daincing and as the hours passed by the songs grew heavier, he was now with his hand on my tigh, something he never did before.
- Very tipsy for someone who didn't want to come. - I said low enough just for him to listen.
- You didn't see but I gave my drink back just like I got it. I'm not even close to drunk. - And for some reason that gave me chills, we were always a little tipsy when we hooked up so our actions, the ones we remember and were not a blur, were always justified by the alcohol but seeing him like this demonstrating a certain desire sober was something definetly new. If I was sober I wouldn't come close to him in first place because sober he is way out of my league, I'm not that bad but also I'm not the most pretty girl in the club and that's exactly he could get with his looks, sober or not.
He squeezed me tigh and I turned to face him, both his hands on my waist now, a clear blush on top of my cheeks and he smiled, that damn smile.
- What about you? Some extra make up or just blushed because of me? - He put my hair behind my ear and I looked down, stupid Kwonie.
- Ah, look at you, the most cute girl in the club. - He pulled my chin again.
- You know I'm not, and you know how I feel about that... - He knew about my insecurities because one night I got so drunk he ended up comforting me on the curb while I had a mental breakdown because another girl WAY PRETTIER than me tried to hit on him.
- Yes, I'm pretty aware of that but let me show you how do I feel about that. - He turned me again so he was facing my back again and hugged me by the waist with both arms tugging me even closer, he rested his face on my neck and peppered slow kisses, his lips were warm. My hands found their way to hold his and as the next song came on he kept the same position, sniffing behind my ear because he knew that was one of the places I used to put my perfume.
- Still using the same perfume that drives me crazy - I could hear the smirk on his mouth, right after that I couldn't stop the same one on my face as well.
- Really? - It was just a confirmation because to be honest I didn't know what to do and my body was a whole mess.
- Do you even ask? Feel for yourself... - He then pulled me a little tighter and my eyes popped when I felt an extra excitement coming from behind me between his legs.
- ... You underestimate yourself, everytime we're together this happens but I've never been this close to show you. - He whispered right into my year being very careful to not let anyone else hear.
I cursed under my breath and he chuckled darkly.
- Y/N CLAIRE JUST CALLED ME, NICK IS IN TROUBLE AGAIN, LET'S GO! - DAMN, my friend wildly appeared looking totally sober grabbing my hand and darting away, I was so caught by surprised that I just had time to look at Soonyoung and mumble sorry but it was time enough to see him rolling his eyes and say before he turned around and disappeared.
- Fuck this shit, I'm outta here. - That son of a bitch, so it's just a matter of getting laid?
The gif is not mine, it also don’t exactly match the story, it was just because I had to find some Soonyoung with a badass face and some makeup on.
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periwinkle + renison or maroon + andreil for the ask thing!
I'm doing both because I can!!
Renison: periwinkle
The crisp winter air brought a little chill into the quiet life of Allison and Renee as they walked along the pavement. Renee's wool mittens itched Allison's skin, but she would never admit it and pass up the chance to hold her girlfriend's hand.
Always choosing fashion over practicality, Allison had purchased a wool scarf the same periwinkle blue as Renee's mittens. Unlike Renee's mittens, however, Allison's scarf sparkled.
As another gust of wind cut through the air, Renee shivered violently. Allison looked over, concern knitting her brows together. "Do you want to head back?" she asked. Renee shook her head.
"Could we stop for a warm drink at that café we like?"
"Anything for you, Ren."
Allison kissed the top of Renee's head and wrapped her arm around Renee's shoulders, pulling her in close to shield her from the cold. Renee smiled to herself and gladly tucked into Allison's side. Allison didn't need to know that she wasn't really cold anyway.
~~~
Andreil: maroon
The music at Eden's was much louder than Neil remembered. It was pounding, pounding, pounding and his head was starting to hurt. Maybe it was the events of the day prior to their trip to Columbia, or maybe it was the music, the alcohol, the sweaty heat, that set Neil on edge, but regardless he was ready to leave.
Andrew was presumably off getting drinks, and so Neil waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until Andrew finally arrived with drinks. It was enough for four people, but Andrew drank enough for three and a half to make up for it. Neil, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer, decided he was ready to go.
"Andrew, can we get out of here?" Neil shouted over the music. His head throbbed.
"Ready so soon, junkie?" Andrew yelled in reply. The wild grin twisting his face brought Neil back to the days when Andrew was medicated, and as such Andrew was too drunk to drive.
"Give me your keys," Neil said, standing up from his place at their table for two. "We're going now."
Andrew rolled his eyes but complied, holding out his arm to link with Neil's. As Neil led himself and Andrew out of the club, he caught an eyeful of a muscular torso clad in a skintight maroon tshirt.
"You got a problem?" the tshirt wearer slurred. He was easily six feet tall and two hundred pounds of muscle.
"No, we're just leaving," Neil said, stepping around the man. The man, however, was less than pleased.
"What the hell, man!"
Neil felt hands on his shoulders and suddenly he was on the ground. Not one to be discouraged by a severe height disadvantage, he pulled himself to his feet and squared his shoulders. Before he could retaliate, a fist was colliding with the man's nose.
"Leave my boyfriend alone or it won't be your nose next time," Andrew warned darkly. Neil hurriedly took hold of Andrew's arm again and guided him out of the club.
"Boyfriend?" Neil asked.
Andrew looked at him as if he asked what color the sky was. "I thought you knew already."
Send me a color and a ship
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insarations · 7 years ago
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random questions just cause...hereeell we go
1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? *chuckles* yup
2. You talked to an ex today, correct? yes
3. Have you taken someones virginity? ya
4. Is trust a big issue for you? no in fact I trust people way too much
5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? don't really like anyone atm
6. What are you excited for? hmm idk really. I guess my week off of work in a few weeks
7. What happened tonight? not much, just chilling, rainy day
8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? ehh..idk it's just not my thing. but I wouldn't call it "disgusting"..if that's fun for them then cool
9. Is confidence cute? for sure, just not tooo much..fine line there
10. What is the last beverage you had? water and an iced vanilla latte
11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? hmm. not any really besides my dad
12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? yes a couple
13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? I'm not sure yet. Probably go somewhere with a friend or see a movie
14. What are you going to spend money on next? probably either food or coffee
15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? no
16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? not significantly but I feel like I'm always changing in some way, even if it's gradual
17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? not gonna put a name but one of my best friends
18. The last time you felt broken? that's hard to answer cause like i still do, i have for a while now but I mean it's not as bad as it was. about a year ago
19. Have you had sex today? sadly no lol
20. Are you starting to realize anything? a lot of things every second of every day. adulthood has a lot of fucking wake up calls
21. Are you in a good mood? not necessarily in a good mood but i'm not really in a bad mood either..it's just kinda like meh lol
22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? hmm.... maybeee... depends
23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? no. his is brown, mine are blue
24. What do you want right this second? not to have to go to work tomorrow XD and idk maybe a good ol makeout session and/or cuddles
25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? uhhh well like if i were in a relationship with them then wtf, no no lol not good. but like if it was someone i'm not together with then...cool, do whatever the hell you want
26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? pretty much
27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? noo.. like i mean they don't gotta be some sorta jokester/comedian or nothing but just..don't be so serious. laughing is the best
28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? probably one of my cats lol
29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? always do
30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? for the most part. but idk...I don't think I could give someone who cheated another chance. that's just crossing a line of trust that like..I could forive but I wouldn't be able to be with them again. I just don't understand anyone who cheats
31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? that would be my dad so no XD
32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? hmm hard to answer. but I suppose she does
33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? nooo I love soda. with that said though, since the beginning of the year i've cut back on it alottttt for my health. but i still drink it maybe once a week. i used to drink it literally every day multiple times a day.
34. Listening to? currently juice WRLD
35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? sometimes at work but not often
36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? yup
37. Do you believe in love at first sight? yes and no. i hate that question, it's old lets move on lol
38. Who did you last call? i cant remember, probably one of my parents. i dont talk on the phone much
39. Who was the last person you danced with? I dont dance really except in the car with my friends..our own version of dancing XD
40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? cause she was my girlfriend. girlfriends do that lol
41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? a few weeks ago i think
42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? no..we don't hug often really lol we're just not that way but i do hug my mom every now and then
43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? probably a million times
44. Do you tan in the nude? noooooooo. i burn so easy i'd probably turn into one giant tomato
45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? never
46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? nah :/ I miss that
47. Who was the last person to call you? a million car sales people cause i'm stupid and entered info on a website and now it's like the neverending fucking story of sales people calling me like heyyyy buy a jeep and its like yes mam id love to but i'm poor so how about not right now stop calling me thank you bye
48. Do you sing in the shower? heck ya. except not really lately cause i shower at the gym...they don't wanna hear that XD
49. Do you dance in the car? yasss
50. Ever used a bow and arrow? yes, I did archery at camp as a kid. fun times
51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? 10th grade highschool photo. or if it counts, my aunt took my graduation photos..she perty professional
52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? there definitely can be cheesy ones but those are usually the ones i love XD
53. Is Christmas stressful? these days yes -_- never as a kid. I miss those days
54. Ever eat a pierogi? I don't think I have actually
55. Favorite type of fruit pie? not a huge fruit pie person but I guess...apple or lemon. I really don't eat fruit pie though. If  it's gonna be pie then I prefer something like chocolate or peanut butter
56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? so many different things, that's why i never settled on anything XD
57. Do you believe in ghosts? I think so..in a certain way.. like not in the way they show on tv and movies. just idk, i do believe in spirits. There's some stories in my family they are kinda hard not to believe or explain
58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? allllll the time
59. Take a vitamin daily? nah, probably should ?
60. Wear slippers? not anymore, I used to alot
61. Wear a bath robe? same as above. I get way too hot for that now lol
62. What do you wear to bed? usually just shorts or boxers and a tank top or tshirt. sometimes sweatpants dependning  
63. First concert? reba mcentire lol
64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? target. walmart for certain things. but target is just fun
65. Nike or Adidas? neither really but adidas if i have to pick
66. Cheetos Or Fritos? cheetos
67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? I like both, but peanuts
68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? back in the day, crazier. then it was blank space or shake it off...but recently, delicate. many different taylor eras XD
69. Ever take dance lessons? when I was in elementary school and 6th grade yes
70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? umm hmm honestly no. whatever makes them happy :)
71. Can you curl your tongue? nah, i dont got nothing special like that XD
72. Ever won a spelling bee? nahh
73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? yesss
74. What is your favorite book? several...looking for alaska by john greene, the pawn series by robin roseau, and look again by lisa scottoline
75. Do you study better with or without music? havent studied in so long O_o but probably with
76. Regularly burn incense? not regularly. I do from time to time but not as much anymore, my mom hates it lol
77. Ever been in love? yes
78. Who would you like to see in concert? so many... fleetwood mac or just stevie nicks, ben howard, maroon 5, pvris, ariana grande, lana del rey, the weeknd, pink, coldplay, imagine dragons lady gaga, andrew belle, adele, lorde, gwen stefani even though I already did lol...i could go on all day. bottom line, i need to see more concerts
79. What was the last concert you saw? Gwen Stefani a couple years ago
80. Hot tea or cold tea? cold
81. Tea or coffee? coffee
82. Favorite type of cookie? alllllll the cookies. lately m&m. but chocolate chip is always a winner
83. Can you swim well? yes
84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? nahh
85. Are you patient? yes and no. depends on the setting and circumstance lol. I think I'm fairly patient compared to other people but sometimes at work..if the right people push my buttons then oohhh boyyy no
86. DJ or band, at a wedding? hmm.. neither honestly just put on the damn ipod playlist XD
87. Ever won a contest? a couple when I was little lol
88. Ever have plastic surgery? noo. no thank you
89. Which are better black or green olives? greeeeeen
90. Opinions on sex before marriage? go for it. I used to think alot differently when I was younger cause I'm a christian, grew up with traditional values. but *sighs*... things change lol sex is great, go for it but be safe people XD
91. Best room for a fireplace? ANY ROOM. omggg. they should have fireplaces in the bathroom. what a great idea you can just warm yourself while you sitting there haha genius
92. Do you want to get married? If I meet the right person but if I don't ever get married that's fine too lol it's not a priority for me really but if I do meet the right person then for sure
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dee-brief · 7 years ago
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How to be a terrible friend in a few easy steps: 1) Plan an angst-riddled fic for your friend’s birthday. 2) Get so flipping busy in life that said fic remains only 30% done and chilling on your computer as it slowly but surely becomes months after said friend’s actual birthday. 3) Ignore the really, really, really cool prompt fic you got graciously handed because you know you need to finish the birthday fic first before you can start on abovementioned really, really, really cool prompt fic. 4) Finally decide to take your own birthday as an excuse to ignore some RL things to finish said birthday fic. 5) Don’t actually even finish the fic on your birthday but take almost three weeks after it to ignore RL things to write. [5.5) Take so long the person you’re writing fic for actually writes YOU fic in the interim >__<]) Don’t write the birthday fic. Or the prompt fic. Instead, write snippets of an AU nobody but you knows about and that nobody cares about or wants to see.
