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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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Antinomy

Part 2; things are brewing. VIBE

“Do you know the spiritual meaning of 11? What about in numerology? You’ll find it quite intriguing, funny even… until it starts making sense.” You’ve witnessed and harnessed the way and days he had grown to be; this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers.

Pairing -> Childe x Harbinger!Fem!Reader

Word Count -> 5217

Themes -> Friends to admirers, mentor, fluffy, suddenly ANGST

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Part 1

Warning -> Blood and injury

Maybe it was stubbornness, his unhinged desire for the thrill of a fight, or you mistaken misguidance. Many possibilities, really, but Childe knows it had nothing to do with all of those. You're not to blame for his mistakes, but he sure as hell would have to pay for the mess he just created.

vi. fontaine

The show felt like a dance made to lure and trance such audience, and despite his resolve and difference in agendas, the strong Harbinger had been victim to the beauty of the show. Of swaying thin clothes and alluring flicks of the hips.

“We’re not co-workers, we don’t know each other, remember that.”

Tambourines and lyres synced through the performance as men and women alike cheered and stumbled to the songs. The Snezhnayan dancers set the bar high in terms of beauty as the Fatui disguised as performers indulged the crowd in symphony and dance, as if the whole nation was under a mania, no one saw and no one heard. They just followed lead as the agents lulled their own targets into a sense of security and joy.

In the middle of the crowd you lead the choreography as the main dancer, distinguished by the colors of your garb and its grandiosity, yet still respectably covered compared to the other performers. Your main objective was to catch the havoc of a man that left the headquarters of your organization in flames at his wake; and yet, it was instead Childe that was allured to your spell.

An intoxicated man had been eyeing your behind with drooling eyes for a while now, and with the assistance of liquid courage, he reached his hand out to get a feel- when it landed on gray pants of firmness. “Oh my, I didn’t know you swing that way, citizen,” you whipped around to see Childe directly behind you, who was also has his head angled to look behind him where a Fontaine man stumbled back in disgust. His hand clutched to his chest as if it were burned. “Sad news tho, I’m off the table, try someone else maybe.”

Before you can register the edge in his voice, he was already guiding you by the hand back to your dancing stride. You were momentarily stunned but devolved into a glare at his current recklessness, “Come now, Lady Viscaria.” He addressed you by your dancer name. “The whole world is high in the clouds around us, this would be a moment no one will remember.” You didn’t even need to look to know he was right, and you succumbed with a sigh.

Childe didn’t realize just how small your hands are compare to his, the softness of it in contrast to the rough texture of his gloves. If he knew, if only he knew, he would have removed them before you had entertained the idea. Your steps were lithe and your turns were grace manifested, eyes closed yet a gentle smile equipped on your face, the ones you had been wearing ever since you started the performance. “So this is how you fight.” He mumbled with his own grin when he had spun you back against his form, your feet glides against the pavement yet barely touching it as you seemingly floated to place. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought you were an Anemo Vision wielder.

Soon enough the square dissipated to give way to the ferocious dance you two had eased into. Steps became more pointed, arms tensed and strong, and the turns was almost reminiscent of martial arts as you seemingly evade each other’s swings. Suddenly a kick aimed to hit his chest forced him to jump back, and at the other side you dropped your foot, a taunting smirk and a condescending gaze set upon him. His blue eyes widened.

And the elegance of the tango from earlier turned into a vicious round of capoeira, powerful kicks and jumps yet not made to touch each other. Your figure leaped into a crescent kick when he had made a sweep to hit your ankles, him immediately rolling to the side to evade the blow. Dropping to the ground with your ankles and knees bent, a leg outstretched you gasped, and went into a running start towards him, “Lift!” A single command yet he knew what he needed to do.

Gripping your hips upon your leap his strong arms easily eased you high up, your legs were kicked high up and one bent farther back and you steadied yourself by gripping on to his shoulders. The atmosphere turned tense and the only sound you can hear were the ragged breaths you heave up close. And the crowd around then explodes into a round of applause.

Childe seemed to have snapped out of a trance from the foreign noise, breaking the eye contact you both held as he slowly placed you down. There was a sudden bashfulness to him then. But was once again pulled away from his reverie when you quite literally pulled him out of the square into a dark alley, eyes glinting dangerously as a toothy smirk donned your lips, “I saw him, the redhead.”

...

The chains felt sentient. As it flies forward to try and capture him, Childe conjured a wave to sweep it away only for it to change angles to strike at him again. It pierced through the pavement he was once on before it moved to retract back to the owner. At the other side, Childe had a glimpse of your more successful fight with the fugitive as your polearm easily deflected the advances of the chains, even if it gets caught sometimes. Your Cryo Vision would always make quick work of freezing and breaking the chains.

None of you expected a non-elemental fight, and this seemed more complicated of a battle than you would have thought. The man carried with him the aura you feel when you use your delusion, you grimly thought as you ducked out of another barrage, sensing the frustration and desperation of the enemy. You were barely breaking a sweat, you’d see his red eyes take notice, and you weren’t even using both of your hands to fight. With another smirk, your Vision then glowed by your side as you raised your arm. The hooded man braced for impact, but instead he felt a force hit his lower half- water current from Childe, and suddenly it solidified to ice upon your avalanche. His hand where the strange device were also covered to render him useless.

An arrow and a spear’s tip was now aimed to his heart. “Well, well, that was a nice fight, Ragnvindr,” you leaned down close enough to see the finer details of his hawk mask, you saw his eyes squint into a glare. He knows he lost. By your side Childe relaxed his arms and dematerialized his bow, the next part should be yours to work on. “Thank you for your dedication, but this atrocity ends now.” You straightened your back and took a step back, angling your spear to his throat. As his eyes close to succumb to death, your head would angle itself slightly to see Childe’s reaction

when a golden flicker appeared past his shoulder.

“CHILDE!” The devil himself felt the air leave his lungs at the force that punched at his chest, enough to immobilize him as he was punted to the ground. Before he could even recover, the pavement around shifted and crumbled to create a wall between him and the frozen Diluc. He heard the ice breaking and two pairs of feet scrambling away. “Fuck, he had an accomplice,” he breathed as he took his stand, about to give chase to the escapees. That is until he registered his mentor-

barely standing with a stalagmite pierced through her stomach.

“Chi...lde.” You gripped the pointed tip of the structure to keep yourself up as your legs started to lose feeling. He was there hovering over you, unsure where to touch or how to assist. Fuck. Fuck. This was his fault. “Go... chase, I’ll be- I’ll be fine...”

And then you blacked out.

vii. seven correspondence

There were multiple parchment of the same color littering his office desk filled with different lengths of paragraphs. Childe's quarters in the palace was cozy and wide, and nothing could be heard but the sound of his fountain pen scratching the surface of the paper with ease.

"Letters are important in Snezhnaya," you perked up from your unfocused gaze from his window, where you silently watched the brewing blizzard manifesting outside. Your eyes made contact with his genuinely gentle ones that still lingered at the task at hand, "why not write one?"

"Letters are commonplace in Snezhnaya," you corrected as you made your way to his side to snoop in his letters. He did not seem to mind. After all you'd pretty much already the whole of his family that one awkward encounter. He was working on the seventh letter and your eyes lingered around the six finished ones: there was one for each younger siblings, one meant for the two older brothers, another for the older sister, and one for his parents. "It's not necessary for me to write, I don't have an address in mind to begin with."

Is that so, he mumbled under his breath before the conversation died down once again to little scratches. A lot of his words had tales to tell about his stay in Fontaine, you realized the most details were poured into the contents for his parents. At the mention of this nation, your hand ghosts over your stomach.

The bandages from long ago had already been dispatched. And yet the stiffness of it has still affected your composure as well as the weird pull of the skin from the stitches. Only a nasty scar was left in its wake to remind you of the failed encounter and it forced you to make drastic wardrobe changes to your performing attire.

You saw Childe's shoulders slightly tense at your action.

"Childe," his grip on the pen tightened yet he kept his head down. You didn't mind. His mind was going overdrive again, probably. "Who are you writing that last letter for?"

He felt like he'd dodged an arrow over the way he had relaxed, slumped down even when he met eyes with better resolution within it. "It's for a special someone," his signature smile was back, "I've met her long ago and I've always made sure to send her a letter yearly as thanks."

Thanks? "Thanks?" The letter (it was short, you realized) was already folded before you could peek at the words within. You knew Childe was good-looking, but for him to have a girlfriend waiting for years as he drowns in his work, quite irrational and yet painful. Painful... to you?

"I've met a girl back when I was 14," he was suddenly up and bustling as he bundled up his letters. Urgent you followed to listen to his tale as best as you can with his long legs. "I never knew her name or her face, but she saved me from the wolves back in Morepesok. I never properly gave her my thanks, so yearly I would leave letters at the woods where she'd gone, and hope that she'll be able to read them and know that I lived because of her." You already halted your advances to chase after him as you stood before the doors of the Palace. He didn't seem to mind, he kept going until he was gone.

...Morepesok was a seaside fishing village with a vast white forest by the edges in which ferocious wolves and bears usually haunt. After your promotion to the Palace, you had never once set foot in the village, much less the woodland. Where you are right now.

You held a steady hand against your stomach as you retraced the familiar route you'd gone, something so far away you would have expected to forget it by now. That was six years ago, you counted as you reached the clearing in horror of its emptiness, there should be six letters here by now.

A snapping twig had you whirling to look behind you. "So, it really was you." His gentle blue orbs had met your widened ones, breathless you both were, but for different reasons.

"So you lied about the letters," the mocking pout on your lips had made him laugh. A sprinkle of red dusts his cheeks, and he was quick to hide it with the familiar letter on his hand.

"I didn't lie about this one," your upturned palms received the crispy envelope, carefully opening the seal and unfolding its contents, "I wanted to make sure I was right."

'Your sacrifice had given me a new chance, a new life, a new beginning. I wish I was there to thank you for protecting me, but this time, I will get stronger and make sure-'

"I'll be the one protecting you from now on." He finished, and the red dust over your own cheeks felt like torches made to melt the mightiest icicles.

viii. fleeting glances

Signora had always been the type of person to only make appearances when necessary, but most of her dirty work were done by her subordinates, her own little army. She's the coordinator and observer at the back as things were weaved into place for her. Like a flower on the wall, the Fair Lady knows and notices details.

The first one was by the entrance, the second was by the veranda. The third, fourth and fifth were by the hallways. The sixth was by the throne room. The seventh was outside. And the eight was that in front of her—

Childe disliked being in the same area or even breathing space as her, this much Signora knew. He was a kid still under training over the ways of the Fatui, but there was nothing more he hated than the way the Fair Lady handles her work, her soldiers. But it came with the aesthetic, and he had no other means to pry until he had finally grasped the way the cogs turn in this organization known as the Fatui.

The youngest Harbinger never looked her directly in the eye or even dare spare her the glance when it was not needed. And in all honesty, it was quite bothersome the first few times. After all, Tartaglia carried with him a certain charm.

His eyes would either narrow or be guarded for any other Harbinger that comes his way, respectful or dismissive, the options fleet through those whenever. But there was one humane and warm look he gives at special occasions, for a special someone, and Signora finally witnessed it in full view and detail—

The crease between his eyebrows would immediately ease as his eyes break free from its squinted, slanted form. The dark depths at the middle would dilate as his expression quirks up, teeth usually visible through parted lips as he dons an easy smile. And Signora would be taken aback by the immediate change as she follows the trail of his stare.

The gold was the first to strike with the way the trinkets hang by the waist, and the warm and mellow colors so contrary to the Fatui colors draws away the unease of onlookers. It was to make sure that no association with the Fatui would be made, that was your calculated explanation was upon your choice of 'uniform.' You've just came from a short trip to Natlan to gather all data to be reported to the Tsaritsa, and during that time the 11th had been under no one's particular care.

You passed by their forms (pass is a strong word, they were off to the far side, honestly) with your report in hand, humming to yourself as you continued your way to the throne room. That demeanor only means that you had good news to tell, good news for everyone.

The glance was gone fast as the moment ended, and his hard look came albeit much lighter this time. But the way Signora smirked signified she'd noticed, and his look only grew stiffer.

"Come now, pretty boy, show that look often."

The Fair Lady's laugh echoed inside the Palace walls as Tartaglia stomps off to where you had gone, to wait after the dusk convention respectfully.

ix. years of employment

Of the many milestones that could have been celebrated, it was done in an odd number at the most peculiar time. Yes, it is no surprise for everyone to know that you had been working for the Fatui for nine whole years now. And honestly, you shouldn't have been surprised that your younger colleague with the weird ways of his Abyss-induced brains, decided that it was time your anniversary be celebrated instead of waiting another year for the double digits mark.

"Please tell me we're not going to your house again," you softly pleaded as Childe continued to guide you through the paths in the main city of Snezhnaya. "As much as I appreciate their caring atmosphere, I'm not too keen on the idea of pretending to be the head honcho of the toy-selling company of Snezhnaya."

To this, Childe guffawed to a boisterous laugh, pulling his hand away from your back to clutch at his convulsing stomach. You pursed your lips in distaste of his reaction, but then it would loosen up to a smile as you watched him still try to catch his breathe.