[blows a streamer] Happy birthday, Sarah! At this point, it’s more an early-ish birthday present for next year than a very belated birthday present for this year. I swear, your actual birthday fic will be written. Someday.
Honestly, even if Camille hadn’t been around the moment Kirsten’s buzzer went off – obnoxious orange with a huge Feed Me! sticker on it, because ‘why not?’ was Camille’s motto – she would have known it was one of those days Kirsten was in an exceptionally bad mood, doing all in her power to contradict all the literature that stated her people were kind, empathetic beings. Whoever had written that literature obviously had one hell of a marketing degree: they knew to leave out the part that her people also embodied the term “hangry” like nobody else in the known universe.
“Are you seriously not going to talk to me because I took out the book you wanted from the library?” Kirsten shoved the buzzer back into her bag and whirled around, a wall of blonde hair and icy silence. “You know we’re roommates, right? You know the book will therefore be in your room for the next two weeks, right? Does it really matter whose name it’s under?” Kirsten continued to march. Camille continued to stride behind her, trying to resist rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in exasperation so she didn’t walk into anything or anybody as they ploughed down the hallways. “Kirsten…” Would strangling her roommate really be such a bad thing? There was certainly no shortage of replacement babysitting jobs. Too bad Camille was attached to this irritating, slightly wonky one. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Our PhDs are so similar it was bound to – Oh, sure, let the swing door close in my face. What is this – high school?” She sighed. “Look, I’ll even let you keep it late on my name. I’ll pay the damn fine. Or whatever will make you feel better for me ‘stealing’ the book you need for your literature review.”
This earned her a little glance over the shoulder, but nothing much more. For the love of Dracula rolled in a doormat – why did she like this insufferable blonde, again?
“Afternoon, Kirsten. Camille.” Ayo smiled up from the forms she was filling in, completely oblivious to the fact that Kirsten was acting like a child instead of a mature, put-together twenty-something who just happened to need some food. Camille almost wished she was allowed to act this irrational and moody from skipping a meal. Her childhood would have been damn interesting, if that had been the case. “Feeding time, Kirsten?”
“Yes,” Camille answered empathetically. “Holy hell, yes.”
“Don’t say that rather delightful oxymoron be heard by too many,” Ayo chuckled, flipping through her papers. “You’re in luck; one of yours is open right at this very second.” She scrawled something down. “Bed four.”
Kirsten thanked her shortly and started down the hallway of curtained-off beds. Camille sighed and sank into a waiting chair, pulling out her phone in anticipation of the boredom. But she hadn’t even loaded any of her new emails when Kirsten came striding back. One look at her friend’s face, and Camille straightened from her slouch – she didn’t need to have seen through Kirsten’s eyes to know who was waiting behind the curtain.
“Where’s Ayo? I want somebody else.”
“She walked off. Looked important.” Camille stood hesitantly and put a hand on Kirsten’s arm. “Hey. Talk to me. You seemed fine with him on Monday.”
“That wasn’t this,” Kirsten said, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tense. “You know what happens when…” She twisted her hands. “I’m with Liam!” she snapped hotly.
Camille took a deep breath so her usual views on Kirsten’s boyfriend would not leave her mouth and make the situation tenser than it actually was. “Last time I checked, feeding off of somebody doesn’t count as cheating.” Kirsten looked at her with big, conflicted eyes, her expression saying what her words could not. “He’s a good guy,” Camille defended. “He would never do – ”
“Of course not. But I… but…”
“I can come with?”
Kirsten pulled a face. “It squicks you out, watching.”
“It’s not the best entertainment ever, no, but if you need me there to… mediate then… Hey, who knows; I might get a front-row seat even if I don’t come. You know flashes tend to happen when you’re stressed.”
“Yeah.” Kirsten cleared her throat, suddenly looking shy. “Yeah. Would you…? I mean…?”
“I’m the best wingwoman ever. And don’t you forget it. Go on. Pale And Ready To Bale is not a good look on you.”
Kirsten gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand, and Camille couldn’t bring herself to feel any irritation or exasperation at having to follow her friend to the fourth curtained-off bed. There was a gap in the curtains, and through it Camille saw the familiar unruly mop of brown curls. The rest of his face was, predictably, buried in his tablet, fingers swiping furiously as he held the screen too close to his face.
“Hell, Goodkin. Hasn’t anybody told the human world about bifocal contact lenses, yet?” Camille said, breezing her way into the cubical.
She laughed, then; not at his flailing jump of surprise, but at the way his face lit up with delight when he saw Camille and Kirsten. She’d thought, in the beginning, that it was just because one had to be somebody who found a very particular genre of things exciting and exhilarating in order to willingly volunteer to be a walking, talking buffet. She still mentally apologised, on occasion, for pegging him as somebody who was joyous to see them just because of what they could give him.
“Ah, hark, the arrival of sweet Melétē  and Mnḗmē.”
The dork probably even pronounced the names of the two muses in the correct Latin. “Does that make you the muse of song? You gonna sing our praises?” she teased back.
“Not after that I’m not: now I’m not amused,” Cameron grinned and then held up his hand for a high five.
Camille glared. “No. That was terrible. You deserve nothing for that crack.”
Cameron’s face fell into a puppydog pout for a moment before he focused on Kirsten. The expression turned so warm, Camille had to glance at the blonde to see what affect it was having on her.
“Evening, Stretch.”
“Technically, for us it’s mid-morning,” she deadpanned.
But Camille could see her resolve to be aloof and cool already cracking under his warmth. Neither Kirsten nor her, already pegged as ice queens by their peers since high school and earning more of said reputation as they mowed through college together, had been able to stand up to the passionate, nerdy genuineness that was Cameron Goodkin. The plan had been to go to the lab the Academy had set up for him and his other human scientists and only do the bare minimum for the study so that Maggie and Turner wouldn’t make their lives hell, making the lives of the humans hell in the process. They had, after all, enough problems to wade through without being the sudden labrats of a feeder who had gone in to have his memories wiped at the end of his year of service and had ended up producing enough notes and theories that they set him up, memories intact, in the unused sub-sub-sub-basement of the Academy.
They hadn’t expected to be wowed by his ‘little human science toys’, or by the theories he was slowly refining about Spirit magic. But the more they listened and watched and let themselves be part of the discoveries he was pioneering, the more they understood why people as ruthless and as dogged as Maggie and Turner had been won over by one scrawny, stubborn human in his mid-twenties.
A scrawny, stubborn human who wore geek Tshirts under his multitude of plaid shirts, Camille was reminded as he removed the plaid monstrosity from one arm. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if she could convince him to take it off all the way so she could bin it – he had a hundred others to replace it with, anyway – but then caught Kirsten’s eye, saw the unspoken message in the gaze, and dutifully turned to face the other way, pretending to be very busy on her phone. She could almost feel Cameron shooting her a curious look; she wasn’t actually allowed to be around when the feeding took place and had therefore never shown up with Kirsten before. But his attention only focused on her for a few moments.
Not that she could blame him – there were all sorts of reasons  a woman with razor-sharp fangs biting you on the arm was a lot more attention-grabbing than the back of somebody seemingly scrolling through Facebook.
She was glad, not for the first time, that slipping into Kirsten’s head naturally meant only that she saw what the blonde was seeing, but didn’t necessarily feel what Kirsten was feeling. It was weird enough having her view suddenly distorted – to suddenly be herself but looking through somebody else’s brain – without having emotions that weren’t hers shoved into her chest. Unfortunately, Cameron’s little machines sometimes had the latter effect. He was getting better at controlling it, but Camille could still remember very, very clearly the first time Kirsten went under and Camille was suddenly not only feeling weakened by Kirsten’s use of Spirit but was also feeling emotions that weren’t hers. They weren’t Kirsten’s, either, and being forced to feel a double whammy of fake emotions still invaded her dreams, sometimes. It had been intense; the foreign emotions had been stronger than her own, drowning out her panic and fear and dislike and making her almost react the same way Kirsten had when Cameron had pulled her out, gasping and disorientated.
It was a good thing weakness had kept her slumped in her chair; she wasn’t sure what anybody would have done if both her and Kirsten had grabbed Cameron roughly and kissed him passionately.
He had dismissed it as magic-science residue the one whole time he’d spoken about it, gently trying to hand Kirsten some of her pride and control back. But one didn’t simply forget. Especially not when the same not-boyfriend person you’d kissed was also under your mouth giving you the blood your entire body craved while he gasped in automatic reaction to the euphoria from your saliva. And, no, Camille couldn’t fault him for that little gasp; she’d been there. She understood.
So, as soon as Kirsten let go, Camille jumped in to be the diversion Kirsten had brought her along to be, calling his attention back to her by whatever means necessary so Kirsten could put her walls back together and pretend it was just another feeding with just another human, and that those not-hers emotions that Camille had also been forced to feel were the only reasons she’d kissed Cameron Goodkin. She diverted even as they both beat a hasty retreat, too fast for him to even get a word in edgeways until they were already closing the curtain.
“See you tomorrow morning! Err… evening?”
Kirsten took a deep breath and shut her eyes. Camille patted her on the shoulder in consolation.
***
Camille missed what happened to start the argument, as her entire concentration was being taken up by Linus excitedly babbling about the new toys they’d installed into the lab and were about to use. It seemed it didn’t matter how many times Camille told him that despite her brief upbringing in the human world, their worlds were now enough apart he was speaking a foreign language to her; Linus would insist on trying to impress her or engage her in the things that were exciting him every time he had a spare moment. Camille didn’t actually mind it, either; Linus was naïve in ways that were dear and amusing, and there was a genuineness and steadfastness to him that Camille felt drawn to. So much so that she’d wondered a few times whether the fact that Linus had made Cameron’s lieutenant even in the deepest dungeon of a vampire college was more telling of the likeness that connected the two scientists than of Linus’ curiosity, passion to pioneer the unknown and geek-streak that ran as wide as the Grand Canyon.
It was, unfortunately, that naivety and that grand chasm that also made him incredibly prone to putting his foot in it. And as much as he was a great guy most of the time, there were also times Camille had to remind herself that a dhampir blow could easily kill a human, so slapping him was not quite the way to go despite what her irritation was telling her.
“Linus,” she tried to interrupt, gritting her teeth to hold in the caustic, acid words she didn’t want to burn him with. “Look, I appreciate the grand tour of the nerd-dom but I – ”
His face disappeared as the now-familiar slight swooping sensation grabbed Camille behind her eyes and pulled. One blink later, and she was staring at Cameron’s face, level with hers for once. And that wasn’t the only difference; the usual spark and excitement were gone from his eyes and face, and he looked tense and wary and a little upset. Camille shook her head in an attempt to break away from Kirsten’s mind, succeeding a split second before Kirsten started yelling, filling Camille in on erupting argument anyway.
“What are you actually doing here?” Kirsten snapped, furiously. “And don’t give me the same old crap you spun Maggie. Why are you here doing this? What’s the outcome, Cameron? What’s the game plan? Or did you really just not outgrow fantasy so much you have to self-insert yourself into escapism like this?”
Linus whispered ouch behind Camille, but Cameron only flinched a little. “My intentions? They’re to make sure you don’t end up like virtually everybody else with your element, Kirsten. They’re to find a way – some way – to stop Spirit turning you insane. A way that doesn’t include dumping all of that darkness and insanity and negative life-force drainage on your bond-mate.”
“Hey, thanks for that bit, by the way,” Camille chirped loudly, hoping to break the intense stare-off. But neither of them looked at her. “The whole Mad Hatter vibe isn’t really my thing, you know? I have no idea about ravens or writing desks.”
“My job is to make sure you and Camille are safe,” Cameron continued, fingers flexing in and out of fists as he stared at Kirsten.
“By ‘keeping me safe’ you mean blocking my magic,” Kirsten accused.
“What? No, I – ”
“That’s what everybody else wanted. One little pill, and I can stop everything from happening to me. I can no longer be a danger to anybody. But I’ll have this thing inside me, forced back, that’s there but that isn’t allowed to breathe. That’s what you want to do to me.”
“Kirsten.” Cameron took a step forward and put his hands on her shoulders. She startled, but, to Camille’s surprise, did not fight her way out of his hold. Not that she would need to fight very hard; at her flinch, Cameron loosened his hold so much his fingers barely brushed against her. “I don’t want to supress your powers, okay? I’m not letting that pill anywhere near you unless it is literally that or your life. And I won’t let that scenario happen.” Kirsten stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before her mouth twisted.
“You do want to take away some of my ability, though. I heard you. You want to make sure I can no longer see ghosts.”
Cameron sighed and scrubbed at his face with one hand. “Cupcake, I…” His eyes searched hers for a long moment. “There’s no evidence the ghosts are real. Only you can see them. It could just be that what you think are real spirits back from the dead are actually just…”
“The start of insanity.” Her voice was cool, brittle and dangerous. “Just because you can’t see them –”
“I know,” Cameron interjected quickly. “I know, Stretch. Maybe it’s because I don’t have your magic. But… I’m not going to take that chance. I’m not going to ignore the possibility that the ghosts aren’t magic but are some sort of way the magic is trying to hurt you.” He was quiet for a long beat. “Even if that means working toward a world where you won’t be able to see your mom again.” She stepped back from his remaining hand on her shoulder, and Cameron let it fall limply to his side. Camille watched them watch each other for a long moment, noting how the whole lab was quiet and waiting. “Are we going to do this?”
Kirsten glanced at Camille, and the brunette gave her her best winning, confident, affectionate smile. “We’re going to do this. But.” She turned and half-glared at Cameron, fierce and unrelenting. “Promise me you will give as much weighting to the theory that the ghosts are real. Promise me you’ll let me try and see the dead instead of erring on the side of caution; promise you’ll take risks where my mom is concerned.”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, and his tone of voice alerted Camille at once to what had happened. “I promise. Of course.”
Kirsten turned and marched briskly toward Camille, pulling up her hair so it wouldn’t get in the way as she walked. Linus slunk off as she approached, and Camille crossed her arms and raised an accusing eyebrow at her best friend.
“What?” Kirsten asked.
“It holds a lot more weight when you’re not compelling the man to make the promise you want him to make,” Camille pointed out. “I mean, are you not usually the one going on at me about trust and shit?”
“I had to be sure,” Kirsten shrugged, but she wasn’t looking at Camille as she said it.
“One day he’ll realise you’re manipulating him. And somehow I don’t think he’ll like it very much.”
“He’ll have to learn to deal,” Kirsten said, stubbornly unrepentant.
Camille rolled her eyes but let it go, flopping in her usual seat for the experiment. To her joy she found the boys had finally listened to her suggestions and bought the good chocolate, and she started on it before Cameron had finished making all the necessary checks.
“That’s for stabilising your blood sugar afterwards,” Cameron said when he caught sight of her. His grin was pure exasperated fondness, and Camille saluted him with the chocolate bar.
“Giving it a head start,” she said around a full mouth, and he rolled his eyes.
“Alright, team, let’s glue her in and see – ”
“Glue her in?” Camille interrupted, incredulous eyebrow raised.
“Well, somebody objected rather loudly to the ‘welding’ metaphor last time,” he said, his gaze on Camille pointed.
“Yeah, well ‘gluing’ sounds just as stupid.”
“Knitting her in?” Linus suggested from his seat.
“What, am I being transformed into an old woman’s blanket?” Kirsten scoffed.
“Pinning her in,” somebody else called from the side of the lab.
“We’ve been over why that one will not happen,” Cameron shot back. “Guys, we’re wasting time arguing about something that doesn’t even – ”
“Folding her in?”
“That one’s not bad. Baking metaphor. What do you think, Cupcake?” A grin twitched at his mouth.
“I will end you,” Kirsten said, very calmly.
“Yeah, she’s still cookie dough. Not done baking yet.” It slipped out before Camille could think; before she could remember that perhaps other people in the room had watched enough vampire cult classics to get the reference. Cameron gave her the oddest look; a mixture of pride at her taking up the referencing torch, confusion about whether it was a relevant reference or just one made because of baking, and a surprised-aching-hope that it did apply to Kirsten; that she wasn’t as eternally unreachable as he thought. “Ugh.” She had to say something to cover up her slip. “Just use the comparatively not-awful one from last week.”
It worked; his face scrunched up as he thought back. “Stitch her in?”
“We’ll use the least gag-worthy while we find something better,” Camille agreed.
Cameron shrugged. “Stitching it is. Alright, everybody. Get ready – on my mark – ”
They’d run the simulation to map Kirsten’s powers and their effects enough times for Camille to no longer be caught off guard by the second-hand emotions and visions. So it didn’t take her long to realise that something was different, this time; something was wrong. It was like each of her eyes was pressed to a different peephole, and she was seeing two separate scenes unfolding while her brain struggled to keep up. On the one hand, there was the usual montage straight from Kirsten’s head into hers – flashes of Kirsten’s life, her father, the sister who had disappeared years ago. But she was also seeing faces that were jarringly familiar to her that Kirsten would never recognise. Kirsten had, after all, come after Camille’s parents had left without a word.
The pain of reliving her abandonment increased and decreased as her mind struggled to deal with two completely different flashbacks at the same time, dialling back enough that it was a distant sort of hurt and then slamming into her as fresh and gutting as it had been on the day they’d left her.
“Camille?”
Kirsten’s memories disappeared abruptly, and suddenly her own were given the spotlight. They slammed into her with such a force she lost whatever small grip on the reality of the lab around her she’d held on to. There were the Moroi, all looking at her scornfully like a piece of trash under a microscope, discussing in loud voices whether she was too tainted to be reformed into a proper guardian, given the way she’d been brought up in the human world. The feeling of being let in only because they were so desperate for dhampir clung to her like a scar that would twinge whenever somebody brushed up against it. There was Theo, pushing her harder and harder despite fatigue and injuries, all under the guise of making her better and stronger and worth something.
“What’s happening to - ?”
“Is that really all you’ve got, Millie? And yet they let you join the fancy place and not me. Maybe it’s cause most of the higher ups are dirty old men. Is that how you – “
“Cami-!”
“Millie, Millie, Millie! Get up!”
There was smoke and fire of younger years; her home was on fire, and she couldn’t get out. And that transformed to her lying on an expanse of nothing, staring at blurry stars, hearing Kirsten screaming for her as she felt herself dying. Kirsten had saved her, hadn’t she? But nobody was coming now. She was dying. She couldn’t breathe.
“What’s wrong with her? What’s happening?”
“Dude, she’s totally not breathing at all. Her heartra – ”
“Don’t! Kirsten, hey! You can’t heal her! You’ll only make it worse when the backlash of using your powers falls on her! Just… let me… Camille. Hey, Pumpkin, hey.”
She hadn’t made everything right. She hadn’t proven herself. And who was going to look after Kirsten, now? Stinger was still out there. The Strigoi were amassing an army. Kirsten hadn’t even declared a magic yet. Damn, everything was fading so fast. What a shitty way to die. What a –
The scene around her jolted and scattered, confused and suddenly not as real as she’d first thought. Something was moving her arms; she could feel them being dragged forward and positioned. But her arms were limp at her sides… weren’t they? Sensation flared into her fingers; a drumming. A steady beat she didn’t really want to focus on, but that was there and attention-grabbing anyway. And then, beneath her other hand, the whoosh of air. Like a breeze passing over the earth, only more deliberate. More like –
Breath. Something was breathing right under her hand.
“Camille, sweetheart, I need you to focus on me, right now. Whatever’s going on in your head isn’t the most important thing right at this moment, okay? You’re not breathing properly and your body’s freaking out and that’s probably making everything feel very, very shitty.”
Yeah. Yeah, it was. She was dying.
“I need you to focus on what’s under your hands, okay? Use those enhanced senses, Supergirl. And then make your breathing and your heart match what you feel. You can do it. Just focus.”
Cameron. The voice was Cameron’s. She knew him. And she’d met him after the night she’d died. Which meant…
A deep inhalation rumbled under her fingers, and she followed its example, gasping in air. It felt magnificent. Cameron continued to murmur things to her – encouragement, instructions, nonsense pet names so she wouldn’t get lost again – and she clung to his wrist with one hand, letting his pulse thrum through her as a metronome for the galloping that was going on inside her chest. Her other hand scrambled for purchase against his chest, slipping up and down the weird-feeling bumps that the buttons on his flannel made.
Eventually, she was able to breathe properly again. Eventually, her heart slowed to just-above-normal; enough to make her head clear. Enough for her to open her eyes. She was on the floor of the lab, and Kirsten and Cameron were both crouched in front of her, looking worried. Kirsten didn’t hug, much, but Camille received an armful of blonde almost as soon as she’d proven she was all there and not dying, and Camille let go of Cameron to hug her back. She had to work incredibly hard to keep the tears from breaking free.
“I’m going to go and call Ayo,” Cameron said, and she saw him stand out of the corner of her eye. “Just relax until she’s here to take a look, okay?”
Camille shut her eyes, tightly, and wished she could shake off the remaining ghosts that clung to her. Something else was niggling at her, though; some inconsistency her over-stimulated brain needed to pick apart and make sense of. There was something off about what had just happened, and she needed to reconcile the truth with the lie her brain had been telling her. But what was the lie?
Cameron returned, and Camille realised at once that he was wearing only a plain Tshirt. His flannel, she realised, had been taken off and thrown over his chair when they’d first come in. So then… why the hell had she been feeling button bumps under her fingers?
“You okay?” Kirsten asked her as she frowned.
“Yeah, I… yeah. Just something I’ll need to figure out, later.”
But later was manic. And then the days wore on, and she forgot, for a long time, about the mystery her adrenalin-fuelled brain had insisted was so important back then.
***
They’d learned how to delay Camille being pulled under into Kirsten’s mind, and she was happily munching on chocolate as she waited and the scientists mapped Kirsten’s brain activity when the noise started and made her instantly alert.
“What is that?” she asked, already getting to her feet.
“What?” Cameron said, distracted.