After that, the trip had continued with only small chatter in between as you descended further to the edges of the city. You haven't been to this area, simply because of the fact that there were no patrols needed around the cityless wasteland where you are headed, and the glint of surprise had fixed a knot at Childe's back. Relief painted his face.

And you found yourself in front of a frozen lake, with hanging lights decorating the leafless trees by it, and a small table filled to the brim with food. "Lady toyseller!" You shot a glare at your student who averted his gaze away easily to focus on his other siblings. This heretic lied—

"Big brother said it's a special occasion! To commemorate your anniversaries for being in the toyselling business!" Your glare died down to a look of confusion, and the family gathered back into a homely atmosphere. So it seems that Childe coincidentally joined the Fatui the same day as you, two years apart. And he said nothing about it.

"We've been celebrating since the last three years, if we had known, you could have been with us!" And with that you were pulled in by Tonia to the table where her mother was, congratulating you for your hardwork and patience as she offers you to taste some of the food they had brought for the picnic.

"I know you've been helping my son ever since he became a Harbinger," you looked up to Childe's mother in wonder as your mouth was currently stuffed with her delicious homemade Pelmeni. She gave a light laugh at the sight of your wide, curious eyes paired with stuffed cheeks. "Childe mentioned how you saved him when he ran away from him..." and the mother continued to spill the details you were never given the chance to hear from the man himself.

You suppose this was the cause of your perfectly crafted aura of trust, to lure in your targets and make them spill to their heart's contents as you indulge them. In the end, Childe's mother's true intention was to thank you for all that you had done for her son, and to help him cultivate into the best person he could be among the ranks of the Harbinger. You gulped the last bits of the dumpling, a shy smile placated on your cheek, "It is my honor to take him under my wing."

"Hey, master, I sure hope mum didn't say anything embarrassing about me while I was gone!" A hand holding a tissue softly wiped the cream at the edge of your lips as Childe- Ajax finally made his way over to your table.

"It's okay, really, it's normal for children to pee their bed." You mused as Childe's mother laughed at the way her son choked over his own spit. Ah, you were right.

The rest of the day was filled with ice-skating, something you have forgotten, clumsily held up by the three younger siblings as they expertly excelled in the field. And right after was a session of ice fishing with their father, who was greatly impressed by your strength upon reeling the 50-centimeter long tuna. Flopping on to the ice platform as if to chase the children on land.

"Don't want to stay? There's a spare room here, you can borrow my big sister's clothes for the night. It's a long way back to the Palace," he stood next to you outside the entrance of his home while you face the other direction.

You sighed. "Tartaglia, I'm your mentor. And as the 10th Harbinger, your ascension should be my priority." You didn't see the way his jaw clenched at the intonations of your words. "If it were a different circumstance-"

"Next week," the snow caught on to your lashes as you closed your eyes, basking at the cold that bites at your cheeks. "Will be my last try. And after that, please see me as your equal."

"Alright." Your hands trembled.

x. final spar

Fatuus lined the veranda surrounding the quadrangle in quiet anticipation, skirmishers and agents alike that had yet to be assigned under Harbinger supervision and even those who just had nothing better to do.

Childe had anticipated the spotlight, but it was a greater scale he was not comfortable on. He was lucky a Harbinger had yet to watch the spar, the last spar as he had promised, and it seemed the gossip had spread enough to alert the whole organization. The Delusion mask sat by the side of his hair as he watched you at the other end of the field.

Your eyes held no emotion as they stared through his soul. A different kind of emotion he'd have wanted to see. He thinks to himself at the thought of you once being in the same predicament as him, did you feel the same fear and worry as he did? Did it take you ten tries? Maybe more, maybe less?

Tartaglia said this will be the last spar, and the final chance for both sides to make it a fair fight (to give it their all). But when you suddenly disappeared and materialized above him with your spear ready to strike, he thought, maybe not this time either.

The spear collided with the dirt floor as blades of winds seem to have exploded from it, a series of gasps resounding through the crowd as they stepped away from the edge. Tartaglia softly landed back on his feet after the successful somersault, materializing his water polearm to strike his elemental slash from the distance. But you stood still, unscathed as the wave that was meant to slice you turned into ice before it could come any closer. Fuck, Tartaglia knew his Vision was weak to yours.

You charged at him once again with the boost of your Anemo delusion, your polearms clashing painfully as you both tried to get hits on each other. There was a nick at this cheek to draw the first blood, your dominant hand twirling the spear easily Tartaglia retreats back to avoid the wildly spinning blade.

Soon enough he dons his own mask and the real fight begins. Electric currents ran through the field as an icy fog starts to envelop the floor, superconduct reaction running the parameter of the field as the Fatuus back away further. The next time your blades meet, a crackle of lightning resounded through the whole palace. Smacking his blades upward, your spear quickly sweeps down to swipe at this ankles, forcing him to leap as the fog obscures the reach of your polearm. Mid-air, he was kicked on the chest as your acrobatic arms held you up and over.

Soon enough his hunger for victory begins to manifest, and his biggest advantage comes into play: overwhelming strength.

Tartaglia felt huge triumph when you finally used both of your hands to parry his blows, your feet sometimes sinking into the dirt floor under the pressure of his attack. For the first time in the fight, your facade cracked with a grimace as you held your polearm up against his dual blades. Quickly leaning away, you brought your foot up and pushed at the spear's shaft, enough to force him back as you leaped out of his range. There was sweat trickling at the back of your neck now, feeling the sizzle of the current on the slight moisture. You swiped your spear in a crescent motion as a snow avalanche bombarded Tartaglia's side when he tried to approach, giving you just enough time to breathe as he tries to free himself under the snow.

By the time he's set himself free, you were already running forwards with your hands gripping your spear at your right for a swiping motion. He fashions his dual blades as he too sprinted in the middle to clash, weapons encased with frost and electricity. In a split second, his arms raised to your left, knowing this was your non-dominant side would make it easy to send you flying at the angle of approach. A powerful blow against another was about to shake the whole Palace—

"Columbina!" The vagrant's voice pierced through the crackle of elements, and Tartaglia's eyes widened when he had noticed your foot slip at the distraction. The inertia of his arms unable to stop the course of action; superconduct and electro-charged reactions creating a powerful explosion as the iced fog seem to have imploded from the force.

Childe's moist hands trembled as his vision tries to refocus. There's a ringing in his ears as he tries to grip at his hands, the electricity coursing through his nerves to make it numb. He desperately closed and opened his fists, and when he finally settled his sights straight, the dripping red liquid had splattered all the way to his mask and arms. With hesitation his sights followed the trail of blood and frost splayed across the field barely visible as the mist still covered the floor with a thin veil, his steps halted at the sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes, and he didn't need to look to know what it was.

"GET THE MEDIC NOW, PREPARE THE INTENSIVE CARE UNIT!" Pedrelino's voice reverbed through the field as the few agents that finally recovered from the shock went into emergency actions, some running off and some running to the direction of where the blood trail ends.

There was an obvious pool of blood forming under you, as your whole torso was littered with the same redness. Your left ribcage was angled inwards in an anomalous way as the dual blades had logged itself in between the ribs. You were already unconscious as blood dripped from the side of your lips;

how unfortunate, Childe collapsed to his knees in front of you. You didn't get to congratulate him.

xi. eleventh of the fatui harbinger

His mission had been explained to him concisely and accurately alongside Signora's assignment right after he had been acknowledged as officially part of the Fatui. The throne room had itself full of the Harbingers (with a glaring absence of one) as the Tsaritsa empowered him with her will and concise plan, the gravity of the law and order of the universe and its incoming divine war finally weighing on his shoulders. It was, after all, his wish to end the ministrations of being under someone's supervision and finally walk his path of conquering.

A month after the fight had him standing by the piers of the Snezhnayan ocean. Here he will finally depart to Liyue where his true mission lays, as well as the franchise of the Northland Bank he'd have to oversee. The influx of information for both his and the other's works had his head reeling, pleading silently at the hope that you'd be there to reassure and clarify what exactly he needs to do.

But you're not. In fact, Childe hasn't seen you in the whole month after that fight. He was prohibited from approaching your ward as you were still unstable and fragile to risk; no, everyone was not allowed to enter, he assured himself. He had not seen nor heard you throughout the grieving process of a moment he should have been proud to boast.

During that time, Childe had also adamantly avoided Scaramouche.

He heaved a tired sigh as the consequences weighed his resolve once again, were you still unconscious? Are you still in critical condition or are you recovering? If things ended ever so differently, would you be there next to him to wave him off to his first major assignment? "Liyue, huh, that's a pretty nice nation."

Childe produced a strangled noise when he turned to his right, where you stood, watching the ocean horizon. Your hair was slightly disheveled yet framed your face naturally. There were bandages wrapped all over your torso, peeking out from the sleeves of your unusually covered attire, and your left arm settled on a sling meant to lessen the constraints of your side instead of sporting an actual broken limb. When Childe's calculating gaze settled on your face, you had a calm expression.

"Congratulations, you're finally on your way to your first mission."

"Thank you, although I heard it's quite different from what I'm used to. Besides seafood, too many new customs."

You produced a soft gasp as your eyes widened slightly. Childe stood guard, waiting for you to tell him what was wrong. "I'm a failure of a mentor," what. His eyes watched as you turned to face him (as he did) with an amused glint in your eyes paired by a light smirk. "I didn't get to teach you how to use chopsticks."

His face dropped into a deadpan, before you two harmonized into bouts of varying laughter. Your other hand placed itself on your chest to minimize the vibrations of your giggles, not wanting to put pain into yourself. A flash of hurt recognition passed through his eyes.

"Master, I'm so-"

"(Y/N)." You immediately interjected as you gazed at him past your eyelashes. His breath hitches.

"Ah, (Y/N)," you nodded at his experimental taste of your name and urged him to continue. He opens his mouth before closing it again, a silent debate within the depths of his brain, before his lips parted with a different thought. "Teach me when I come back, please?"

Your eyes widen in surprise and amusement, "I'm sure you'd pick it up easily."

You're not wrong, but he's adamant. "Nah, I'm sure I wouldn't, I heard they're really a handful. I'd rather wait for you."

Giggling again, you raised your mobile hand as he did own, exchanging the most genuine smile. "Okay, pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

I wrote this for two hours straight to the point that my left arm doesn't work anymore....

@moaa @kookieyachi @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin impact Childe #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #sojourner special #female reader #Harbinger #brrrrt

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bts-reveries · 3 years

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expect the unexpected | 5

(text after images + more images at the end!)

“It’s open!”

“Auntie Rin!” Haneul yells, running to the door as one of your best friends walks in. He smiles up at her, waving.

“Hi Haneul, how’ve you been?” Rina asks, closing the door behind her.

“Good,” he says, looking behind her. “Where’s hyung?” He asks sadly, realizing Sian is not with her.

“He’s at home with Tokki and Uncle JK,” she says, reaching down to squish his cheek. “Where’s mommy?” Rina asks.

“I’m here!” You yell from the hallway, running to the living room. “Hey,” you say, walking up to her to give her a hug. She groans, hugging you tighter.

“I’m so tired,” she says, leaning into you. You laugh, she’s going through that new mom phase again… but with a puppy this time.

“Go ahead and take a nap in our guest room then,” you say, pulling away from her, holding onto her arms. “I can wake you up when Yuna comes.”

“Are we having a playdate?” Soojin asks, walking into the living room.

“Yes, but only for your mommy and aunties,” Rina says, laughing at Soojin’s reaction when she frowns up at her.

“Siannie hyung is not here,” Haneul pouts, resting his head on his palms as he looks at his sister from the arm of the couch.

“Gyu will be here later though,” you tell your kids. You then turn back to Rina. “Go ahead and take a nap, Yuna will be here in like an hour. I’ll wake you up then,” you say.

“Okay okay, thank you,” Rina says. She then walks off towards your guest bedroom when she stops halfway.

“Oh yeah,” she says, opening up her bag. She then takes out three bags of cookies. “I got these before I left work.”

“AHHhhhhH!” Haneul screams, sliding off of the couch and running to Rina. Rina laughs, handing one to him and then the other to Soojin.

“Thank you!” they both yell with joy.

“You’re welcome~ Umm.. Where’s Minseok? This one’s for him.”

“He’s reading in his room,” you say, “I’ll give it to him though, thank you! Go ahead and sleep now, you’re going to knock out any second.” You laugh as you watch her eyes flutter, trying her best to stay awake.

“Alright,” she says, finally going to the room. “Wake me up when she gets here!”

“I will, I will.”

“Soojin, you wanna wake up Auntie Rin?” You ask as you let Yuna and Mingyu in.

“Um, no,” Soojin says, returning back to her cookie and the show playing on the tv. You scoff, shaking your head.

“I have a better idea,” Yuna says walking towards the guest room. “Wanna come Haneul?” She asks. Haneul excitedly runs to Yuna, going inside the room first.

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what she was up to.

“Attack!” You hear Yuna yell, you hear her throw the kids onto the bed.

“Auntie Rin! Auntie Rin!” You hear the kids yell.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” you hear Rina say. “Oh gosh, you guys are so cUTE!”

You laugh at her reaction, you know Yuna just gave her baby fever.

Again.

“How dare you wake me up like this,” Rina says, walking out holding Mingyu in one arm and Haneul in the other. “I just got better from baby fever, I can’t have it again, I don’t need another baby right now.”

“That puppy really keeps you up at night doesn’t it,” you say. Rina nods, a yawn escaping her lips.

“It’s okay, I still love her though,” she says. You nod. You always wanted a dog, but you barely have any time.

“Babe,” your husband says, walking out of Minseok’s room, “I just finished helping Minseok with his homework and got a call from Yeonjun, a client rescheduled-- oh hey girls.” Jin waves at them, just noticing that your friends are over, and turns back to you. “I’m going to leave in a bit, Yeonjun and Jungkook should be stopping by in a couple of minutes.” When the name comes out of his mouth, Rina almost drops the kids.

“W-who’s coming by?” She stutters out.

“My secretary and your fiance--”

“UNCLE YEONJUN IS COMING?” Soojin practically screams, dropping the cookies to run to her room. Haneul and Mingyu don't hesitate to wiggle out of Rina’s arms to take them.

“Where are you going?” Jin calls out.

“I NEED TO LOOK PRETTY!” His daughter answers back. Jin turns towards you.

“I’m going to call Yeonjun and tell him to stay in the car.”

As if on cue, a knock came from the door and you all turned towards it.

“It’s open!” Haneul yells, running to the door. Mingyu follows after him.

The door then opens and Tokki comes running in, jumping on everyone he sees. Knocking down the youngest member.

“Siannie hyung!” Haneul yells, hugging and clinging onto Sian.

You turn to look at Rina who’s glaring at Jungkook. He smiles, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“Hey don’t look at me like that, blame the client that decided to reschedule!” Jungkook says.

“IS UNCLE YEONJUN HERE,” Soojin yells from her room.

“NO THE BETTER LOOKING UNCLE IS THOUGH,” Jungkook yells back.

Soojin comes running out of her room and the smile on her face wipes off when she doesn’t see Uncle Secretary.

“Do you not love me anymore?” Jungkook says, putting a hand to his chest.

“I still do,” she says, walking to her uncle and raising her arms for him to carry her. Jungkook picks her up and she wraps her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek and making Jungkook pout.

“Aw I want a daughter,” he says.

“Being in this house is dangerous,” Rina mumbles, referring to the baby fever you get when you enter the Kim’s residence.

“I think we have enough children in our group right now, but anywho,” Jin says, turning back to you. “I’ll be home by dinner,” he says, giving you a kiss. “Let’s go Kook,” he says. “The quicker we get there, the quicker we finish.”

“Okay hyung,” Jungkook says, putting Soojin down and walking over to Rina to give her a kiss as well.

“I feel so left out,” Yuna says, thinking about Jimin. Both Jungkook and Jin looked at each other before turning to Yuna and giving her an overly exaggerated flying kiss.

All three of you laugh at the boys’ antics, shaking your head.

“Thanks.” Yuna says sarcastically, “I feel so much better.”

“We’ll get going now,” Jin says, walking out with Jungkook.

Soojin pouts, dragging her feet towards you, hitting her head on your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

“I wanted to see Uncle Yeonjun,” she whines. You pick her up, and you and the girls exchange looks.

“Are the girls really growing up and liking boys now?” Yuna asks. “My heart hurts, I don’t think I’m ready.”

“So what are your plans for your big anniversary trip?” Rina asks, sitting on your couch with a cup of coffee. She was glad that all the kids were just keeping themselves occupied and playing with the dog. She didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“Honestly, we haven’t talked about it much as I thought we would,” you say, taking a seat next to her. “He’s been busy with work, as you can tell, and then I’m busy with the kids and work too. I think as it gets closer, we’ll start to settle things. Like booking an airbnb, call his parents to watch over the kids, and take a few days off of work.”

“Isn’t your anniversary in a few days though?” Yuna asks. You were about to drink your coffee when you stopped halfway.

Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you went on the calendar app.

“You’re right. I guess we were too busy to notice,” you laugh half heartedly, “I’ll bring it up tonight, we’re planning to go to jeju island. Calling his parents and booking the place shouldn’t be too har--”

“NO,” you hear from the kids’ room, interrupting your sentence.

“MINES!”

“STOP IT!”

You three all turned to each other with furrowed eyebrows, turning to face the hallway.

“HANEUL STOP,” you hear your daughter yell, as soon as you hear ‘ow!’ and a loud cry afterwards, you three came running to the room.

The three of you got to the door of Soojin’s room where Tokki ran out of.

“What happened?” you say, walking towards the two crying boys on the floor.

“They were fighting over Tokki,” Sian says, calmly sitting next to Soojin. Both of them dangling their legs over the edge of the bed.

“Why were you two fighting over Tokki? You both can play with him,” you say, sitting down on the floor, calming your son and nephew. Yuna sits down with you, putting her son on her lap.

“You’re lucky Sian hyung lets you two play with his puppy,” you say, rubbing Haneul’s back.

“Haneul took Tokki from Sian and pushed Mingyu when he tried to pet him,” Soojin snitched. She folded her arms over her chest and crossed her leg over the other.

“Haneul why did you do that?” You ask calmly.

“My puppy!” Haneul yells, kicking his feet. Yuna got Mingyu to finally stop crying and calmed down.

“The two of you need to share okay?” Yuna says. “Mingyu go to Haneul and you two should say sorry to each other.”

“Actually, Tokki is MY puppy,” Sian corrects him, putting his finger up.

“No!” Haneul screams, angrily pushing Mingyu down as he walks towards him, knocking him down to the floor.

“WHY DID YOU PUSH HIM, SIAN IS THE ONE WHO SAID IT,” Soojin says, jumping off of her bed to run to Mingyu. Sian looks at her shocked.

As Haneul watches his sister run to his younger cousin, he pulls her hair as if he was jealous that she was going to Mingyu and not him.

“Haneul!” You exclaimed, grabbing his little fist that was shut tight around his sister’s hair.

“OW MOMMY OW!” Soojin yells.

“I’m sorry baby just-- hold on,” you say, trying to ungrip his hand.

Rina quickly left to go find wherever Tokki went to and silently whispered to herself, “Hmm, I guess baby tantrums are the best cure for baby fever.”

She walks into the living room and finds Minseok calmly petting Tokki on his lap while eating the cookie she gave him.

“Hi auntie, thank you for the cookie,” he smiles. Rina laughs as the scene in front of her was the complete opposite as the one she just left. She could still hear Soojin and Haneul screaming.

“Are they okay in there?” Minseok asks, pointing towards Soojin’s room. Rina turns towards the room and looks back at him, giving him a little shrug.

“Just baby drama,” she says, walking towards him and sitting next to him on the couch. “So do you want a dog of your own?” She asks, noticing how calm Tokki is with him. “You seem like you’re pretty good with dogs.” Minseok looks at her and nods.

“I would someday, but I think having Haneul and Soojin is enough,” he says, making his aunt laugh hysterically.

expect the unexpected

♡ part five: baby drama ♡

pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader

a/n: im just excited for when jin and yn goes on their anniversary 😭

taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @Chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @nightapple4jk @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @shinyplaidbagellamp @catspancake @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Text

Turning Point (Levi x reader)

Summary: After graduating college, you are presented with the opportunity of becoming a “counselor” at a small rehab facility located in the vast Montana wilderness. You didn’t know much about it, just that it was for troubled teens, ran by a privately funded staff. You are eager to meet the “campers” and your fellow counselors, but you know that it won’t be easy. You’ll have to build a strong relationship with both your coworkers and the campers, who aren’t exactly happy to be there.

Warnings: vomiting, lice, rehabilitation mentions, allusions to ED, mentally ill teens.

Word Count: 4.6K

The bus bounced over the dirt road, making the vehicle feel like a metal death trap.The scenery was stunning, the mountainous road was not well traveled and only the occasional car whizzed by the bus. You had known that the camp would be remote, but not this isolated. Located deep in the heart of Montana, it could be reached by bush planes or the lone bus that dared traverse the mountains. A wet nose pressed against your knee and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Looking down into Aspen’s wide blue eyes you chuckled quietly and scratched behind her floppy ear.

She was one of the few possessions that you had been allowed to bring along. The bus wasn’t the most spacious, only allowing each rider two bags. Aspen let out a huff and rested her head onto your thigh, ears drooping as she relaxed into you. You felt bad about the long drive, but she was always good on long car rides between the campus and your hometown. You absently stroked her as you allowed your eyes to wander around the bus for the millionth time.

You look up front to see the larger lady who drove the bus with little concentration. She hummed along to an older song that didn’t seem familiar to you. Her eyes met yours in the large mirror up front. Giving you a toothy smile that showed her yellow teeth. You look away quickly, her gaze making you uneasy. The boy to your right twitches in his sleep. You hadn’t noticed him much before, he was young, his long blonde hair tangled and ratty. His old grey sneakers held small holes that showed his patterned socks.

You wondered why he was going to the farm, seeing that it was for troubled kids in general there could be many reasons for his enrollment. On the spotty website that the rehab had provided, it had listed anger management, depression, group therapy, and a bunch of other mental resources. You turned as subtly as possible to glance at the pair in the back of the bus, two girls who shared a seat, as well as a pair of earbuds.

Both of them had ash blonde hair, one was taller than the other maybe standing at 5’7 while the other stood at about 5’4. The one on the left kept her hair in a messy ponytail as her steel grey eyes met yours. Her lip busted, her cheek bruised as she glared at you. You could tell she didn’t like your staring. The girl beside her looked younger. Her eyes were closed as she slept calmly on the other's shoulder. Her eyes held dark circles under them, her skin was pale, and her hair was choppily cut to fall just above her shoulders. From what you could tell, she had cut it herself, but it looked good.

You see the boy from up front stretch his arms and yawn loudly. He looked at the bus driver and you could see a large smile stretch across his face.

“Lavern, my girl.” The boy said loudly, his voice still scratchy with sleep. The older woman gave him a sly smile and turned the wheel in her moment of distraction. The bus jerked to the side, causing you to slightly swing out of your seat. Aspen yelped as her claws scratched against the floor trying to regain her balance. You blindly reached out and snagged her by her harness, barely catching her before she slipped into the seat across the aisle.

“Connie you rascal!” Lavern let out a bark of laughter as she righted the wheel. The boy, Connie shrugged and grinned impishly back at her as she pushed a wispy lock of her bright blue hair behind her ear.

“How much longer?” The taller girl yelled from the back, her hand wrapped around the other girl’s shoulders as she glared daggers up at the front of the bus.

“Ten minutes sweetie.” Lavern hollered back as she pulled on a pair of dramatic red cat eyed reading glasses that had been dangling around her neck. The girl nodded, but still seemed displeased with the news. The boy turned his sly gaze onto you and you swallowed a bit nervously. His eyes widened, and yours mirrored his, he leaned forward and his stare intensified. The air that was flowing through the cracked window quickly dried out your eyeball and you blinked, tears forming. A loud clap made you jump, forcing you to open your eyes and see that Connie had clapped his hands together and rocked backwards with a victorious smirk.

“I won!” He jeered as he hopped a seat closer to you, long locks swaying in the breeze. From the closer proximity you could make out the logo on his shirt, a lone cabin with an oak tree and fancy cursive lettering that read: “Turning Point Farms”. A dead giveaway that Connie was a returning camper.

“What?” You said a bit nervously as Connie jumped yet another seat closer to you, his eyes now trained on Aspen, who you were still gripping. From this distance you could now smell the prominent scent of weed that hung in the air around him. He raised a brow at you and dug into his pocket, producing a dab pen, which he dangled between his index and thumb.

“Care for a hit before a year of sobriety?” Connie asked, ignoring your befuddlement. Your mouth twisted into a frown at the sight, but you still took the pen. Pocketing the device as he stared at you in shock. You smirked at how quickly the tables had turned.

“I’ve been sober.” You said a bit cheekily as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“No need to be a hard ass.” Connie grumbled as he switched his focus to your dog, who was pulling at the harness, eager to greet him.

“Sorry.” You said weakly as you loosened your grip and allowed Aspen to sniff Connie’s offered fist.

“Who is this?” He asked as he scratched behind her ears, much to her pleasure.

“This is Aspen, my Australian Shepherd.” You introduced her proudly, and her stumpy tail wagged at the mention of her name.

“Cool, how old?” Connid asked as he slipped his hands beneath her harness and scratched her sides.

“Three years, do you have pets?” You asked, trying to find a common ground.

“Used to have a hamster, but I flushed it down the toilet when I was six.” Connie commented nonchalantly as he pressed a kiss to Aspen’s forehead.

“Oh...I’m sorry?” You said awkwardly as you grimaced.

“Don’t be, he was an annoying little fucker.” Connie chuckled as he leaned back and looked out the window and immediately perked up.

“Hey look you can see the house from here!” He said enthusiastically, pointing towards the front of the bus, which was turning down a long winding road framed by tall trees on either side. Sure enough, at the end of the long dirt drive, a massive white farmhouse sat perched on a small hill in the middle of a clearing, to the right a huge red barn sat, and even further right, a massive stable with sprawling paddocks. To the left, there was another barn, this one looked like it was more like a space for people then animals, with nice rocking chairs set up under the overhanging roof that wrapped around the barn. Behind the whole scene was the mountains and uninterrupted wilderness.

“Been here before?” Connie called to the girls in the back, but when they showed zero interest in talking to him, he turned back to you and raised a brow.