“That sound. It’s like – ”
Strigoi, Camille thought a moment later, really had to stop trying to emulate bad movies. The three who barrelled their way into the lab did so with a Hollywood flair, and they did so snarling like animals, brandishing crude weapons and – honest to gosh – chuckling evilly. It was so over-the-top that everybody else in the lab stopped to stare for a good few seconds, nonplussed and not yet as afraid as they should be.
And then the battle started.
“Get Kirsten out!” Cameron yelled at Camille, and she didn’t have enough breath to spare to shoot a no duh, genius his way.
She knew she had to pull the Moroi from the experiment and hustle her to safety – but knowing she had to do it and being able to fend off three Strigoi who had weapons when she only had her fists and her feet was an entirely different ballgame. Her training and her desperation and her knowledge of the lab’s layout meant Camille managed to kill one who was just about to turn Kirsten into dinner. But snapping his was mostly a fluke, and Camille knew it. She was no match for two oldish seeming Strigoi, and the best plan was to run the hell out of there. The other two, who had been mostly hanging back, now advanced as a team.
Cameron yelling and throwing something on fire at them was only a momentary distraction; the one nearest him snarled, easily dodged the fireball and then leapt forward in a streak of speed Camille barely followed and Cameron had no chance of tracking. Said Strigoi flipped Cameron’s desk at the human, knocking him clear across the floor and then pinning him beneath the metal.
“Cameron! Cam!” No answer; no movement. Camille’s heart constricted in pain and worry.
At the very least, the loss of Cameron’s computers made Kirsten start to rouse. But it was too little, too late: the most it would do was allow Kirsten to wake up to her best friend being murdered – or worse, turned – just before she got her own blood drained from her body. But to hell with them if they thought they could take Camille down without a damn good fight. They laughed at her as they advanced, deliberately slowly and completely at ease.
She slammed one in the face, breaking her nose, but her partner caught Camille around the throat and squeezed and –
The lab lit up in bright, glaring light. Camille flinched at the sudden brightness, confused brain skittering for the source. Kirsten, mostly awake, hissed and tried to get under cover. The Strigoi burst into flames. With a yelp of surprise, Camille freed herself from the burning, horrifically-shrieking attackers, grabbed Kirsten’s hand, and pulled her out of the wide circle of sunlight. Sunlight. In the lab. Camille looked wildly up and saw a trapdoor in the ceiling had been rolled back to reveal what looked to be a mirror of some sort that was reflecting the sunrise down into the lab. Another look around and she found Cameron, pale and shaky, clinging to a lever in the wall. He was watching the burning Strigoi with wide, horrified eyes, and as Camille watched he slid weakly down the wall and landed in a heap on the floor.
“What the hell?” Kirsten breathed shakily.
It was a sentiment taken up by Maggie and the senior dhampir trainer, Fisher, when they barrelled into the lab a few moments later. Linus babbled a slightly-coherent explanation, and Maggie took charge. Her first point of call was getting Fisher to escort Kirsten far away. Kirsten, however, resisted, eying a still-crumpled, very obviously in pain Cameron on the floor.
“Go, go – I got him,” Camille assured.
Kirsten squeezed her shoulder, once, and then allowed herself to be led off. Camille scampered to Cameron’s side, relieved when she didn’t see or smell much blood.
“Now was not the greatest time to try we wrestling,” Camille joked, hands trying to figure out what was wrong.
Cameron blinked at her, eyes glazed and face uncomprehending. “What wrestling?”
“We? The… the famous wrestling crap on TV where they hit each other with chairs?”
That startled an almost-laugh from Cameron, which led to a groan. “WWE. It’s just my leg, I think,” he added in response to Camille’s prodding.
She made her touch to said leg as gentle as possible, but he still cried out. “Okay, shit, sorry.” He tried to wave her off, still panting in pain. She glanced back to his overturned desk, and then measured the distance from it to where they currently were sitting under the lever. “And yet, you still came all the way over here.”
“Crawled, mostly,” he explained through gritted teeth. “Had to get to the…”
“That was a really nifty thing to put in this lab,” she said, glancing again at the sunlight still streaming in. “Was that your idea?”
“Was inspired by a recent Mummy rewatch.” Camille gave him a blank look. “The Mummy? Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz? ‘No harm ever came from reading a book’?” He shook his head. “Add that to the list of things I have to… introduce… you… to.” He panted the last few words, face now looking a little green.
“Right. Ayo time. Don’t look at me like that; I’m strong af. I can carry your skinny butt up there. I’ll even do it bridal style if it wouldn’t hurt you more.”
He tried to smile for her, but it just came out a grimace. And the facial expressions only got worse from then on – even though Camille tried to be careful as she lifted him to his feet, the movement still jarred him. And as much as most of his weight was on her, hopping about was not a viable option. Luckily, Linus zoomed to their side and took Cameron’s other arm around his shoulders. They had to adjust their positions a few times before they got the right balance that meant Linus wasn’t banging into Cameron’s injured leg as they walked, but eventually they were able to make their slow ascent to Ayo’s capable hands.
Camille was looked over by another medical assistant and then sent to sit with Kirsten, who was actually one of the least badly hurt or drained by the whole fiasco. They were sent back to their dorm early, with Fisher posted outside the door just in case, and so Camille only got one more glance at Cameron that day. Ayo had fitted him with a leg brace and was busy explaining the correct use of crutches to him as Camille passed.
They both made a beeline for the lab as soon as possible the next day, and found that it mostly looked normal, except for some scorch marks on the floor that made an odd shudder run through Camille’s insides. Cameron’s workspace was also visibly stuck back together, with cobbled parts of other computer and technologies to replace bits of his that had obviously not made it out of the battle. Cameron himself looked a little cobbled together, as though held in place only by tenuous sticky tape. He was shockingly pale, and looked smaller than usual with the crutch and the leg brace.
“Didn’t Ayo give you two of those?” Camille frowned, watching him painfully limp around his table, putting too much weight on the injured leg for her liking.
Cameron waved a vague hand. “I can’t have both my hands occupied,” he said, firmly. “I need to get this up and running again.”
Camille and Kirsten shared a glance. “Cameron,” Kirsten started, doubtfully.
“I’m fine,” he snapped, still not looking at them. “Just… I’m fine. I can still do this.”
“Nobody said you couldn’t,” Kirsten tried, gently. “But we just…”
“Hand me that wrench, please?” Cameron said, voice like steel, and the women shared another glance and a sigh.
“Okay,” Camille said, dubiously. “But I’m going to laugh if you fall on your ass in front of me.”
She didn’t get to show that the statement had been all talk; Cameron didn’t fall. But he did get increasingly paler as the morning wore on, and before long his hands were trembling in pain and his leg was barely supporting him even with the help of the crutch. Kirsten and Camille had both retired to a corner of a lab with their library books, content to just be around the people they now considered as friends as they put their lab back together, helping where they could. But when Cameron had to suddenly grip the table to keep from collapsing, Kirsten shut her book with a snap and marched toward him, Camille hot on her heels.
“Okay, you’re done doing this.” She took him by both of the shoulders and supported him upwards while Camille positioned the chair behind him. “Sit.”
“I don’t need to -!”
“Cameron. Please sit.” Kirsten’s voice and demeanour changed, but for once Camille couldn’t find it in herself to call her friend out for using compulsion. “Please, just take a break, okay? And, look; this chair has wheels. You can use it to wheel around the lab.”
“I…” Cameron said, blinking at her.
“It’s more convenient,” Kirsten promised, lowering him into the chair. “You’ll get a lot more done this way.”
“Yeah, okay,” Cameron agreed.
“Or,” Kirsten said, suddenly eager and kneeling before him. “Or – I could heal that for you. I could make it better right now.”
“Wh-? No! No, no, Kirsten!” He yelped a little, involuntarily, as he twisted away from her in alarm. “Stretch!”
“What?” Kirsten folded her arms, face steely. “That’s what I was meant to do with this element, Cameron. That’s what I’m good at.”
“Animals – no mammals yet, I’ll add. And one or two dhampir and Moroi. No humans. There are no records of human healing anywhere. We have no idea what that would do to you or Camille.”
“Oh, man, that’s flimsy bs,” Camille argued. “If she can heal animals, she can do a human.”
“There’s no scientific proof,” Cameron stressed, glaring at both of them.
“Isn’t that what an experiment is meant to bring to light?” Kirsten argued back.
Cameron shook his head, mouth in a tight line. “I’m not leaping that far into the unknown. I will not risk you! Either of you!”
“It’s not a risk – ”
“Everything we do in here is a risk! Everything! Just because we’ve spent hours running all the variables doesn’t mean we’re not wrong,” Cameron snapped. “That’s why we take it further and further by tiny, calculated, acceptable steps. We do not jump all the way to unknown species healing when most of the lab isn’t even paying attention to stats!”
“Cameron,” Kirsten soothed, placing a hand on his arm and leaning a little closer. “I just want – ”
He clapped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes, tight. “You’re not going to compel me to do this!” Camille and Kirsten both drew back a little, surprised that he knew what compulsion looked like. Now that made a few past interactions very interesting. “You don’t…” He sighed, used his hands to scrub through his hair wildly, and then ran them both down his face. “You’re not the first Moroi down here, Kirsten.”
“What?”
“You’re not our first experimentation. Maggie… she always had her eye on you, but her and Turner wanted to advance on you slowly so you didn’t run off. In the meantime, there was a Spirit wielder who was… already in deep. Her name was Marta. She was… the hallucinations had already started and we… we were reckless and went too fast and…”
“And what?” Kirsten asked, very quietly. Camille kneeled before them, her hand on Cameron’s good knee, her heart pounding uncomfortably. She thought she knew where his story was going, and empathy ached through her as old wounds threatened to reopen.
“She turned herself Strigoi,” Cameron said, flatly. “Before we had the failsafe in the lab” – he motioned to the lever – “and before we knew… Turner killed her. Burned her alive.” He stared at them in turn, eyes haunted but shoulders determined. “We don’t take risks that big,” he stressed, but his voice was cracked instead of authoritative.
They let him get back to fixing his lab, after that, but both of them stayed close. Camille, in particular, abandoned the pretence that she was doing work very early and went to help him so he didn’t have to rise from the chair when his attempts to do so ended in him in pain and humiliation, unable to rise. Kirsten eventually had to go to a class, but Camille bunked hers after a silent conversation with her best friend; gazes that promised she’d look out for the human that had inexplicably become special to them.
She brought him coffee, eventually, and then reclined in a non-wheelie seat beside him, bouncing his crutch up and down while he watched.
“If I had stayed in the human world,” she said, suddenly, “If they hadn’t come to find me, I mean. I probably would have studied something to do with brains in a human university.” Where she would have found the money, she didn’t know. But this was a pipe dream; she could forget how much of nothing she’d always had.
“Yeah? Any field you like in particular?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t old enough to extensively research. I just… what you’re doing here; trying to help by understanding the brain…” She nodded, unable to put it into words. His hand squeezed hers. “What about you, Goodkin? Were brains your first love?”
“Yes and no,” he said, making a hand wobble in the air. “I mean, except for the months I was convinced I was going to build the world’s first time machine, neuro-something has always been my path. My mom’s a neurosurgeon. Brain doctor.”
“But you went for PhD instead of MD,” Camille said.
Cameron sighed, a little. “Medical doctors… Look, I’ve known a lot of them throughout my life. All sorts of specialisations, all sorts of temperaments. And they… They’re great. They do great things. But they’re always looking at problems. They’re always trying to find solutions; the body is just a means to an end, really. I don’t… I didn’t want to see humans like that; to look at what was wrong and try and be the godlike one who fixes it. I just want to… to… wonder at it.”
“You’re such a nerd,” Camille said, fondly, her chest warm.