“Uh no.” You said with a nervous smile and he nodded before pointing out towards the stables.

“Out that way is the lake, opposite direction is the trails.” He said with a proud nod and then pointed to the space between the barn and the house.

“Over yonder is the chicken coop, one of my personal favorites.” He said with a wink before standing up, gripping the seat in front of him as he rocked excitedly on his heels.

The bus came to a screeching halt and Lavern leaned forward to dig out a cigarette and lit it, blowing out a puff of smoke. She grappled with the lever for the door for a moment before cursing loudly.

“Damn it all! Connie, come kick this piece of shit open for me sweet pea!” Connie was quick to comply, even going as far as saluting her before jogging to the doors and lifting his leg. With one swift kick the door flew open and the cool fall breeze swept in. You swept up your bags as well as Aspen’s leash before carefully picking your way down the aisle. Lavern nodded at you and pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, blowing a puff of smoke out to the side.

“Take it easy sweet heart.” She said, voice raspy and eyes twinkling behind her dramatic glasses.

“Thanks for the ride.” You smiled and guided Aspen down the steps and out onto the gravel drive. She panted anxiously as Connie adjusted the straps on his lone bag and pushed his long hair off of his face.

“First thoughts?” Connie asked, looking back at you as he rested his hands on his hips.

“It’s beautiful.” You smiled brightly at him, but you were distracted by the squeaks of the suspension as the two girls climbed down the steps. They also only carried one bag each, they looked as if they had seen better days. Or at least, you hoped that they had. The taller girl was keeping the other girl upright as she struggled to stand on her own.

“Someone looks like they partied.” Connie said before impulsively scratching his head, hazel eyes squinting as he hit the itchy spot. You looked back once more at the girls before your attention was turned to a chipper woman who ambled down the old porch stairs. Your eyes widened as she booked it down the hill at record speed, her arms swinging to keep her balance. Once she reached the bus, she took a few steadying breaths before swinging her arm toward the arch that the bus was parked under. You followed her hand and smiled, the bold letters spelled out-

“Welcome to Turning Point.” The brunette smirked and straightened up, pushing her bangs out of her face.

“Hange!” Connie opened his arms and jogged up to her, but the brunette caught him by his forehead, her eyes narrowed at him as she used her other hand to hold him at bay by his shoulder.

“Hold it right there Shaggy, I know how you operate.” Connie sulked and pushed his bottom lip out and went limp in her grasp.

“Gotta watch out for this one, he has surprisingly soft hands.” Hange said with a wink and you raised a brow, suddenly as she scanned over the other two girls.

“But enough about that!” Hange said, suddenly shoving Connie away, he swung his arms as he tried to fight for his balance. You had been so interested in the exchange before you that you almost missed the two nurses jogging up after Hange.

“Alright ladies, let’s get you all settled!” She said with a softer tone as she stooped to pick up their bags. The two nurses had finally caught up and both offered you smiles.

“Hi, I’m Moblit, the head nurse here.” The dirty blonde man said, extending his hand to the smallest girl, who flinched at the motion, despite her reluctance he seemed to take it in stride. As Hange marched back up the hill you followed, feeling a bit lost and useless.

“My name is Nifa.” the other nurse introduced herself as she blew some of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face.

“I’m (Y/n), I’m the new counselor here.” You said with a slightly forced smile as Nifa nodded as the group of people slowly began migrating up the hill.

“Excellent! I’ll be showing you ladies around this afternoon!” Hange said enthusiastically as she heaved one of the bags over her shoulder.

“Hey what about me!” Connie whined as he readjusted his bag and pushed his tangled hair out of his face.

“He’ll be out soon Connie!” Hange called over her shoulder as she pushed onwards, Nifa excused herself and went to help the other girl who seemed a bit jittery. You tailed the group, Aspen eagerly pulling at the leash, trying to take in all of the new surroundings, you glanced back at the bus one final time. Lavern must have managed to close the doors, because Connie was now banging on the bus door, his palm slapping loudly against the glass as Lavern cackled in the driver’s seat. You smiled and turned forward once more, focusing on keeping Aspen from chasing a small gaggle of geese that was crossing the dirt path in front of you.

“I’ll have Mike show you the kennels.” Hange shouted over her shoulder, you nodded in understanding, you felt bad for Aspen, but you knew that it would be best for her to sleep in the kennel.

“Okay thank you.” You said appreciatively as you managed to regain Aspen’s attention, the two of you still trailing behind the group.

“Hange, Nifa and I can handle getting these two settled in if you would like to show (Y/n) around.” Moblit said with a soft smile as he adjusted his grip on the small girl.

“Alright, only if you’re sure.” Hange sighed as she set the bags down by the top of the stairs.

“We’ve got them.” Nifa said reassuringly as the pair continued on into the house while you and Hange remained out on the porch.

The screen door slammed loudly behind them as they ascended the stairs, where you assumed the rooms were. You could hear a commotion going on somewhere in the house, the sound of pots banging followed by some colorful curse words.

“Ah our lovely chef Niccolo, you’ll meet him tonight.” Hange informed you as she steered you in the direction of the pole barn to the left of the house.

“Oh wow, what kind of meals do you guys usually have?” You asked, leaning down to pet Aspen, who was panting loudly.

“You know, the balanced ones.” Hange said coyly, waving her wrist around dismissively.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Hange slammed her fist against the door a few times, the flimsy screen door rattling at the impact.

“Levi! Connie is at the base of the hill waiting for you!” She called into the house. The far off sound of a toilet flushing and then one of the doors that lined the front hallway swung open. A man wearing a bandanna over his mouth and hair emerged, bright yellow gloves covering the majority of his arms. He wore a jean jacket that looked well worn, a cream colored turtleneck underneath, and a pair of black jeans as well as old brown work boots. He sighed and peeled the gloves off of his hands as he stalked out of the house, pushing past the door he spared you a fleeting glance before shoving his yellow gloves into your chest. Aspen sniffed at his pants leg as he glared at Hange. He pulled the bandannas off of his head to reveal his inky black undercut, which was surprisingly well kept.

“And you left him unattended?” He growled as you struggled to catch the rubber gloves.

“He’s fine, look he’s waiting patiently for you!” Hange held her arm out towards where the bus was pulling off towards the pole barn, Connie was giving chase, his long hair flowing behind him as he booked it after the bus. Levi groaned and shot a chilling glare at Hange who shrugged.

“I’ll be back.” Levi grumbled as he walked down the stairs with a little bit of a hustle in his step.

“Oh I almost forgot! He’s got a bad case this time!” Hange called after Levi as he marched across the large lawn. Levi turned and glared as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves which he snapped on over his hands. Hange cackled as she watched him ball his hands into fists and you let the rubber gloves in your hands fall to your sides as you stared after him. You then turned to look at them and frowned, what were you, his mom? You stalked over to one of the small tables that were by the rocking chairs and set them down with a scoff.

“Right then, back on task!” Hange chirped as she turned to head in the opposite direction that Levi had gone in. Hange led you through the large yard, all the way out to the barn, where she showed you the facilities’s therapy animals, that also doubled as a source of income, the cows were used for milk, goats as well, sheep for wool. It was rather efficient, the space was clean and you could tell that Aspen was already falling in love with the sheep.

Behind the barn was the chicken coop and the duck pen, both of which were butchered and used for eggs respectively. Hange showed you the storage room where the feed and other tools were kept.

“But you won’t have to worry too much about the animals, that’s Mike’s job.” Hange explained as she steered you towards the stables. The large building was filled with beautiful horses, which were already fed and watered for the evening. She explained that they were used mostly for the cattle that free roamed the acres that the farm owned. She also assured you that you would get to learn how to corral the cattle, something about: “Erwin made that a team effort.” you had smiled and nodded. Even though you had never ridden a horse in your damn life.

Next you trekked across to the pole barn, which had a large basketball court, as well as a few rooms for crafts and other group activities. Hange even showed you the living space that was on the upper level.

“This is where Mike and Nanaba sleep.” She said, showing you the makeshift apartment that they had renovated to fit in the upper level of the barn.

“Wow, this is so nice.” You complimented as Aspen sniffed at the table leg.

“Ah she probably smells Buck, Mike’s red heeler.” Hange said with a chuckle, stooping down to scratch Aspen’s back.

“She loves playing with other dogs.” you assured her as the two of you made your way out of the barn and back towards the house in the fading light.

“Good, we got plenty of ‘em around here.” Hange huffed and you smiled, excited to meet all of the animals that the facility had to offer.

“I’ll show you to the kennels and then to your room.” She did just that, helping you settle Aspen into her new home for the next year, where four other dogs were already chowing down on their dinner. A massive man with blonde hair and a scraggly beard was finishing up watering the dogs as the two of you entered.

“Mike! This is our newbie (Y/n) and her dog Aspen.” Hange introduced you and you nodded politely at him as he grunted and stooped to greet your dog before you, which you only took minorly offensive.

“Pleased to meet you.” He said in a gruff voice as he rose to his full height once more.

“Likewise.” You said as you reached down to undo Aspen’s harness and put her away in the spacious kennel that was attached to the barn. Mike assured you that he would feed her for you and waved you and Hange off, mumbling about how you were disturbing his routine.

Finally you and Hange wandered into the huge house. It had a porch that wrapped around the entire house, a front door and back door. The front door opened up into a hallway that went straight into the living room, which was very homey, on the right there was a bunch of doors that Hange explained were rooms that the staff used to sleep in whenever they had campers who tended to wander during the night. She then led you back towards the front of the house, going left where the dining room was, a series of mismatched tables that were currently being set by a brunette girl, her hands shaking as she worked. You could see how thin she was and your heart ached for her. Hange steered you towards the kitchen, where a blonde man was slaving away over the stove, along with two boys, one brunette and the other a dirty blonde.

“Jean and Eren are on kitchen duty tonight, helping Niccolo.” Hange explained as you took a moment to watch the boys work. They were doing the dishes, Eren washing while Jean dried. The two of you then continued on with the tour, up the stairs to the second floor. Here was the rooms, none of them had doors, inside each was a simple bed and some minor personal flares. One of the most notable was a picture wall, neatly measured out to be a perfect square. From the distance you could make out at least three distinguishable faces, Eren, as well as two other kids, a girl with black hair and a blonde boy. A sudden crash made both you and Hange go rigid, the two of you marched down the hall to see the girl from earlier, the tallest one in a blinding rage. Nifa was trying her best to help the girl get unpacked but no matter how many times she put the clothes away, the girl just threw them out onto the floor.

“Give me a moment please.” Hange excused herself as she stalked into the room and began speaking in a hushed tone to the girl who in turn screamed back.

“I don’t care! I just want to be with her. Why is that so hard to understand!” She wailed before collapsing onto the bed, Hange sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her bicep soothingly. You watched with a worried expression as the girl tried to feebly push Hange off, her hand slapping pathetically against her chest. Hange looked on with a patient expression as she waited for her to calm down. Once the girl had tired herself out Nifa took over, finishing up the cleaning and then thanking Hange who slipped away from the slumped girl.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for one day don’t you?” Hange sounded tired, as she led you back down the stairs and into one of the staff rooms.

“Yes I agree.” You said with a slightly forced smile as you dropped your bag onto the bed. Hange reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper.

“Here’s the weekly schedule. Tonight I have you helping with detox for Connie, it’s gunna be a rough one.” Hange said with a sympathetic smile.

“Normally I wouldn’t give a rookie this responsibility but we’re shorthanded right now so…”

“It’s fine I can manage.” You smiled and swept some hair out of your face.

“Yeah and Zeke shouldn’t be in until tomorrow afternoon with the restock for the meds, so we’ll be roughing it tonight, it’ll be all hands on deck.” Hange mumbled with her hand on her chin as she thought. You nodded in understanding and shuffled a bit nervously.

“But don’t worry, I won’t leave you completely alone, Levi will be with you. I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine.” Hange assured you.

“Okay well do you want something to eat?” Hange offered with an apologetic smile.

“Ah actually I think that I’ll handle this better on an empty stomach.” You grimaced and she nodded in understanding.

“Well then, I better go help out Alice, she’s going to have a rough night.” Hange excused herself and you stared down at the crumpled paper in your hands, the list taking up the entirety of the page. You decided that you didn’t want to get into it at the moment, instead pushing the paper into your back pocket. You marched down the hall towards the basement door, where Hange had told you the detox room was. Basically it was a room with a toilet, shower, and a small cot. Once you reached the foot of the stairs you heard the gags, and the sound of heavy breathing.

“-That’s it.” Levi’s baritone voice seemed to echo off of the empty basements walls from the crack in the door of the detox room.

“Shut the fuck up.” Connie moaned and you heard Levi chuckle darkly.

“I’m just trying to help you.” Levi said, voice surprisingly soft.

“Yeah like you haven’t done enough already, cut my damn dreads, scrubbed me raw, threw out my shoes and took away my phone!” Connie sounded like he wasn’t too upset, which you admired briefly before you heard the sound of him purging again.

“You know the rules, besides I couldn’t let you walk around looking like a hot mess.” You could hear the sound of a hand patting someone’s back and you assumed Levi was soothing Connie. You approached the door and rapped on the frame gently.

“Who is it?” Levi’s voice seemed to harden with each syllable and you winced.

“It’s me, Hange sent me to help you guys out.” You said, even though to you it seemed that Levi had things covered.

“Come on in.” He welcomed and pushed inside the room, it was painted a soothing grey, with an open shower and toilet as well as a sink but no mirror. The bed was pressed against the corner and had only a thin blanket and a limp pillow. Levi and Connie were both crouched by the toilet, your eyes widened at Connie’s fresh haircut. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that Levi had cut off his dreads. Connie now had a buzzcut, his peach fuzz exposed the skin on his scalp and on the back of his neck, which was littered with tiny red bites. You realized that it must have been lice, and you frowned but went to crouch on his other side.

“Hey man.” You greeted with a weak smile.

“Hey sexy.” Connie rested his cheek on his forearm as he turned his head to greet you. Levi scoffed and stood up to wet a washcloth.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, reaching behind him to run your fingertips gently over his scapula, he shivered and smiled a watery smile at you, sniffling slightly before composing himself.

“Like fucking shit.” He laughed, but it held little to no humor.

“I’m sure.” You sympathized and continued rubbing his back as he turned to look back into the bowl of the toilet as he dry heaved. Levi came back with the warm washcloth and draped it over the back of Connie’s neck and the boy shivered at the sensation. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Levi rest a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hope you aren’t wearing anything too nice.” He said a bit wryly before releasing you and returning to his place next to Connie.

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dont-cry2020 · 4 years

Text

“Too Early for Another One?”

Harry Styles x Reader

//Dad! Harry realizes that his baby girl isn’t his baby girl anymore, and you reminisce on your past together//

//LOTS of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, and mentions of smut but no actual smut//

//This ones really long oops hehe 2,725 words//

It seems like just yesterday when Harry’s oldest daughter was born. He remembers how brave you were, painfully giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. He remembers how overwhelmed he felt as she let her first tiny cry. He couldn’t help but choke back a sob at the sight of her. She was wholly you and Harry together, and he couldn’t wait to have more kids with you.

The name Margot was your idea; you had always loved the name, and the French influence reminded you of Harry. Not to mention she had her father’s green eyes and, you would come to learn, his unruly hair. Harry had loved the idea of Margot. He thought it was beautiful, just like you, he told you, his baby girl gripping his finger as his other arm was thrown across your shoulders, holding the most beautiful baby you had ever laid eyes on.

Anne, Margot’s middle name, was Harry’s doing. He liked having his mother present in his daughter’s name, especially seeing as she taught him everything he needed to know about babies when she learned about y/n’s pregnancy. Even the more ~gruesome~ details. Harry was thankful nonetheless; fatherhood terrified him. Although, you never hesitated to tell him how amazing of a father he was to your children.

Especially after you had three more...

Harry really couldn’t help himself back then. He’d go on tour for two weeks at a time, flying back to spend time with his family. He’d always say, “Too early for another one?” after he put the kids to bed, and you would just slap his arm and roll your eyes.

It was a Friday night at the Styles’ residence, and you were busy in the kitchen cooking dinner and entertaining your two-year-old, Fletcher, as your ten-year-old, Matt, chased your six-year-old, Piper, around the house.

Harry puts his keys in the front door, ruffling his hair as he walks into the large foyer and kicks his shoes off.

“Matt! Put that down and stop chasing your sister!” Harry chuckles under his breath as he hears your frustration.

“I’m home!” he shouts, just loud enough for the kids in the kitchen to come running towards him. A string of “Daddy!”s are heard as they run into his arms.

“Hey guys,” Harry says enthusiastically, kissing his two kids on the head. “How was school?”

Harry smiles as Piper babbles on about the art project she did in Kindergarten today and Matt goes on about how his friend drank hot sauce in the school cafeteria. He ruffles his son’s hair, his smirk prominent from his kids’ amusing anecdotes.

You pad out of the kitchen, Fletcher on your hip, and smile at the gorgeous man laughing and talking with your kids. It was these moments that made you fall in love with Harry all over again. He was the best father any kid could ask for, and he always made time for your children, even if it meant gunning it from the airport to make it to dance recitals and plays and award ceremonies. His job didn’t make it easy on him, but he always managed to spend as much time as possible with his family.

Harry finally looked up from his chattering kids, a tired smile meeting yours. His heart swells as he takes in your messy hair and flustered appearance, no doubt from trying to keep your three youngest from killing each other.

“Hi, beautiful,” Harry says, sauntering towards you with Piper and Matt at his side.

“Hi, Harry,” You say softly, pressing your lips to his.

“Ew!” Matt screams, running upstairs, Piper at his heels.

“No running in the house!” Harry shouts up the stairs, his lips still twisted in a wide grin, before pressing his lips to your forehead and taking Flecther from you. Harry follows you into the kitchen, sighing at the smell of dinner cooking on the stove.

“It smells delicious in here, y/n,” he says, bouncing your youngest on his hip and making funny faces at him. “Doesn’t it, Fletch?” Harry uses his ‘baby voice’, and it makes you melt.

You lean against the counter, pouring yourself a glass of wine and offering one to Harry, with which he happily obliges.

“Thank you, Har,” you say, pouring him a glass of Rose and kissing him on the cheek. “and thank you, Fletch.” You kiss your baby boy on the cheek too, and he laughs at you, making you and Harry smile.

“How was your day?” you ask your husband, tending to the food on the stove. Harry thinks for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it, furrowing his brow.

“Where’s Margot?” He asks, a frown drawn up on his tanned face. You purse your lips at his comment.

“She’s probably just in her room, face-timing that boy she likes.”

Harry’s eyes widen. He was not aware that his baby girl liked a boy. “She what? She’s 16!”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at his father-like instincts.

“Harry,” you scold, pulling what smelled so good out of the oven. “We met when I was 16, remember? And you were 17.”

Harry chokes on his wine, having to take a moment to compose himself. Memories of you and him as teenagers flood through his head. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. You give him a scolding look and he mutters a ‘sorry’, after glancing at the toddler still bouncing on his hip.

“Can you go get the kids for dinner, please?” you ask him, taking Fletcher from him.

“ ‘Course, baby,” he says, sauntering out of the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you set the table for five people, placing Flecther on his high chair next to you.

Harry goes up the stairs, first stopping in Piper’s room and then going to Matt’s, telling them that it’s time for dinner. He chuckles at how Matt consistently chases Piper everywhere they go.

Harry stops in front of Margot’s door, going to knock, but stopping his fist from hitting the wood when he hears strange noises coming from inside her room. Harry presses his ear to the door and listens. It wasn’t abnormal to hear talking or loud music coming from his daughter’s room, and she liked to keep her door closed so her younger brother wouldn’t go through her things. These sounds, though, were certainly not talking or music.

Harry felt his face pale at the moans coming from the other side of the door. Not his daughter. His sweet baby girl. He felt like he was going to be sick.

And then the rage set in.

He lets his fist rap against the door, before barging into the room.

A boy whom Harry had never seen before was on top of his daughter. Margot shrieked, grabbing the sheet and covering herself. The boy’s eyes were wide with horror as he stumbled around the room, looking for his pants.

“Get your clothes on and come downstairs. You have five minutes,” Harry says through gritted teeth, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Harry felt like he had failed as a father.

The worst feeling is when you don’t have control over a situation, and Harry knew that feeling all too well.

His baby girl, his first child, the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on (besides you, of course) was losing her virginity at 16. What if that wasn’t her first time? What if?

Harry slid down the wall, his head buried in his hands.

“Fuck,” he swore. What if I was too hard on them? Should I have just let them finish? Thoughts run through his head and he tugs at his hair.

“Harry?” you call from the bottom of the stairs. You amble up the tall staircase when you don’t receive an answer. His large body is propped up against the wall, crumpled in a ball with his hands covering his face. You fall to his side, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you comfort your husband, kissing the top of his head and squeezing him lightly. He removed his hands from his face, meeting your y/e/c eyes with his glassy green ones. You cup his jaw in your hands. “Hmm?”

“Do you remember when we first had sex?”

You let out a short laugh, puffing air out of your nose. “Yeah, I do,” you can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you recall the moment.

You were 16 and you had met Harry at a Starbucks in New York, of all places. He had ordered before you, and you couldn’t help but check out his broad back and the disheveled hair that topped his head. You ordered your coffee and stood by the counter next to the boy who ordered before you.

You recall how you would glance at him, and then he would glance at you when you turned away, and then you both did it at the same time, laughing and blushing at your silly antics.

“I’m Harry,” he had said, his British accent taking you by surprise.

“y/n,” you said, taking his large hand and shaking it. “What’s a Brit like you doing in New York City?” you ask him, smirking. You remember scanning his face and taking in his green eyes and pink lips.

You remember how your thoughts were interrupted as your name was called for your coffee. You hadn’t realized that Harry had already received his drink, and he was just waiting for you.

“I’m actually in a band,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and turning a little pink.

After that, he had asked what you were doing today because he had the day off. You said that you weren’t doing anything, just planning on going back to your apartment. He then asked you to give him a tour of the city, and you happily obliged.

The two of you exchanged numbers, and he promised to take you out on a proper date the next time he was in the city.

It was May when he met you, and by July, you were sure he had forgotten about you. But when he called, telling you that he was back and he wanted to see you, you were ecstatic.

He took you to dinner and then back to his hotel room where you spent the night, losing your virginity to him. He asked you to be his girlfriend and promised to call you every day.

Your daughter’s bedroom door bursts open, pulling you out of your thoughts. Harry bolts up from the floor and you do the same when you see the boy that follows her. Your eyes widen, finally realizing why Harry was upset.

“What’s going on here?” you say, fully aware of what’s going on from the bruise on Margot’s neck.

She clears her throat. “Mom, Dad,” she hesitates “this is Chris.” Chris nods, not meeting either of your eyes.

“Chris,” Harry says, anger flooding back into him. You look up at him, interlocking your fingers as a way to say ‘calm down’. He sighs.

“I suggest you go home.”

“Margot, why don’t you let Chris out, okay hun?” you say as softly as you can. She nods, silently leading the boy down the stairs.

Harry collapses in your arms, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your sent. You laugh softly at him, wrapping your arms around his large body bent over into yours.

“Okay, ya big baby,” you joke, rubbing your hand up and down his back comfortingly. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘ ‘m not a baby’ into your neck before standing and straightening himself up.

You sigh and rub your hands over his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of the button up he wore to the studio today.

“How are we going to deal with this?” Harry looks tired. The bags under his eyes are heavy, his pink lips pressed into a pout.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, running ringed fingers through his hair. “ ‘M not mad about the whole ‘havin’ sex’ thing,” he says “ ‘m jus’... mad tha’ she didn’t talk to us first. ‘M baby girl,” he mumbles.

“I know,” you say, resting your head on his chest. “Your baby girl is grown up now, though. And, yeah, she should have talked to us first... But- we did stupid things back then too. Remember when I had to call my mom and tell her that I was staying with a friend when you were literally on top of me?”

Harry smiles at the memory. “Ye-yeah,” he chuckles “i do remember tha’”

Margot saunters up the stairs, looking around nervously. Harry releases you from his arms and looks at his daughter. He wraps his arms around her, taking her by surprise before she melts into her father’s embrace.

“I love you, Dad,” she says, making your heart melt at your husband and your daughter.

“I love you, too,” he says, pulling away and resting his hands on her shoulders.

Harry sighs, turning to look at you for help.

“Why don’t we go eat dinner and we talk about this later?” you say, grabbing your daughter's hand and giving it a squeeze. They nod and follow you down the stairs in silence.

Harry laughed as Fletcher babbled with food in his mouth, refusing to eat it.

“C’mon Fletch,” you say, pushing the spoon to his mouth. “Open up.”

Everyone at the table laughs as Fletcher refuses the spoon, making a mess on the high chair and his face.

“Guys, please put your plates in the dishwasher,” Harry says after everyone finishes eating. Harry gives you a nervous look and you kiss his cheek softly, muttering an ‘it’s going to be okay’ into his ear. He squeezes your hip lightly in acknowledgment.

You and Harry walk up the staircase and you peek into Margot’s room, lightly knocking on the wood of the door. She looks up and smiles, letting you come in.

You sit down on the bed next to her, Harry following suit and sitting next to you, patting your thigh.

“Margot,” you say, “I-,” you stumble for your word and look at Harry for help.

“I’m sorry,” Margot says, looking like she’s going to cry.

“No baby,” you say, wrapping her into a hug.

“Margot,” Harry says, kneeling in front of his daughter. “we’re not mad at you for...that,” he chuckles to himself. “Your mom and I have had our fair share of that.”

“Harry!” you blurt, smacking his arm. Margot groans.

“Dad, please don’t.”

“Sorry, sorry. ‘M jus’ sayin’. It’s natural. We jus’ wish you would’ve talked to us first.” Harry brushes her hair behind her ears. “Jus’ wan’ you to be safe.”

Margot nods, hugging her dad. “I know.”

It was getting late at this point, so you dismissed yourself from the room to put your other kids to bed.

You poured yourself another glass of wine (it was Friday, why not?) and changed into one of Harry’s shirts, snuggling into your king-sized bed and turning on the tv.

Harry carefully opens the door as to not wake you in case you were sleeping. He’s pleasantly surprised to find you snuggled up in one of his shirts, a glass of wine in your hand and another waiting for him.