“No, no, but like…” Cameron leaned forward as much as he could, eyes alight and hands gesturing. “You and Kirsten – you’re not human, but there’s the same wonder in how you work. How your brains work. How your minds by themselves are… beautiful. Camille, I know you didn’t really look at your brain scans but… oh, man, Sweetheart, your mind is magnificent. And then you factor in how it links to Kirsten’s! And on top of all of that is the fact that you are behind all those neurons and that amazingness.” He was grinning at her; still too pale, but suddenly alight from the inside in a way she’d never seen him. “Not just a scientifically beautiful working organ; not just scientifically fascinating but also… there’s a person behind it all. And that person is amazing. You and Kirsten… you’re both so…” He gestured, big, like he had no words.
And Camille stared at that gesture, watching as it made something big and warm start in her chest. Something fragile she didn’t want to be there, because she knew how much it hurt when it was broken and proved untrue. But as much as she tried to stay realistic – as much as she reminded herself that nobody saw her as worth anything more than what she could do for them and be used for – the delight and warmth in Cameron’s eyes demolished her walls. The warmth and aching pleasure of being loved filled her veins and lay there, singing, while she sat silent and gaping and unable to breathe properly in a good way.
“I’m so glad you two were the ones who became part of this,” Cameron said, firmly, and Camille couldn’t give in to the desire to reach across and hug him close.
***
There was something off about the way Cameron was leaning on his crutch when they arrived that day, but he made sure there was no opportunity to ask more than once if he was okay. His leg had been slowly healing – mostly because, Camille was sure, she and Kirsten had been forcing him to take it easy – and he’d even been medically cleared to use only one crutch a few days ago. So the first explanation Camille jumped to was that he’d done too much and injured it more; she and Kirsten shared a few rolled eyes and raised eyebrows, and then they went to work on the pre-testing.
Linus had just finished walking them through the new simulation when Cameron, on view behind them, suddenly staggered and half-fell into his chair. The women exchanged a look, let an oblivious Linus finish, and then marched up to Cameron to find out how they could help.
“We’re going to round up the others and get coffee,” Linus called from the doorway. “Orders?”
Cameron shook his head, and the other two also declined, watching while Linus led the only other occupant of the lab out. Alone with just Cameron and determined to use that to their advantage, they rounded on him.
“You guys should get the caffeine,” Cameron said, not meeting their eyes.
“You should tell us what’s wrong,” Camille countered. “What did you do to your leg?”
“Nothing. It’s not the leg. I’m fine.”
Kirsten gently lifted his hand by the wrist, displaying his shaking hand as evidence. “Cameron.” Her voice was worried but incredibly firm. “What is going-?” Camille saw her suddenly jerk in surprise, saw her eyes widen, and saw her grip on his wrist tighten.
“Kirsten?”
“What – His heart is going crazy,” she gasped, staring at Cameron’s wrist in horror before looking at him in the eyes. “Cameron. Holy crap. Camille, call – ”
“Don’t, don’t. It’s okay.” Camille didn’t bother with his hand; she pressed her palm right above his heart. The organ was beating erratically beneath her palm; too fast with jerks like it was being kicked. One particularly vicious kick had Cameron exhaling shakily, obviously hiding a groan. “It’s fine. I just forgot. I just need a moment.”
“You forgot?” Camille said, incredulous. “What? You forgot to tell your heart how to beat properly? That’s bullshit, Cam. You’re basically dying.”
“I’m not dying,” Cameron sighed. “It’s just heart palpitations. It’s really not as – ” He broke off and flinched, hard, automatically curling in around himself. Camille felt the way his heart had squeezed all wrong, and her own heart started thudding in fear.
“Explain, or we’re hauling you off to Ayo right this very second,” Camille insisted.
“We should be doing that anyway,” Kirsten countered, looking grim.
Cameron sighed, again, and slumped a little in his chair. He looked everywhere but at their faces. “I was born with a bum heart. Took the doctors a few years to figure it out, and when they did it was… bad. Had surgery when I was ten. It fixed most of it, but not all of it. The rest can’t really be fixed by the technology we have right at this point in history, so I instead deal with what I can in ways I can. But the medication is… it has a few crappy side-effects, sometimes. So I…” He paused, struggling for words. “Moroi bites… they don’t only release endorphins.”
He finally glanced at both of them, and then settled on Kirsten. “Your race has evolved to be the very best at extracting blood from a willing donor. That means making it pleasurable for the donor, for starters, but it also means making sure you get the best and easiest… meal.” He pulled a slight face. “So you also release agents and chemicals into blood that regulates your blood donor’s systems; fixes small problems to make the process better. If a Moroi bites a human with cholesterol, for instance, the venom starts to break that blockage down. Because cholesterol interferes with the blood sucking process. Some of those chemicals also regulate heartbeat; do, in a much better way, what heart pills do. The condition, of course, is that when you’re being fed from you can’t have any medication in your system, because it tastes hella nasty, apparently, and we still aren’t sure what human meds do to Moroi.
“Long story short – I wasn’t selected as randomly to be a feeder as people are led to believe. I was the experiment before I was the experimenter. And I’ve gotten into the habit of not taking pills on the days I’m being fed from. But I can’t be in the programme right now because of the stupid leg and this morning was manic and I just… forgot that it wasn’t a feeding day. Forgot to take the pills. And my body’s a little freaked out. That’s all. I’m fine.”
Camille and Kirsten stared at him. Camille’s stomach had dropped somewhere to her knees. “’My heart is going wonky because I didn’t take the medication I need to to keep it okay’ and then in the same breath ‘I’m fine’?” she said, incredulous.
“They’re mild palpitations,” Cameron countered, his expression long-suffering. “It’s…”
His heart kicked again, and he winced, and Camille automatically began rubbing at his chest. Her fingers slid over something bumpy underneath his skin – something metal, from the feel of it – and abruptly she remembered the day months ago when she’d been bewildered by the mystery of the missing buttons on his shirt.
“Does Ayo have meds?”
He shook his head. “She wouldn’t have those.”
“So, what, we’re just supposed to sit around and watch you -?” Kirsten was upset, and Camille couldn’t blame her for being so.
Cameron forced a smile. “It should be over soon.”
“Should,” Camille parroted, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Kirsten’s expression hardened, and she suddenly lifted the wrist she was still holding to her mouth.
“Whoah -! Kirsten!” Cameron tried to jerk his hand away.
“I’m not going to heal you,” she countered.
“You – I’m going to taste like crap.”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself – like you usually taste delicious,” Camille snorted.
It worked; he was surprised enough he glanced at her, and in his distraction, Kirsten bit down. Cameron’s heart sped up even more under Camille’s hand, and for a long moment she was terrified they’d made it worse. But then the quiet groan he released was familiar, and with one more jerky beat his heart slipped back into rhythm, calmly, as though there had never been anything wrong. Cameron sagged in the seat, eyes closed as he got his breathing under control, and Camille looked to Kirsten. The blonde’s face was screwed up in disgust, and Camille indicated the door that led to the bathrooms. Kirsten nodded, trying not to gag, and made a beeline.
Camille turned back to watch Cameron watching her go, his face ashamed and miserable. She should get an honorary PhD in distraction, she really should, she thought with a sigh.
“So, hey… I’m feeling bumpy things…?”
He looked at her, thrown, and blinked a few times. “The sternum doesn’t ever heal properly,” he finally said. “So they have to… staple you back together.” She ran another hand over the bumps after wordlessly asking for permission. “Those are the staples.”
“How bad was it?” she whispered, not quite able to meet his eyes. His silence was telling. She laughed shakily, suddenly feeling light-headed in her relief that he was there and breathing and okay. “So… I’m thinking I should start an I Died Once club. You’re my first official member besides myself.”
Cameron grinned slightly at her, and touched his forehead to hers. “How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist,” he said, quietly.
Kirsten was still gone, and Camille was still shaken, and Cameron was a grounding anchor she’d always insisted she didn’t need but apparently really did. So she unlocked the doors sleep sometimes wrenched open, and looked at him and asked, “Was there anything for you? I mean… did you see…? For me, there was only blackness.”
He cupped her cheek, gently. “You have four minutes after your heart stops to be resuscitated,” he said, quietly. “I think you didn’t see anything because you weren’t gone, yet. Kirsten was already working on bringing you back.” He smiled, gently. “But that’s not the sort of thing you want to waste your whole life worrying about. It defeats the purpose of living.”
“Ha. What is this purpose you speak of?” She was being flippant and purposefully argumentative, but he looked at her seriously and answered, anyway.
“I, for one, am not going anywhere until you and Kirsten are safe.”
***
The world was spinning out of control around them. Camille and Kirsten were gripping hands, tightly, but even that didn’t anchor either of them. Not when Maggie and Turner were a second from ripping into each other physically. Not when Cameron was standing in front of them like a guard with huge eyes.
“It’s just a theory,” Cameron insisted, again, as though Turner would listen this time.
“We cannot just get another dhampir and make them bond-mates with Kirsten,” Maggie snapped. “She’s not the only Moroi we need to protect! This afternoon’s attack proved that! We lost good people, Turner. This is supposed to be a place to keep them safe!”
“We need Spirit to turn Striogi back to Moroi,” Turner argued, smoothly. “If we get their best and make them our best, again…”
“That’s just a theory,” Cameron said, again.
“And I’m ordering us to test it, Goodkin,” Turner said, turning a dangerous look on Cameron. “Either you help me – use your scientific whatever to make it as safe as possible – or I do it myself.”
“Over my dead body are you going to force Kirsten Clark to bring another person back to life,” Maggie snarled.
“Careful, Baptiste. I can make that happen,” Turner warned. “Just grab a random human off the street – somebody nobody will miss. Bring them here. She gets another bond-mate; somebody to share her negative effects with so that she can become stronger. Then we work on turning Strigoi; on a real weapon against the bastards.”
“We don’t know what healing a human will do to her,” Cameron insisted, not backing down from Turner’s advance.
“It’s not a request.”
“That person is going to be in her head,” Cameron argued, actually taking a few steps forward, his anger rising. “In both of their heads! That’s not even mentioning the fact that bringing – ”
Turner’s hand closed over Cameron’s throat. Camille and Kirsten both shouted and started forward, but Turner released Cameron casually and he staggered back, barely-healed leg folding a little underneath him.
“Find a human, or I’ll send people to find one. Help me do this, or I’ll make her do it without your expertise. This is not a negotiation.” And then a sudden gleam entered his eyes. He took out a stake and pointed it very solidly in Camille’s direction. “Or perhaps we don’t need a second bond-mate? Perhaps we just need to strengthen the bond.”
Kirsten and Camille both tried to fight. Maggie was able to wrench Camille out of Turner’s hands. Everybody was yelling and panicked and angry, and it was therefore a moment before Linus yelling Cameron’s name got people’s attention.
Cameron sat on Kirsten’s usual recliner chair, his face pinched. There was a syringe in his arm that clattered to the floor as his fist went numb. Horror nearly sent Camille to her knees.
“If it has to be somebody…” He was panting already as Kirsten reached him.
“What did you do?” she cried.
“Will st…stop my heart.”
“No,” Camille groaned, making her way forward on shaky legs.
“This way… if it works I’ll f…find a way to make it b…better for you two. And if…if it doesn’t…”
He shuddered and groaned and slipped sideways. Camille and Kirsten both caught him. “Don’t let me be one of them,” Cameron whispered. “And don’t… don’t make this your fault. If you see my ghost, k…kick…”
They laid him on his back out of automatic habit more than anything else.
“Cameron? Cameron!”
“Cam? Cammy Cam?” Camille felt herself starting to cry. “No… Cam…”
Kirsten caught her hand in a vice-like grip and met her eyes. “This is going to kick you in the ass,” she whispered.
“I don’t care,” Camille snarled, dashing at her tears and then at Kirsten’s. “You save him.”
Kirsten took their joined hands and put them, Camille’s on the bottom and hers on top, on Cameron’s chest. She took a deep breath, and Camille felt a sensation she’d never experienced before kick to life in her gut.