He would never tell you this, but he loved it when you wore his clothes. Especially the silk button-ups that hung off your frame. It drove him crazy.

He unbuttons his shirt and strips down to his boxers, your eyes shamelessly checking him out. He dives into bed, making you shriek as he laughs at you, planting a kiss on your cheek. You hand him his glass and he takes his position next to you, wrapping a muscular tattooed arm around your shoulders.

“How’d it go?” you whisper, ghosting your fingers over his chest. His hand rests on your bare thigh, his shirt riding up a little bit, exposing the fabric of your panties.

“Good,” he says quietly. “Really good.”

He turns to face you, a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes and place your glass of wine on the nightstand next to you.

“Too early for another one?”

You punch him on the shoulder as he climbs on top of you, trapping you in a sloppy kiss.

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #hs #fine line #harry styles dad imagine #dad!harry #y/n #harry x reader #Niall Horan #Zayn Malik #louis tomlinson #liam payne #5sos #one direction

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

The Dog Days of Summer

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,923

Warnings: A few mentions of Tom, but this is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

On one of the warmest days of summer, Frankie takes his dog to a one man dog wash. The last thing he expected was for his dog to lead him to the future love of his life, but hey, that’s how things work here.

“Community dog wash,” Frankie read off the flier that had been placed in his mailbox. “What do you think Red? Wanna go check it out?”

Red huffed from his spot on the couch.

Frankie chuckled, sitting beside Red. He’d always been a dog person, but could never see himself owning one. At least, not until he’d come home from his latest mission. When Tom had died, he’d left his beautiful Rottweiler dog to the boys. Apparently his wife and daughter weren’t dog people. The Millers couldn’t take Red, and Santi still hadn’t come back to the country. So the care of Red had fallen to Frankie.

Red was not a small dog. At almost 120 pounds, he could’ve been a menace if he wanted to. However, he was gentle as can be and so incredibly enthusiastic for literally anything. Frankie could still remember when Tom had brought Red to meet the boys, and he’d been a tiny fuzzy puppy who’d fallen asleep cradled in Frankie’s arms. Now, that baby was nearing 5, and was no less adorable.

The only thing Frankie hated about Red was having to bathe him.

Red was a menace on bath day. He cowered in the corner of the shower, never got close enough to the shower head to actually get clean, and bit Frankie when he tried to dry him off.

“I think we should go,” Frankie said, scratching behind Red’s ear. “Check it out. You might make some friends.”

Red boofed softly. Sometimes, he responded at just the right times and Frankie could’ve sworn he understood him.

Nearer to noon, Frankie got up off the couch and got dressed, Red dutifully following him and vibrating with excitement at Frankie put his harness on and led him to his truck.

The location of the dog wash wasn’t far. In fact, it was a few minutes away in a small public space. There were a few kiddie pools, a hose, and a single person standing there, drying off a small dog. A handmade sign read ‘Community Dog Wash.’

Frankie kept a firm hand on Red’s leash as he walked over. Tom had trained Red well, but he was still prone to overeager introductions or forgetting he was a big dog.

“Alrighty Ms. Avery, Lydia’s all clean!” you said, handing Ms. Avery her small dog back. Today was one of the nice days of summer, warm without being stifling. So you’d donned shorts, an old shirt, and a baseball cap you’d gotten from a friend and headed out to wash the neighborhood dogs. You did it every summer, and this year was no exception.

“Hello,” a slightly nervous voice said, and you looked around. A man who you’d seen once or twice around the neighborhood was standing there, a practically vibrating Rottie standing by his side. “Is this the dog wash?”

“Yep!” You said happily, kneeling down to introduce yourself to the dog. “Hello, who’re you?”

The man pat the dog’s head. “This is Red.”

Red, seizing his opportunity, licked your face.

“Red!” The man reprimanded, causing Red to whine. “No!”

“Oh it’s fine,” you reassured, wiping your face with your sleeve. “My dog is so much worse.”

As if on cue, your dog came ambling over. The man’s eyes went wide. “That’s not a dog. That’s a small bear.”

You reached up and scratched behind your dog’s ears. “Nah. She’s a Caucasian Shepherd dog. Her name is Oboe, short for Oberon.”

“Like the Game of Thrones character?”

“Midsummer’s Night Dream actually,” you said. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Frankie.”

You stood, brushing yourself off. “Well, Frankie. Shall we?”

Red was very eager to follow you right up until he discovered this would include water. At which he pulled on his leash and whined pitifully, trying to escape.

“I’m so sorry,” Frankie said as you stood by one of the pools and tried to contain your laughter. “He’s always like this when I try to bathe him.”

Oboe snorted, as if she was laughing. She had curled on the grass, bathing in the warm summer sun. You sighed. You’d have to get her some ice, or else she’d overheat herself.

You walked over to Red, grabbing him and lifting him with ease, which shocked Frankie. He stood there, wide eyed, as you plopped Red in the kiddie pool and got in with him, straddling the dog and squeezing his hips with your legs. “See, this isn’t so bad.”

Red whined and tried to run, but your grip on him tightened. “Frankie, can you hand me the hose?”

Frankie grabbed the hose and handed it to you, smiling as Red gave him a very betrayed look. “Sorry buddy,” he said, kneeling down. “But you smell.”

You gasped overdramatically. “No!” You said, smiling. “He smells just fine!”

Frankie laughed. “Mhm. Sure he does.”

Getting Red wet wasn’t hard. Between the pool and the hose, he was soaked in minutes. However, Frankie had to shed his shoes and join you in the pool because Red wouldn’t sit still. Now, with Red soaked and both of you getting sore, you reached to grab the soap and immediately got a face full of water as Red shook violently.

“Red!” You gasped, looking down at yourself. You’d been a bit damp from your previous dogs, but this wasn’t just a bit wet. Water raced down your arms and legs, and you completely abandoned your ball cap, sighing. “Gonna have to wash that.”

Frankie mirrored your action, tossing his hat beside yours. “Yeah. He’s prone to shaking. Sorry.” His face was just as wet as yours, water dripping off his chin and cheeks.

You shrugged, putting soap in your hands and throwing your leg over Red’s back again. “It’s fine,” you said, starting to lather the soap into Red’s fur. “Oboe’s got all that long fur, and when she shakes, it’s hell.”

Frankie nodded. “Where’d you even find her?”

“A breeder,” you said, scratching Red’s shoulder and laughing as he began to kick. “Breeder was a good friend of mine, and she had a puppy who no one wanted because she was the runt. I had just moved here, and said screw it, I’ll take her. They named her Oberon. All the puppies in that litter had Midsummer names.”

“She’s a runt?” Frankie looked at Oboe, surprised.

You nodded. “She was,” you said. “She’s actually still on the small side for her breed.” Red squirmed out of your soapy grip, but Frankie caught him before he could make a getaway. You smiled and picked up the hose. “Red, stop squirming.”

Red didn’t listen. He continued to wriggle, now trying to bite the hose water. You used one hand to clear the soap from Red’s fur, grinning as he kissed your chin when you bent down.

“So, how’d you end up with Red?” You asked, looking up briefly at Frankie.

“Oh.” He was quiet for a second. “I was in the military, and we lost a good man on a mission not too long ago. Red was his dog.”

You paused in your actions. “I’m so sorry.”

Frankie shrugged halfheartedly, still crouched in the water. “It took a while, but we recovered.”

Red gave you no time to feel much regret about your words. Instead, he tried to bite you as you washed his paws, and you gave him a light bop on the nose. Not enough to hurt him in any way, but enough to warn him. He didn’t try again, thankfully.

Once Red’s front paws were clean, you turned around and started to wash Red’s back half. Oboe had joined the fray, licking moisture out of Frankie’s shirt. He didn’t seem to mind much as he held Red’s face and kept him from going anywhere. As you scratched your nails over Red’s butt, he began to wiggle harder, one leg coming up and then the other.

“He’s dancing!” You said joyfully, continuing to scratch. Frankie laughed, watching Red kick.

Finishing your job only took a few more minutes, and then you were drying Red off and strapping him into his harness again. He kissed you anytime you came close to his face, and you laughed when his entire back half wiggled when he tried to wag his tail.

“Alright,” you said, finally done. “He’s as clean as he’s gonna get!”

“It’ll last all of ten minutes,” Frankie promised, picking his hat up but not putting it on. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’m here every weekend to play with Oboe. We haven’t got a huge backyard, and she likes to run.”

Frankie smiled. “Maybe we’ll have to come play with you and Oboe one weekend.”

“I think we’d both like that.”

Frankie left after that, and you watched him herd Red into his truck. He waved as he drove off, and you waved back.

“Alright Oboe,” you said, turning back to your dog, who was chewing absently on the brim of your hat. “Hey!”

You pulled the hat from her mouth and immediately felt your stomach flip. This wasn’t your hat. The oil company logo was faded and unfamiliar, and you looked around. Frankie’s truck was nowhere to be seen. He probably hadn’t even noticed he’d left with your hat instead of his.

After an hour, the sun got to be too much, and you relented, putting Frankie’s hat on your head. You had to adjust it so it would fit, but it did a decent job of keeping the sun off your face.

When you finally ended up home, you hung the hat up and let Oboe loose in the house. She immediately curled up in her bed, and you slowly made yourself dinner. You were halfway through chopping some vegetables when your phone rang.

“Hello?” You wedged the phone between your shoulder and ear.

“Hey.”

You smiled. “Frankie!”

Frankie chuckled. “I think you have something of mine.”

“I could say the same about you,” you said, glancing at the hat on your coat hook by the door.

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Frankie said. “Glad you wrote your number in it though.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot I did that,” you admitted, dumping the vegetables into a bowl. “Oboe and I are going to go back to the community space tomorrow to watch the neighborhood soccer team play. Wanna come with?”

Frankie was quiet for a second, and you could hear shuffling. When he spoke again, he sounded strained. “Yeah. Sorry, Red had my shoe.”

You laughed. “Tell that rascal he needs to be nice to his daddy!”

Red barked in the background, and you smiled. “Anyway, tomorrow. The team plays at noon, but I’m always there at eleven to help set up.”

“I can be there at noon,” Frankie said. “I won’t bring Red though. He’s spending the day with his uncles.”

You leaned against your counter and tried to wipe your grin off your face. “It’ll just be the two of us. And Oboe.”

Oboe looked up when you said her name, but quickly went right back to sleep.

“That works,” Frankie promised. “This almost sounds like a date.”

You tried to cover your nervousness. “Maybe it is a date.”

Frankie had a grin in his voice when he spoke again. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”

“Same here.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be seeing you. Don’t forget my hat.”

“Don’t forget mine,” Frankie replied. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, hanging up and looking at Oboe. “Oboe. I think I’m in love.”

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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mrvdocks · 3 years

Text

Plus One Finale

Summary: You and Steve make up. Steve plans for the future ahead.

A/N: We finally made it to the end, thanks to everyone who read it and liked it and reblogged it. :))

@mochminnie, @80strashbag, @artsymaddie, @har-rison-s, @theblueslytherin, @prettysbliss, @deliberatequeen, @fl0ating, @crystalyn-aurelia, @itsbabybat, @bellasymph, @hawishima, @hvtelcalifornia, @stevexharringtonx, @fisherbrookphotos, @revangeline

He paced back and forth in the hallway of the animal clinic, somehow both muttering to himself and racking his head for some way to reply other than the incredulous reaction he just gave you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. You knew it, you knew it was too soon to say.

You cross your legs in an attempt to stop the distracting bouncing of your leg and ease your nerves.

Sure he just confessed he loved you and apologized, but now that you could possibly be pregnant? What if that was the dealbreaker?

“Steve.” You call, attempting to break him from his trance.

He mutters more, going much too fast for you to understand.

“Steve!” You exclaim, unable to take the suspense.

He stops and turns to face you, visibly shaken. You exhale shakily, trying to keep yourself steady emotionally.

“Listen, if what you said earlier is true, then this is nothing.”

“This is nothing? (Y/N) we’re bringing someone else into our messed up lives. What if we’re terrible parents?”

You stand and take his worrisome hand in yours, “So we don’t have the best model. That’s fine! They’re not the ones raising this kid, it’s us. It’s you and me.”

He bites his lip in thought, eyes falling to his feet. You felt your heart race as you tried to decipher his emotions. You loved Steve, kid or no kid. But this was something you two needed to face.

“I don’t know. I - ” he shrugs.

You try not to remember the last time he shrugged and what followed.

“You and I don’t need to make a decision so quickly. We can sleep on it. Alright?” You try to be comforting, smoothing out the lines on his disheveled shirt.

He seems to relax at this and nods. You nod in conclusion.

“I’ll be back.” He says, letting go of your hands and walking down the dimly lit corridor.

“Where are you going?”

He won’t leave you, right?

“I have to do something. I’ll see you back home.”

He leaves in a rush. It hit you then. Home. You were dreading returning to the apartment all this time because you were afraid of the confrontation.

You had planned on coming back sure, maybe yell at him or take Mickey as you’d promised, but the thought of having to confront his issues and your own made your stomach do somersaults. And not in the good way.

But it seemed to turn out fine. You sighed.

You and Steve barely got by as it is. Robin’s leave put more strain on both of you to come up with rent money. Neither you nor Steve were too content in your career choices, and God knows the place would get cramped with a kid.

It was hard to be an optimist in these trying times but you tried to hold out hope. Maybe things would get better. After all, you had new friends, you’d made new connections. Who knows where that would take you.

You wondered what your sister would say. For once, you valued her input in this.

Honestly, the thought of the future from this point on made your heart race.

Steve was capable of growth…..right?

Once Mickey was cleared to go home, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. Things felt a lot lighter, it was a weight off of your shoulders. Though a tiny pebble by the name of Steve remained.

You carried your dozed pet out in your arms in the early hours of the morning, choosing to walk it home and avoid another Danny encounter.

It was a chilly week in November. The crunch of the leaves under your feet wasn’t enough to rouse Mickey awake but you kept count of how many you stepped on.

You don’t recall how long it took you to get home. It was most likely the autopilot in you flipping on, your head just too worried about other things at the moment.

You just know you’d made it home without a scratch. You kick away the pile of mail at the foot of your doorstep and take the extra key under the mat. Once you’re inside, the warmth of the radiator kicks in, letting your body relax after the tensing up of your muscles to keep warm outside.

You lay Mickey down in his makeshift bed, the foot tub with a mix of yours and Steve’s old shirts. He grumbles in his sleep, his tiny tongue peaking out in lazy and unconscious movement.

You shake off Jonathan’s coat and drape it over your body like a blanket and collapse onto the couch, too lazy to curl up into your own bed.

You shiver as you run your hands over your arms and cup your hands together to blow air into them. The tiredness from walking and overall excitement of the day weighed over you from the way you felt your eyelids start to fall.

You blink once, twice, and then fall asleep just in time to see Mickey kick and stretch his paws in his sleep.

Steve pants as he reaches the door of the room at the hotel his father’s staying at. He’d been too hasty to berate his future stepbrothers once he saw what they’d done to Mickey.

He knocks rapidly on the door, seeming like a madman to the couple who’s just leaving their own room and staring at him. He composes himself, zips his jacket up, and gives a faint nod as they pass him.

His dad opens the door a second later. “Hey kiddo, what’s with the commotion?”

“She’s pregnant.” Steve regurgitates your confession to his father. Don’s mouth falls open slightly.

He closes it and stammers. He turns to check on the kids in the room, seeing them preoccupied with the tv. When the coast is clear, he closes the door behind him and stays with Steve outside in the hallway.

“I - that was fast.” Don chuckles, feeling flustered for his son. “What did you tell her?”

“I ran here to tell you!”

Don’s hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose in disappointment.

“So you’re telling me, the girl of your dreams, the one you’ve been miserable over breaking her heart, just told you she’s pregnant and the first thing you do is leave her and run to me??”

Steve understands the gravity of the situation but he is stuck on the thought that he needed all the advice he could squeeze out of his father.

“Basically.” He says simply.

Don sighs. “What’s the problem, then?”

Steve’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know how to be a dad. In case you haven’t noticed I didn’t have the best model.”

Don nearly rolls his eyes.

“Is that really the reason, or is there another?”

Steve stays silent, contemplating while his eyes scan every inch of the hallway from the detail on the carpeting to the colors.

“I guess….I’m not happy with where I am right now. I’m pushing thirty in two years, I’m a bartender, everyone I know got married and I just feel like I’m out of time. But Dad, this girl. She - she’s everything I’m not. She’s spontaneous and funny and sarcastic and - I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like she could be doing so much better than me.”

Don places a hand on Steve’s shoulder and gently shakes him. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re a Harrington, you’re a catch!”

Steve half smiles at the encouragement.

“Steve, everyone progresses through milestones differently. No one knows what they’re doing. And if we’re being honest, I think you just have to find what you like and hold onto it. Something that makes you want to get out of bed every day and just take all of the bull that life throws at you because, at the end of the day, that something is always going to be there. Have you found something to do that for you?”

Steve nearly dissociates altogether as he falls deep in thought as his father speaks. His mind reeling the montage of memories his brain concocts like film.

He sees you the day you walked into the apartment and into his life, covered in dirty water from being sprayed by a taxi on the curb and taking it in stride and making jokes about it. He sees you dancing in the kitchen to god awful music he’d grown to love in a big shirt and long socks. He sees the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh hysterically at the prospect of trying to help him find dates. The image of you sitting near the radiator with a book in hand and your thinking face.

He thinks these past few months might’ve just been the best ones he’s ever had. Before he went and ruined it.

He didn’t think he would experience something like this after Nancy. He thought he could just run away from Hawkins and leave the bad memories there, but they crept up on him when he least expected it. His fear was not your fault.

He was done running and he was ready to grow.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I think I do.”

The phone ringing off the hook startled you awake. You sit upright, finding Jonathan’s coat at your feet and Mickey pawing at the phone cord. He wriggles his head side to side when he finally gets the cord in between his teeth.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You mutter to yourself. You pick Mickey up with swift ease and pull the cord out of his mouth to pick up the phone.

“I’m up.” You announce somewhat sleepily into the phone.

“Good! I have news!” Nancy’s rapid-fire voice comes through and alerts you awake.

“Wait! I did it, Nance! I told him!”

“Oh, what did he say?”

“He….kind of took off.”

“He what?!”

“Okay to be fair, a lot has happened in the past,” you glance at your wrist to see you’ve been asleep for a while. “Five hours? Geez.”

“Okay, okay. Well, we don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“The tests! They’re faulty! They’re recalling them for false positives or something. I don’t know but Kali just called to tell me.”

“Oh….” You trail off.

In a way, you're very relieved. And yet also a little disappointed. But very relieved.

“What’s wrong?” Nancy senses something’s off. “I figured you’d breathe a little better if you knew the truth.”

“No I am,” you say, cradling Mickey in your arm like a mom with a baby on her hip. “I don’t know, I guess I kind of made my peace with it.”

“Oh, well hey, maybe it’s a good conversation starter for both of you.”

You lean against the wall where the phone hangs, letting your furry son sit on the counter. “Yeah maybe. I mean, it was all too fast anyways.”

“Yeah! You have lots of time. Just take baby steps. I think slow and steady would put yours and his mind at ease.”

You had to agree. Time had to heal all wounds. You two had to start again, without interruptions.

You finish talking to Nancy, reassuring her that you’d need to get over the first wave of shock and tell him when he turned up. She offered to go over but you’d declined. When everything’s over, you collapse onto the couch again, slumping as far as your back would let you. Your stomach protruding a little from under your tee. You roll up the lower half of your shirt and let it sit above your belly button.

You prod your fingers at nothing, feeling odd and a little bit silly at the thought that there would be a little person in there.

Mickey whimpers.

“Looks like you’re the baby still.” You chuckle, scratching behind his ears.

The peace and silence are broken by the door swinging open to reveal an out of breath Steve. You straighten up immediately and pull your shirt down.

“Are you okay?” You ask, making a pass to reach for him but he sticks a hand out for you to wait as he regains his composure.

“I’m….fine…..just have to….talk...holdonaminute.”

He’s visibly sweating, beads of sweat on his forehead. He looks like he just ran track. His pants come to a slow until he’s back to normal. He puts his hands on his knees and it takes everything in you to not make an old joke for the sake of the seriousness of the situation.

He stands up straight, keeping his eyes trained on you, and with a softness in them, you feel at ease.

“I quit my job.” He says finally.

Your eyes widen. “You what?”

The confession hung in the air, settling in like the warmth of the radiator. He rushes to you and kneels before you can leap up off the couch and takes your hands in his.

“Hear me out. Before you get mad, just hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve done a lot and I mean a lot of reassessment about you, me, everything. If we’re going to do this, I want them to be proud of me. I want to be there for them as much as I can be. I’m starting over. At 28.”

You stifle a laugh but release it when Steve takes the initiative to laugh at himself.

“So….what are you going to be doing now?” You give his hands a squeeze, utterly terrified at the plunge he’s taking.

He looks as if he hasn’t planned that far ahead besides quitting. “I….don't know. But it’s, um, kind of cool. I get to see a bunch of different jobs. Find out what I really like.”

“And, what’s that?”

“You.” He smiles, the sight of it sending butterflies free in your stomach. “I like you. So, so much. You’re not hard to get at all, you’re hard to earn. I’d take that over any messy, drunk bridesmaid.”

You tilt your head, feeling the corners of your lips lifting and before you know it, you’re grinning like an idiot.

“And that’s why,” he says, his right hand leaving yours and digging into his pocket to bring out a plastic ring from the bubble gum machines in the laundromat downstairs, “I’m jumping in, all the way.”

“Steve…” You’re nearly speechless. “Oh my god, what are you doing?”

“I know it’s not perfect or big or shiny. But this is just a placeholder for now. I’m all in if you are.” He holds the ring with the pink gem in his fingers, waiting for you.

Maybe it’s the fact that ever since you started to see him in a different light since the start of the year, you’d determined that you’d follow him anywhere. Whether he’d have you or not. Even with his moods and awkwardness and clumsiness. He’d been scored on your heart. You’d marry him with paper rings.

“I’m not pregnant.” You reveal.

His face softens. “What?”

“Nancy called earlier before you came. The tests were faulty. I just wanted you to know that so that wasn’t the only reason you decided to do this.”

It was and wasn’t the reason. But in all honesty, he didn’t think he could bear to stomach the idea of not being with you or the image of you with someone else. He also doesn’t think starting over with someone else was the best idea, you two had been through so much in two years. You shared a particular connection. One that he now realizes he had been looking through seas of beige and silvers and golds.

“It’s not,” he titters, “I don’t care that we don’t have the meet-cutes or the chance run-ins. That’s not what love really is. I thought it was more complex but it’s so - simple. It’s about being comfortable with someone and wanting to hang out with them as long as it’s humanly possible….and just not trying to mess it up the way I did.”

Your heart swells. This is love for him. This is him planting his foot in the sand and not running away when the sea rushes for him. Anyone else would’ve ditched him the moment things got ugly. But you were nothing if devoted.

“Yes, Dingus. I’m in too.” You nod, overjoyed as you feel your eyes get watery.

Don & Mary’s Wedding

December 25, 1994

Hawkins, Indiana

“Okay, okay, how does this look?” Steve asks, fixing his tux for the fifth time that day.

You roll your eyes. “You look fine babe, honestly. We’ve ironed the jacket out twice. Any more and I think you’re going to set it on fire and then you’ll upstage the bride.”

Steve snorts, fixing the knot on his tie. “I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous. I can’t mess up the speech.”

You fix the starchy collar of his shirt. “I’ve heard it many times and I think you’ll do great. Just don’t think too much about it.”

“You don’t think it’s too late to back out?”

“I think,” You pull him by his tie close to your face to tease him. “If you can get through this, you can either have the best after-party experience or you can get the new fridge.”

Steve purses his lips, conflicted. “We do need a new fridge.”

You playfully smack his arm as you feign offense.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He repeats, enveloping you in a hug.

“Whoa, whoa, easy on the goods.” You say, smoothing out the easily crinkled fabric of your dress.

“I’m always easy on them.” He jests, slipping in innuendo that you still find yourself blushing to.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go before they start guessing why we’re late.”

You climb onto his back and ride him piggyback all the way to the elevator. He goes over his speech one more time as you descend and tries to tell a joke at the end that doesn’t stick the landing.

You arrive just in time, settling at the table next to the newlyweds. You pat Steve on the shoulder, give him a glass, and wish him good luck. “Go get ‘em.”

He kisses you tenderly before he goes up on stage, feeling like a teen again the way his senses go crazy when he kisses you. He fumbles his way up the stairs to the microphone making you hold back a laugh. He composes himself a second later.

“Hey everyone! Thanks for coming. I’m Steve. Most of you know me as Don’s son. And if you’re wondering why I’m up here giving his best man speech, so am I.”

The crowd of family and friends laugh in unison.

Steve fixes his footing and his grip on the champagne glass tightens.

“The truth is, I put up a pretty big stink about all of this. I didn’t want to do it. To me, a second marriage was ill-advised. I mean, my parents’ divorce was pretty hard to swallow. But also, I just didn’t get it. I believed in things like fate and love at first sight, that once you found the one, that was the ballgame.”

He scans the crowd, passing familiar faces like Jonathan and Nancy, Dustin and Suzie, Robin and Kali, each one helping take the pressure off just a bit. He stops when he lands on you, your warm smile and thumbs up making him feel better.

“But the truth is, if you spend your whole life looking for something perfect, you wind up with nothing. See, there are many innings in this ball game and I don’t think it's about good timing or fate. It’s about trying not to mess up.”

He locks eyes with you for the last part.

“But you will mess up. No matter how hard you try, you’ll get in your own head. But if you can learn from your mistakes, you might just end up with something...even better.”

“I’d like to raise a glass,” He says, raising his cup along with everyone else. “Dad, Mary, congratulations.”

The guests applaud as Don is overcome with emotion and wipes at his happy tears and takes his son in a bear hug. Steve is taken aback by the sudden strength of his father and nearly drops his glass.

The party goes off without a hitch. Steve actually partakes in the festivities with pride and even makes an attempt to get to know his stepbrothers. He laughs at their awful attempts at jokes and bestows some girl advice when they ask him about you. Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Kali, Dustin and Suzie all congratulate Steve when they find out what the pink stone on your finger means. You meet Steve’s mom for the first time, a charming and lovely woman who is eager to show you loose baby pictures in her clutch and embarrassing stories.