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avaalons · 8 years ago
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Chris Evans Fic: Unexpectant (1/2)
Found this in my phone notes from ages ago. Watch out, it’s not my usual fluff. Warning that it does deal with the topics of infertility and adoption.
*
‘Babe, come on, I know it’s frustrating but we’ll get there eventually,’ Chris was doing his utmost to calm you down.
You’d just walked through the front door of the home you shared. The home you purchased three years ago in preparation for your expanding family, an expansion that had yet to materialise and still wouldn’t, as the meeting you had just come from had proved. You walked with purpose through the house, heading for the stairs and beyond them your bedroom, tension rolling off you with every thundering step. The rational side of you knew that Chris was only trying to help, and that you were hurting him by pushing him away, but you just needed time.
‘Chris, I just want to be alone for half an hour to be angry and helpless, okay? Just… I’ll be fine later.’
'Sweetie…’ Chris started in your direction but you were already up the stairs, the grief threatening to explode out of you, and out of his reach. You slammed the bedroom door closed and threw yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it in frustration across the room, watching as it landed to the floor with a thud. The outburst relieved nothing and the tears spilled over.
Why did this whole damn process have to take so long? Why did you have to jump through so many hoops and bend over backwards to prove beyond all doubt that you would be good - no exceptional - parents, when anyone else could just pop a kid out as they liked, regardless of their suitability? The injustice of it made you want to scream. All you wanted was to be able to give a safe, stable home to a child that was otherwise quite alone in the world. The implication that living in care was somehow more preferable than living with you and Chris was heartbreaking.
But under all of that, of course, was the very real guilt that you wouldn’t be in this position anyway if you had been properly equipped, from a medical point of view, to be pregnant. The one thing you and Chris wanted, the one addition to your lives that would complete you, was the one thing you couldn’t have and it was because of you. The sobs shuddered through your body as you grieved for the children you couldn’t have and no one would trust you with. You couldn’t shake the sickening feeling that this was somehow meant to be; that the reason you couldn’t have children, in any sense, was because you just weren’t cut out to be a mother. Surely this was confirmed by, in the beginning, every failed pregnancy test and now, every shake of the head or sympathetic glance as you sat down in featureless, vomit-coloured offices to be told, yet again, that there wasn't a match, that another couple were better matched to a baby than you.
You rolled over on the bed, burying your face in the duvet and pounding scrunched up fists into the mattress. The thought that you should let Chris go, should relieve him of the frustration of being shackled to you, you who had failed him, and allow him to achieve his dream of a family with someone that could provide it settled over you like a dark, impenetrable fog.
*** You must have cried yourself to sleep because it was pitch black in your room. It was eerily quiet and the chill of night time had crept over your skin. A glance at the digital alarm clock told you it was 2.12 am. Lifting yourself up on to your elbows, you tried to make out the shape of Chris next to you. Stretching out a tentative arm, you felt for his warm presence but his side of the bed was cold. Everything was cold, and empty.
Pulling yourself wearily from the bed, you padded over to the door, eyes heavy and throat thick from crying. In the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water and drank it down in one over the sink, trying to alleviate the scratchy feeling when you swallowed. Despite sleeping for the best part of eight hours, you were exhausted, your body feeling wrung out and limp.
Having not found Chris in any of the downstairs rooms, you continued your search upstairs but his study was in darkness. Confused, you opened the door to the nearest guest bedroom, again finding only darkness. In the second guest room, however, you found him. The bedside lamp was on and he was dressed in sweats and a white tshirt, glasses on, propped up against a few fluffy pillows with his legs stretched out in front of him and his ankles crossed. He’d clearly fallen asleep reading as there was an open book resting pages down across his belly, his fingers still tucked around one cover. His head had slumped over slightly in slumber and you knew that it would hurt in the morning if he didn’t move soon. Just the sight of him here, alone, instead of in the bed you shared, threatened to turn the tears on again but you took a few deep breaths and tried to steady yourself. Backing out of the room quietly, you softly pulled the door closed before tiptoeing to the master bedroom and laying back down in your cold bed. You’d never slept separately, not since you’d first moved in together.
*
Chris didn’t know what to do. Not ever in his whole life had he felt so utterly useless. As he watched your retreating form heading for the stairs, he could think of nothing to say, nothing that would alleviate the desolation.
Half an hour came and went and he had been sitting at the kitchen table staring into space. The glass bifold doors gave an uninterrupted view of the enormous plot of land this house rested on. It stretched on and on and Chris could feel every empty inch of it. Dodger let out a small whine as he rose from his bed and padded over to where Chris was sitting, resting his head against the solid muscle of Chris’ thigh.
'Okay big guy, what are we going to do about this?’ Chris spoke aloud, looking into those huge canine eyes. 'Because we’re all hurting so much that it’s going to tear us apart if we’re not really careful.’
Rising to his feet, Chris inclined his head towards the doors, 'Come on dude, let’s get some fresh air.’
Dodger was happy enough to run around and around, playing fetch or finding sticks or chasing his own tail, and Chris strolled along with his hands in his pockets, pensive and contemplative. He could remember all too clearly the day you’d both said you would start officially 'trying’ for a baby. You had been starting on dinner and Chris had come in to help, or his version of help anyway, and had slid his arms around from behind, hands smoothing over your then flat stomach. He had a sudden vision of the exact same scene but you with a taut bump that fluttered under his touch, and he knew then that it was baby making time. Luckily for all involved, you wholeheartedly agreed. In the beginning, you had talked excitedly about the plans for this garden. A swing set, a tree house, soccer posts. Maybe even one of those mini electric cars you’d always wanted as a kid. But as time wore on and disillusionment set in, you’d both been too afraid to mention anything future related.
Chris stopped his slow pace and took a deep breath. Something had to give, and soon.
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daddywiththegoodhair-blog · 8 years ago
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The Queen
Wow! I’m super shocked at how much momentum this fanfic that I had totally forgotten has caught! Sorry this took so long, but here’s chapter five!
WC: 1986
Warnings: smut, liquor, lowkey violence, swearing
Chapter one! Chapter two! Chapter three! Chapter four!
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A loud knock on your door woke you up that next morning. You moaned quietly and began to sit up as the door opened and Amber stood in the doorway. She stood frozen as she looked at you, totally naked, and Negan, who was just waking up beside you. As you ran your fingers through your hair, she watched your hand, no doubt noticing the ring that rested a tad too big on your finger.
“I-I was just,” Amber started.
“Oh sweet fucking Jesus Christ is that Amber?” Negan groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and nodding, “Of fucking course. Hey, Amber, grab me a drink of whatever is open downstairs in my cabinet, no ice.”
“Actually, I,” Amber tried again.
“Amber, it’s too god damn early for you to annoy me this much,” he continued, he then wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back down into bed with him.
“The wives want to meet y/n,” she stated, “Officially. We feel its best th-”
SMASH she was cut off by Negan hurling a glass from the night before at the wall. He sat up and walked over to her until he was towering over her. She maintained a straight stare, her eyes locked into yours.
“Now I know,” Negan’s breath was shaking, clearly not a morning person, “I promised all of you that no harm would come and all that fucking bullshit. But if you don’t stop with this fucking straight up god damn defiance, Amber, I swear to fucking y/n, it won’t be me, but whoever it is will be sent straight to you with a fucking card with love from Negan. You fucking get that? Get the fuck back in line. Go get us a fucking drink. And fuck off.”
“This is what’s coming,” Amber warned you as she turned to walk away. Negan grabbed her arm and ripped her back with such force that she hit the ground of your room. You bounced out of bed and began to walk towards her.
“What the fuck was that?!” Negan was suddenly calm, and even let out a chuckle.
“Stop,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, you felt his tension lift as he looked up at you, “Come back to bed. Take this out on me, instead.”
He stood and growled lowly, turning and walking towards the bed. You helped Amber up and she glared hard at you. She turned and walked away, slamming the door behind her. You skipped towards the bed and jumped onto Negan. His hands gripped at your hips so hard for a moment that you let out a low yelp. He smiled as he then kicked all of the blankets off of the bed and ran his hands up your body.
You reached down for his massive length, and began to stroke it slowly. His head slowly fell back as you circled your thumb around the head of his cock. You began to work your way down his body until you could take his cock into your mouth. The moment it hit your lips you could taste the salty precum, you ran your tongue around the head as he groaned.
“Enough teasing, sugar, I need it now,” he commanded.
“I wanna be the boss,” you whined.
“Remember what daddy said about talking back,” he warned.
“I thought you liked a bad girl,” you giggled, then suddenly taking his entire length down your throat. He gasped and punched the bed.
His fingers were then tangled in your bed head as he thrust mercilessly. His groans and growls were loud as he cursed out in pleasure. You used one hand to massage his balls as the other dug your nails into his side.
He released your hair and you eagerly crawled up his body and began to slide the head of his cock into your soaked womanhood.
“Woah, woah, woah sugar,” he groaned as he continued to pull you up his body, “It won’t feel good for daddy until I know it’s good for you. I want my queen to have a seat on her throne.”
You giggled before gasping quickly. With little warning his tongue plunged into your drenched pussy, quickly retreating to circle your clit slowly. You let out a cry.
“Fuck,” you quietly mumbled, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.”
“Scream it, baby,” Negan commanded as his pace quickened, “Make the fucking windows shake.”
As soon as he resumed he hit the spot and you cried out loudly, “FUCK, daddy you’re gonna m-make me cum!”
With one swift movement he slid your body back down and slammed his cock into your throbbing pussy. You let out another cry as he moaned loudly between tight teeth.
His strong hands were literally moving you up and down his length in a loud, wet mess. You had no control over your body as you felt the heat in your stomach move down. He leaned up and began to suck on your neck as his rhythm became increasingly sloppy.
“You w-wanna cum daddy?” you asked with shaky breath, he knew you were just as close as he was, “You wanna fill this pussy?”
He bit hard into your neck and you cried out as you came, his orgasm pumping into you as he threw himself back into the bed and arched his back. You slowly rode it out, up and down up and down, until he pulled you off of him and onto his chest. Kissing the top of your head multiple times as you drifted back asleep.
Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the mattress shift, Negan was trying to sneak away. Without turning to see him you mumbled, “If you think you can just fuck me and then peace, I promise I’ll kill you.”
You heard him give a rough, throaty laugh as he crawled behind you and wrapped his arms around you, “I wouldn’t doubt that for a fucking second. I was just going to grab us some coffee, since Amber shit the bed on the liquor.”
“Coffee?” You rolled over so you were face to face, “What if we just stayed with your earlier plan and stuck alcohol? Celebrated a little bit? Last night was quite the victory for you.”
He smiled as he sat up and put a cigarette between his lips, “A victory? Huh.”
“Well, all of your other wives are at least thirty-five,” you smiled, “Your newest addition to the collection is much younger, I’d say that’s a victory.”
“You aren’t wrong,” he chuckled, “I can’t be drinking this early, kitten, I’ve remembered I’ve got some work to do today that was put off for too damn long already. Someone has been serving as a pretty little fucking distraction for the past little while.”
“Hmph,” you rolled away and sat up, the blankets falling off of you to reveal your still bare body as you stood and walked to your window, “I want you, though,” you sighed, “All to myself.”
He chuckled, and you could hear him buckling up his jeans and then walk over to you.
“Why don’t you fucking chill and take today to plan some wedding shit?” he kissed your shoulder.
“Because we’re supposed to do that together,” you pouted, “If you think you can ease me into the harem until I’m nothing special you’ve got another thing coming. I’m with you today.”
Frustration crossed his face, “When did I fucking say anything about you being like anyone else?”
“I can hear what you say before you say it,” you retorted, taking the cigarette from his lips and pulling a drag yourself, “I’ve always been able to.”
He laughed and threw his head back as you took another drag, “Is that how you managed to stay ahead for so long during our game?”
“You know it, baby,” you handed the cigarette back to him.
Negan’s POV
I watched her delicate fingers place the cigarette between my lips, and I shit you not, for a moment I was almost religious. This girl, this psychopathic angel, was so damn close to everything I had ever wanted that it was hard to think she couldn’t have been the work of some fucking higher power.
“When you cursed out Amber, you swore to me,” she giggled, looking up at me. Her y/c eyes were fire, and I was a fucking snowflake in her presence. It was something new, to love what wanted me dead a week ago.
“You’re the closest living proof I have that maybe there is someone up there,” I replied, her face burned red, “Go get dressed, I have a family meeting us from one of the communities for a bit of a picnic. You should come.”
Excitement erupted across her gorgeous skin as she broke free of my grip and ran towards the small collection of clothing she had. She threw bits and piece all around until she found an old pair of what looked like men’s jeans, and a plain tshirt.
“Knife?” she looked at me with doe eyes, giving her what she wanted the moment she wanted it wasn’t even something I needed to think about. I pulled a small knife out of my back pocket and handed it to her.
She smiled and cut the legs off of the jeans, making herself a pair of incredibly short shorts. She put them on with her top and smiled, doing a spin for me.
“Fuck kitten, your legs are something else,” I moaned lowly as she walked over to me, “I don’t want everyone else to see all of this, maybe try something a bit more conservative. Save this for daddy.”
She rolled her eyes and spun around, walking towards the door. She opened it and laughed, bending over and picking up two cups filled to the rim with liquor, “I guess she didn’t want to interrupt.”
She took a sip and I watched her face twist, but the moment I let out a chuckle she looked at me like she had been challenged and downed two good sized gulps. I walked over and took both cups, sipping from mine before placing them on her desk.
“Would you like to just grab something to eat quick then and be on our way? I’m planning to meet them at the halfway point in about half an hour. Daddy can’t be late.”
She nodded, walking over to the desk and taking another two massive sips from the cup. She stumbled and then smiled brightly, taking my hand.
~
The sun was warm as we walked towards the people standing in the field.
“Anything I should know, going in?” y/n asked, she squeezed my hand. It wasn’t nervousness, but she was definitely on guard.
“That you’ve never been more fucking safe than you are right here with me and Lucille,” I kissed the side of her head. She sighed and the smell of alcohol filled the crisp air for a moment, “Well hey there strangers!” I called. There stood Rick, Carl, Michonne, and Judith, “Sorry we’re a tad late, you know how ladies are.” Y/n shot me a look and smacked my abdomen.
Introductions were short and we were right into business.
“We have a green house coming up here, so we won’t be needed that canned shit anymore, but how about some fucking hunting, you guys do that shit? Well, I mean, now you will,” I chuckled.
Rick started talking some bullshit and Michonne was out trying to pretend like I gave a fuck about her ‘idea’. But what I was focused on was little Judith, who had crawled into y/n’s lap and was playing with her hair. I’d be lying if I said that a baby wasn’t on the list of things I needed. The whole meeting was pretty much a waste of everyone’s time, but fuck if it didn’t reaffirm all of the shit I already knew.
Let me know what you think! How do you want the wedding to be? How do you want the meeting with the other wives to go? Do you want to be added to my taglist? Inbox and follow me! I’m hoping to have chapter six up tomorrow!
Tag List:
@manic-mamma @curious-sub7
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mrsbarnesomg · 8 years ago
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Can’t Help Falling in Love (Bucky x Reader)
Request: @captsebs Can you write an imagine where the reader and bucky slow dance to Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis? Love your writing btw! :-)
Words: 2,695 
Warnings: Simple fluff
Tags: @annadier @happelu970 @shamvictoria11
The Christmas season was your ultimate favorite season. The lights, the joy, the memories and everything there is to love about Christmas, it was the best thing that could possibly be.
So it was no shock that you and Bucky’s apartment was decked out to the top for Christmas, it was your first Christmas living with Bucky and you didn’t fail to make it memorable. From the tree to the garland to the lights and knickknacks, the candles and sweets, everything was beautiful and didn’t look overdone.
It was Christmas Eve night, you and Bucky were supposed to leave for the Avengers tower thirty minutes ago, but much to your dismay, you were stuck. You were aware of the winter storm nearing New York City for the past week and a half, but it wasn’t supposed to hit till midnight, it came six hours earlier than what was planned.
The streets were chaos, cars were moving barely five miles per hour considering if they went any faster they would slid all over the road. Supposedly, people in some subways were trapped, it took them longer than ever expected to get up the stairs and up onto the heavily snow coated sidewalks. Ice covered near everything and the snow only made it worse by hiding the slick patches sneakily, black ice had already caused many people to wreck. It was a disaster out there, the news channel was warning everyone to stay indoors and get to their destinations quickly, this was only the beginning of it. Supposedly it was one of the worst winter storms to hit NYC in nearly a decade.
You and Bucky were stuck in your shared apartment all the way in Brooklyn, it wasn’t that far from Manhattan but in this storm it could take you half the night to get there, if you were lucky that is.
“Steve says that him and Sam are stuck on the Manhattan bridge and that Tony’s coming to get them.” Bucky was looking down at his phone as he entered the living room where you were standing by the windows, looking down at the traffic below and up at the heavily flowing snow.
“In a suit? He can’t possibly fly in this weather.” You wrapped your sweater covered arms closely to your stomach as you continued to look out the windows, you could feel the bitter air seep through the glass. A part of you wanted to scoot closer to the middle of your living room where it was warmer than near the windows but you couldn’t pull yourself away from looking out the windows.
“That’s what Steve said, but Tony didn’t care, said something about how he’s flown through much worse and that he can handle a little snow.” Bucky rolled his eyes and clicked off his phone, sliding in in his sweatpants pocket.
You turned to look at him, your hair was slightly messy due to having to let it down from it’s original style when you realized you were not going to make it to the Avengers Tower in time for a traditional Avenger Christmas.
“A little?” You laughed lightly, your arms still wrapped tightly around yourself in order to keep some warmth. You didn’t understand how Bucky could be wearing sweatpants and a tshirt and not be cold, you were wearing black leggings, a sweater and fuzzy socks, and still felt as if you wearing nothing. The apartment was warm but didn’t feel that way to you.
“I know.” Bucky pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows, shortly followed by a lopsided smile. A burst of chills spread across your body lightning fast and you inched away from the window, finally convincing yourself to go to the middle of the living room.
“Cold?” He rose an eyebrow slightly at you as you flopped down on your back on one of the two couches. Your back being cushioned by the toss pillows and soft grey blanket that laid messily on the couch, your feet dangled off one of the arms of the couch and one arm hung off the side and touched the soft area rug, while your other arm laid lazily across your stomach.
“Mm, just a little.” You shrugged, laughing lightly as you watched him give you a knowing look. Silence filled the room, Bucky looked out the window, standing in your previous spot to see how most of the cars left the streets and the groups of people started to thin out as the storm continued on. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind wandering to how you weren’t able to have a traditional Avengers Christmas as planned.
Avenger Christmas’s were the best.
“Why couldn’t the snow just wait an hour. At least thirty minutes, long enough for us to be halfway there.” You pouted, kicking your leg against the couch as you sighed dramatically, causing Bucky to look back at you with a lopsided grin and both eyebrows raised at your childish actions.
“At least we have power.”
The sentence had barely left his mouth when all at once everything clicked off. Your building, the one across the street and soon enough every building as far as the eye could see went dark, it was a wave reaction that all happened in under five seconds. You could see the silhouette of Bucky as he turned to face the couch, although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he struggling to hold back a laugh.
“Way to go Bucky.” A teasing tone laced your voice as you dramatically rolled off the couch and onto the soft white rug, taking the grey blanket that you had wrapped yourself up in, down with you.
“Merry Christmas, doll.”
It had been at least thirty minutes since the power went out and much to yours and Bucky’s satisfaction, the back up generator of the building only covered the heat. You would honestly rather have heat than lights, but even the heat was weaker than normal, you lived in an awfully big apartment building.
You were still lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket with your face pressed against the rug. It didn’t look that comfortable to Bucky but to you, it was the most comfortable you’d been since the waves of cold air kept rushing through your body. Bucky was not affected by the cold, he was wearing a tshirt and was still radiating warmth.
“You know your large collection of pointless candles?” Bucky’s voice got closer as he walked from the master bedroom and into the living room.
“They’re not pointless!” You rolled over on your stomach and rested elbows on the floor while supporting your upper body to lean upwards. “If there was an apocalypse against green slimy monsters taller than the empire state building who were afraid of fire, then boom. Just like that, I saved us all.”  
“Sure thing, doll.” He set down a large clear tote on the other couch, your phone rested on the coffee table with it’s flashlight on, it was the one source of light in the room. “But I’m afraid your candles are going to be used for another reason.”
“And what reason is that? Because I think defeating large green slimy monsters is a pretty damn good fate for them.” You paused, twisting your lips as you thought. “That and they smell delicious and I burn them, like, all the time.”
“We’re going to light up the living room with them.” He picked one up from the box, all of them were from Bath and Body Works, a place you visited a little too much. “Well, a few of them.”
“Well that’s smart.” You pointed your finger at the box. “I volunteer my Christmas collection. I don’t want our apartment to smell like Hawaii and a frosted pumpkin cupcake at the same time.”
“Hey, can you go get the lighter?” He started pulling out a couple candles and reading the labels, making sure they were all a good mix of scents and nothing crazy.
“Mm, sorry, I can’t.” You laid your head back down on the rug and flung your arms down lazily beside you. “I’m paralyzed from the waist down.” “
“Your legs fell asleep didn’t they?” He set aside a vanilla bean noel scented candle and his reaction to your dramatic ways were completely normal. You smiled and scrunched your nose up as you giggled.
“Certainly did.”
The room was lit by a couple candles here and there, the smells that filled your apartment sweet and strong. Christmas music was playing from your phone, the sound was soft and perfect for background music as you and Bucky sat in silence. You were laying on the couch again, this time on your stomach with your chin resting on the arm rest, your eyes glued out the window. Frost covered a majority of the window at this point, but the snow falling just as heavy as before was still able to be seen. Bucky sat on the other couch, his eyes glued to the same view as you.
The song switched again as White Christmas came to an end, much to your surprise, a Christmas song didn’t follow. Instead, a song you hadn’t heard in quite a while started to play. You recognized the song as soon as it started and your brows furrowed as you shifted around to reach for your phone.
“This isn’t Christmas music.” Your fingertips were just barely touching your phone when suddenly Bucky jumped up from his seat, startling you at the quick movement. He was standing in front of you barely seconds after he bolted up. You looked up at him with a tilted head and raised eyebrows.
He held out a hand for you to take but you only stared at it, more confused than ever. After he saw you make no move to take his hand, he grabbed your hand himself.
“Dance with me, doll.” He tugged at your hand and you moved to sit in a sitting position on the couch, one leg curled underneath you as you laughed.
“Buck…” You trailed off, a slight blush covering your barely illuminated features. “I can’t dance.”
“It’s not hard. Promise.” He tugged at your hand once more and you sighed, opening your mouth to come up with some silly reason to not dance, but when you looked up at his face, you couldn’t deny him. He knew what he was doing, puppy dog eyes, soft smile and slightly quirked eyebrows. It was as much as your weakness as your innocent face was to him.
“Okay, okay.” You stood up hesitantly and he quickly pulled you close to him. You stumbled into his chest and laughed lightly, a blush still covering your cheeks.
‘Wise men say, only fools rush in’
He took your arms gently and placed them over his shoulders, you laced your fingers together from behind his neck, you had to slightly lean upwards to reach him at his height. He placed his hands on your hips  and you squirmed around at the touch, you were always a little insecure about your hips, but he only gripped on tighter and smiled at you reassuringly.
‘But I can’t help falling in love with you.’
He moved slowly and you followed him hesitantly, you had never really slow danced before and had absolutely no clue what to do. You bit your lip harshly when you accidentally stepped on his foot, he only chuckled when he felt your whole body tense.
“Doll, stop freaking out, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, his flashing white teeth could be seen clear as day even in the dimly lit room. Your whole body relaxed slowly at the sound of him calling you doll, he knew you loved it when he called you that simple nickname.
‘Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you’
The only sound in the room was the soft voice of Elvis singing one of your favorite songs, it happened to be playing when you first met Bucky. Suppose you could say you two were destined from the start. You looked up at Bucky and noticed how he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking out the window behind your head for a moment. It gave you a chance to admire him for the first time all night, even in the dim lighting of the room.
‘Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be’
His jaw was sharp and strong, his lips were soft and luscious looking. His blue eyes that held so much life and happiness, you remember when you first met him how much of the sad and heartbreaking look his eyes held. Everything was so different now, it was better and made your heart swell to think how lucky you were to be here to witness it. You were with him every step of the way, you were what showed him the light at the end of the tunnel.
‘Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you’
“Bucky?” Your voice was in a soft whisper but it was enough to catch his attention almost immediately. He hummed in response, raising an eyebrow and watching your every facial expression with close detail.
You opened your mouth to say something but nothing but air trapped in your throat came out. You closed your mouth and sighed, it sounded as if you were hesitant and by the way you moved your eyes away from and his and decided to stare at his chest instead, proved his suspicions of how nervous you were.
After a couple seconds passed, you finally looked back up at him.
‘Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be’
“I, uh, I love you.” You tilted your head to the side as you watched his facial expressions. It was the first time after almost a year of dating that you had said those three words that you knew from the beginning was true. You never thought you would be the first to say it, there were times when you were almost certain Bucky was about to say it, when he would say something else instead.
‘Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you’
The first thing that crossed his face was confusion, almost as if he misheard you, but by the looks of your face, he knew he hadn’t. His eyes even slightly narrowed on yours, he wasn’t glaring, he was studying your expression. It only took seconds before a grin spread across his features, his eyes growing bigger and happier as he looked down at you.
“I love you too, Y/n.” His voice was filled with happiness and joy, he sounded so overwhelmed with pure excitement that you loved him and he loved you. His fingers gripped your hips a little harder as he grinned and spun you around in a circle, you laughed happily as you steadied yourself. “I love you, Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.”
‘For I can’t help falling in love with you’
“And I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You giggled as he pressed his lips to yours, they were as soft as soft could get and you wished you could kiss them all day long. You could taste the minty freshness of his breath and a feeling of heat spread across your stomach. It felt like butterfly wings were kissing you and you felt as if you could do anything.
You could run a marathon with no training whatsoever, all you needed was a kiss from Bucky and the feeling in your stomach.
‘For I can’t help falling in love with you.’
And just like that, everything was better.
The snow storm didn’t matter, the coldness didn’t matter, the odd mix of candles didn’t matter, nothing mattered.
All that mattered was that you loved Bucky and Bucky loved you.
That’s what made everything okay.
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danandphilsecretsanta · 8 years ago
Text
Halfway to Monet
To: @spacehoephil
A/N: I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas.
Summary: Phil feels sentimental and Dan reminisces.
The fireplace, bedecked in tinsel and Christmas lights, crackles and chases the chill from the air. Phil is sat on the sofa reading a book with a thick blanket wrapped around him. He can hear the tinkling of piano keys coming from Dan’s room.
It’s good to be home after their exhausting year. Before TATINOF, he’d wondered if spending so much time in close quarters with Dan would make them sick of each other, but it has only made them closer.
Phil looks around the room feeling grateful and fond for the home and the life they’ve built together. He smiles at how he has a memory associated with every item on the bookcase―the entire apartment, actually―and he knows who picked out what, on the offchance that they didn’t buy it together. Not that it really matters, since almost everything has become theirs, including the plants. Love has been intertwined throughout everything.
Taking the blanket with him, Phil pushes himself off the sofa and goes to stand at the window, watching the snow fall against the light of the street lamps below. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier in every aspect of his life.
The peaceful solitude and cold air emanating from the glass makes him miss Dan. He tightens the blanket around his shoulders and shuffles his socked feet down the hall to where Dan is playing the piano.
“Scoot over.”
With Phil sitting beside him like a warm, fluffy burrito, Dan continues playing Yuri on Ice. It didn’t take him as long to learn as he expected.
Phil waits until the song is finished before the beseeching begins.“That was beautiful and makes me want to watch skating but I want to hear some Christmas songs. Please?” He says the last word with a soft sweetness as he rests his head on Dan’s shoulder.
Dan starts with an impassioned O Holy Night and follows it with a more subdued Carol of the Bells which he lets build slowly. Phil hums contentedly, wanting to fully lean into Dan but knowing that would restrict his arm movement.
Playing the songs makes Dan think of their first Christmas living together. Specifically, the night they put the famed ‘rave tree’ together for the first time. It was the night he realized how much he was hopelessly in love with Phil.
—-
They had went through the shops looking for the perfect tree and everything for it. Many compromises were made.
“I want a tree taller than us.”
“We can’t get a 12ft tree, Phil. Our ceiling isn’t even that high. It would have our posture.”
“See? It’d be perfect.”
Living with another was more trying than Dan expected. It took time to adjust to the less appealing Phil quirks. He doesn’t think it took as much time for Phil to adjust to his negative quirks, few as they are, but he might be be biased.
—-
A few weeks after having decided on the perfect plastic tree, music played as they began to construct it. They told each other bad Christmas jokes as the tree took shape and they wound lights around it.
Since they’d made A Day of it, they had baked and decorated brownies for the occasion with santas, snowflakes, reindeer and everything one would expect on Christmas cookies, plus a few more scandalous designs.
Phil thought they were works of art. Dan nodded silently in agreement, thinking they must have been done in impressionist style since the further away you were, the better they looked.
When Dan had come back to the lounge after eating a brownie that bordered on abstract, Phil had a paper crown on from the cracker they pulled earlier, and he was singing and dancing to All I Want For Christmas Is You. He looked so comfortable and full of joy, Dan couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
It was then he realized just how in love and completely besotted with Phil he was. Dan loved him so much it hurt, and stole his breath.
His arms fell limply to his sides as he stared, mind reeling at the revelation. There was nowhere else he’d rather be, no one else he’d rather be sharing a Christmas with. Phil carelessly dancing in his pj bottoms and tshirt, singing off-key with Mariah as he helped to decorate Their tree was gorgeous and Dan’s chest ached with affection.
Before he could wonder how Phil felt about him, his legs had carried him to be stood a few feet behind the man.
“Dan, what ornaments do―” the question fell unfinished as Phil turned to look at Dan, who appeared unusually still. Phil’s grin wilted as his happy expression morphed into concern.
Dan took a few steps closer. Words failed him, he was at a loss for what to do. He wanted to remove the worry from Phil’s face but emotions warred inside of him. Love and hope were trying to overtake fear.
As he stood before Phil, with words stuck in his throat, he thought of all the little things about the man that meant so much to him.
The compassion and tenderness, the wicked sense of humor and deviousness. The way he became soft as he would laugh and wriggle when being tickled. He was so unlike anyone Dan had ever known and he was so thankful that Phil has allowed him to see who he really is, let him into his world and, in a small way, made him a part of it.
Dan wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he would disappear. He could feel his fingers flexing as the thought crossed his mind. Perhaps he was dreaming and touching Phil would make him dissipate like smoke, and he would be alone again.
Phil watched as the emotions played across Dan’s face. Concern became understanding.
With Mariah singing about how she doesn’t care about the presents beneath the tree, and their own tree looking decidedly naked, Phil smiled and took the red tinsel he’d been holding and placed it around the back of Dan’s neck like a boa, and gently pulled him close.
It was a short, soft pressing of lips. Phil broke away quickly and pulled back just enough so that he could see Dan clearly.
With Dan looking happily bewildered, he leant forward and grinned into the next kiss.He had to refrain from giggling because he could feel Dan smiling back.
“Hello.” Dan blushed from his neck to his ears, once they’d separated again.
“Hi.”
Dan initiated the next kiss and they both melted at the warmth of it. Dan tentatively wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist in a hug. Phil eagerly returned it and curled his arms around Dan’s shoulders.
Needing a moment after realizing he could taste the brownie in Phil’s mouth, he sighed happily as he hid his face against Phil’s neck.
“I love that you’re as tall as me. It makes for better hugs.”
“It being you is what makes our hugs best.”
“Are we really already at the soppy stage?”
“Shush, Dan.”
They held onto each other for a while longer before giving in to dancing and singing badly together. It was the best Christmas either of them had ever had.
-
That is why, when Phil wants to play the song for hours on end once during the Christmas season, Dan pretends to grumble and when Phil played it on the radio show, he couldn’t help but smile.
Dan nuzzles his face into Phil’s hair for a few moments before he starts playing All I Want For Christmas Is You.
“I like this song.”
“Me too.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, talking burrito.”
“I would make mildly annoyed burrito sounds but that would only prove your point and I’m too contented by the Shrektacular piano playing skills.”
“You have proven my point by talking, and for that pun, you should change your name to Phillup B Messter.”
Phil stands up and shuffles behind Dan to envelop him in his blanket while making monster noises, pulling him off the piano stool and onto the floor where Dan lands on top of him.
“What did I do to deserve this food on human violence?”
“I have enrobed you in my floury tortilla.”
“Your dairy-free burrito of sadness. You’re on the naughty list for being mean to me.”
“I am reliably informed that I’m good friends with Danta Claus so I’m not worried. Since you love me, we suffer together.”
“Sorry, I don’t love you more than sour cream and cheese.”
“You are an ungrateful filling and condiment.”
Dan snerks at the use of grate. “Yeah, but your wrap is feeling toasty so I think I might be able to deal with being part of a Philrrito.”
“Behold the sacrifices one makes for love. Where’s the video camera when I need it to capture your noble declaration?”
Turning around in Phil’s arms, Dan murmurs before pressing their lips together, “I’ve given up cheese for you. That is as close to true love as you’ll get from me.”
“I guess I’ll accept that,” Phil replied as they broke apart. “It’s not slaying dragons but a man can’t have everything.”
“You know you’d want to keep a dragon, not have me slay it. Speaking of love, I was thinking about the night we conceived the rave tree.”
Phil’s face scrunches up in laughter. “I recall that night vividly and no conceiving happened unless trees are birthed by reaching second base and making out.”
“When were trees ever conceived at eighth base? You know that mostly didn’t happen until after we finished decorating.”
“I know the completion was delayed a few hours.” Phil smiles like he’s a cat that’s gotten the cream.
Dan hums as he returns a grin in kind. Phil manages to roll them over so he can move his arms and they can remain warm.
Dan reaches to slide his hands into Phil’s back pockets and belatedly remembers he is wearing pj bottoms so he’s caressing Phil’s bum for no practical reason. Not that the pockets weren’t a flimsy excuse.
“My world stopped when I realized you wiggling your hips and caterwauling was one of the most wonderful things I’d ever beheld and I wanted to always be able to witness it.”
“Who’s the soppy one now? That still might be the best kiss we’ve ever shared.”
“Might be? Best we’ve ever shared? This won’t be rectified until I’ve given you the best kiss you’ve ever had.”
“This is one of the few times I can fully enjoy your competitive nature but we’re missing the mistletoe.”
“Don’t need it.”
Phil ekes out a “A Merry Christmas to us all; God bless us, every one.” before Dan renders him speechless again.
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