You wait on the sidelines watching as the new Harrington family take their family photos. Mary and Steve talk in what seems to be a sincere and sweet conversation. Don is trying to bribe the rambunctious kids with sweets if they can sit still for the photo. Jonathan glances from them to you.

“Hey,” He asks from behind the camera. “Why aren’t you in there?”

You open your mouth to justify it until Don speaks up.

“He’s right. What are you doing there? Come in! Come in!” He waves you over with encouragement until the entire Harrington gang begins to beg for you to jump in.

“Come in sweetie!” Mary cheers.

You’re about to make your way until Steve leaves the group and carries you over his shoulder. Jonathan smirks as he takes multiple photos, taking advantage of the candid moment. Steve’s stepbrothers singsong about you two kissing in a tree. The Harrington party make a mixture of sounds and cheers as Steve puts you down and wraps his arms around you in a prom pose. You go with it, feeling like you belonged in this crazy puzzle with other people. The little kids make a disgusted sound when you peck Steve on the cheek.

He kisses the top of your head in return and gives you a squeeze.

For the first time in his life, Steve’s not afraid of the future.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #aaaaannndd fin

124 notes · View notes

ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Do Re Mi

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: After breaking things off with Kelce, he wants you back after finding out you’ve been hanging out more with JJ....

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @drewswannabegirl @teamnick @jiaraendgame @agirlwholovescoffee @outerbongs @jaxandcomet @velyssaraptor @baby-pogue @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92 @kaitieskidmore1 @ma10427 @ifilwtmfc @lasnaro @justcallmesams @judayyyw @lonely-kermit @gviosca @iamaunicorn4704 @jellyfishbeansontoast @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @eb15 @hurricane-abigail @tangledinsparkles

Note: This is for the lovely @maybebanks , thank you for giving me an amazing request so that I could use this gif(look at those biceps)! I hope this was ok! As always let me know what you guys think, and don’t forget to check out my new Rudy Pankow series here!

PSA IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ABUSE DO NOT READ THIS!

=====================================

What Kelce and I had from the beginning was toxic...

I was too blind to see how manipulative and abusive he was. The constant threats of leaving me, cheating on me, and of course me begging him not to. I fell into his trap. He would fill my head with negative thoughts, doing anything and everything to make me feel horrid about myself. All of my friends could notice the change in me, saying how I looked mentally drained all the time.

Well, they weren’t wrong.....

======================================

“You’re such a fucking slut! Hanging out with those Pogues?! Really y/n?!” he shouted.

“They’re my friends! I don’t give a shit about your stupid rivalry against them K, they are good people!” I shouted back, running a hand through my hair.

“Trash derseves to hang out with a slut like you then. You’ll fit right in.” he snarled.

“I’m so done with your bullshit Kelce! Fuck you!” I screamed, storming out of his house.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” he yelled, coming after me.

“I can’t take this anymore, I’ve been done for a long time now! You and your constant mental and physical abuse, I will not let you hurt me anymore!” I screeched, slamming my car door shut.

He banged on my window, demanding I open the door. He pulled as hard as he could on my door handle, no doubt almost breaking it. I sped off, going to the only place I knew I could find comfort.

=====================================

I pulled into the chateau, tears still streaming down my face. A sob wretched from my chest, my head falling to the steering wheel as I cried. It was pouring the rain as I got out of my car, slowly treading to the front door. My chest felt like it was caving in from how hard I was sobbing, my whole body convulsing inwards. The door opened and I saw a familiar looking blonde coming on the porch. His eyes widened, taking off to me. I ran into his arms, colliding with him.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” JJ asked, pulling back to look at my face.

“I couldn’t take him anymore JJ, I had to leave.” I sobbed, clinging on to his shirt. He pulled my head back to his chest, leaning his head on top of mine.

“I won’t let him hurt you ever again y/n, you’re safe now.” he said softly, his fingers combing through my soaked hair.

“I’m so sorry J,” I blubbered.

“What are you sorry for?” he chuckled.

“That they hurt you, and the others. They always hurt you.” I cried, thinking back to the times I had seen Kelce and the others beat JJ to a pulp.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle sweetheart, I know you did everything you could.” he whispered, kissing my hair.

“I should have done more...I should have left a long time ago.” I mumbled.

“Hey why don’t you guys come in before you get sick!” Pope yelled, both of us laughing.

JJ led me inside, John B. bringing both of us towels to dry off. I left my shoes on the porch, starting to shiver from the slight chill in the air. I was glad I had left some of my stuff here so I could change into some comfier clothes. John B. was kind enough to let me take a warm shower, even threw my clothes in his beat up washing machine. The boys hovered over me in their protective fashion. JJ made me a sandwich, arguing with Pope about what goes on the bread first, and John B. got me every blanket he owned as I sat on the pull out bed.

“The cheese is supposed to go on the bread first JJ.” Pope insisted, hovering over JJ’s shoulder.

“Dude can you please just let me make her the fucking sandwich for god’s sake!” JJ shouted, chuckling as he slapped it together and threw it on a plate.

JJ brought me my favorite sandwich with the chips I left here, and of course a beer. I smiled widely at my best friend. He sat in front of me while the other boys sat on the opposite sides.

“What happened?” JJ demanded, Pope and John B. tuning in.

“We were just fighting, I honestly don’t even remember how it started...Then we got to talking about how he doesn’t like me hanging out with you guys, and I told him that you all were my friends and that I didn’t care what he said. He said some other mean stuff and then I just left.” I recalled, my eyes staying down as I ate.

“What mean stuff?” JJ inquired, raising a brow. I looked up at him, then to JB and Pope.

“Pope, let’s go get Kie and Sarah. I think y/n needs some girl talk.” John B. said, patting my shoulder.

“What did he say?” JJ demanded, his hard eyes staring intently.

“He...he called me a slut and said that I would fit in with you all since Pogues are trash.” I croaked, feeling the tears begin to rise again.

JJ let out an angry huff, throwing his hat off.

“I should kill that motherfucker.” he griped.

“He’s not worth it J. I wish I would have learned that a long time ago.” I sighed, setting my finished food to the side with my beer.

JJ came beside me, his arm falling around my waist. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cause my heart to flutter. Since things with Kelce and I started declining, I had began to develop feelings for JJ. Both of us coming from similar home lives made our bond stronger. When I started dating Kelce, I thought I’d finally get away from the bad things that haunted me from my home. Turns out I ran into another abusive situation, but I always had JJ. He was my constant light that I needed when things went dark. I knew I could trust him with my life.

“You’re my best friend y/n, and I’ll be dammed if I ever let that fucker hurt you again. If you even think about going back to him I will drag your ass back here and chain you to this couch, you hear me?” he affirmed, his blue eyes burning with rage.

“Trust me that won’t happen, I’m done with him. You’re the best J.” I said softly, hugging him.

JJ squeezed me tight to him, silent tears flowing down my face again. I was so lucky to have friends like the Pogues, all of them had hearts of gold. I pulled back, smiling as I wiped some of my tears. JJ’s thumb came up to my other eye, gently wiping some away as well. We stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, a sudden change in the air. Both of us unconsciously moving our heads closer together.

Then the door slammed open, causing us to jump apart from each other.

“We brought movies!” Kie said cheerfully.

“And chocolate!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Yeah, too much chocolate.” John B. groaned as he and Pope lugged in some grocery bags.

I got up to hug my two girl best friends, all of us grouping together. They rubbed my back as I again started to cry, this time very loudly. Then I felt even more surrounded as the guys joined in our group hug.

We baked, and watched comedy movies all night. I laughed until my belly hurt, the pure joy of being with my friends making my sadness go away even if it only would be for a moment. The sun was beginning to rise as we all fell asleep out in the living room. John B. and Sarah sharing a small air mattress that Sarah had brought, Pope got up to crash on the outside couch, Kie fell asleep in the floor, and JJ and I shared the pull out couch.

=========================================

After that night, JJ and I had become a lot closer. We began spending a lot more time together, even doing odd jobs together. Weeks had gone by and people of The Cut and in Figure Eight began discovering that where JJ was I would be found and vice versa. Word got to Kelce that I looked cozy with JJ, and he was not happy.

I was home alone, my dad was with JJ’s at Barry’s. A loud banging heard on my door. I crept to it, peeking out of the window to see Kelce. I dreaded opening the door, debating on just letting him sit out there.

“Y/N! Open the fucking door right now!” he barked, his fist coming down on the door again. I waited another second, seeing if maybe he would go away. He barged in, my eyes wide at how angry he looked.

“Kelce,” I gasped.

“Who the fuck do you think you are embarrassing me by being seen with Maybank!” he sneered, coming closer to me. I backed away, cutting around my house so I couldn’t be cornered.

“It’s none of your business who I’m with Kelce, we aren’t dating anymore!” I shouted.

“We had a fight y/n, we’re not over until I say we are.” he claimed, snatching my wrist. I tried to wretch my hand away, but he was too strong.

“I told you I was done! I don’t want to be with you ever again!” I screeched. I felt pain on the side of my cheek as Kelce slapped me, falling to the ground.

“You listen to me you little bitch. I don’t ever want you hanging with that piece of trash ever again, is that clear?” he hissed, using his hold on my wrist to yank me up.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

In the next second, I was being pinned against the wall. Kelce’s hand grabbing my throat as he slammed me into the hard wood. He squeezed my pulse point, my breathing halted. I scratched at his hand as he lifted me higher, my air supply being cut off even more. My vision started to become hazy, black spots appearing in my eyes. I kicked my legs as hard as I could until they connected with something. Kelce dropped me to the ground, air whooshing back into my lungs. He looked at me with hard, angry eyes. As if I was the one in the wrong.

“This isn’t over,” he sneered, storming out of my house.

I coughed and gagged until I finally started to breathe normally again. I crawled to my room, dragging myself on to my bed. I curled up in my covers and sobbed. I wished so hard that I had never been stupid enough to date a Kook. I realized now that I was desperate to get away from my dad, snatching any opportunity to get out of this hellhole. I cried myself to sleep that night, not even harvesting enough energy to call JJ. He was all I wanted right now, but I couldn’t move....everything hurt.

===================================

The next day, I got a text from JJ saying everyone wanted to hang out. I groaned, hauling myself out of bed. My eyes almost bulged out of my head at the sight of the deep bruises on my neck. How was I supposed to keep this from them? From JJ? I couldn’t tell them, JJ more than likely would end up in real jail this time if he went after Kelce.

I did my best to cover it up, even opting for one of JJ’s hoodies I stole that covered more of my neck. My cheek thankfully didn’t look as bad and I was able to cover it completely. I heard JJ’s bike pull up, nerves creeping in my chest as I went outside. He smiled when he saw me, and it was like all my worries melted away. He opened his arms when I got closer, pulling me into a hug. I inhaled his scent...smoke, weed, and an earthy tone that was just JJ. His scent calmed my raging nerves. I jumped on the back of his bike, holding on to him as we sped off to the chateau.

==================================

I was doing a good job of hiding until I stupidly pulled my hair to one side.

“What’s on your neck?” Pope asked, inspecting me as I flinched from his prodding fingers.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, flipping my hair back over. JJ’s eyes narrowed at me, my heart sinking.

“Ooohh, did you get some last night y/n?” Kie raised her brows suggestively.

“No,” I scoffed, my cheeks reddening.

“You so did! Spill!” Sarah squealed.

“Yeah y/n, spill.” JJ clipped, his arms crossing his chest.

“I didn’t get any guys, swear.” I insisted, my eyes mainly on JJ. He nodded, but he didn’t look like he believed me.

“Then what is that?” John B. asked, joining in on the interrogation.

“I tripped getting out of the shower last night,” I said, unconvincingly by the accusing look JJ was still giving me. He stormed back into the chateau, of couse I followed after him.

“JJ please, I-” I started.

“No, you-....I thought-I, I thought we had something building here. Guess I was wrong, I mean how could I ever think you would go from a Kook to me. I feel so stupid!” he ranted, throwing his hat on the ground. He sat on the couch, elbows going to his knees.

“JJ please believe me, it’s not what you think!” I pleaded.

“Then what is it y/n! Because I know damn well that ain’t from falling, you can’t get bruises like that from a fall.” he fumed.

“JJ I did fall!” I exclaimed, partially telling the truth.

“I’ve wanted you, for so long now....and I thought I finally had you. Then you go back to Kelce, after everything he did.” he said in disbelief.

“Stop JJ please!” I yelled, choking as I felt tears come to the surface.

“Guess trash like me doesn’t deserve a girl like you huh y/n?” he questioned mockingly.

“He hit me!” I screamed, both of us freezing.

“What?” JJ asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Last night, Kelce came over...he found out about us being together more. Let’s just say he didn’t like it.” I stated, marching to my bag. I yanked out a makeup wipe, dragging it over the sensitive skin.

“Oh-my-god,” JJ whispered.

“So yeah, I didn’t fall. He slammed me against the wall and choked me after smacking me for telling him to fuck off.” I sniffed.

We were both silent after that, I stared at the floor. I could feel his gaze burning into my skin, analyzing every detail. He got up suddenly, throwing his hat on. JJ marched out the door, a look of pure rage in his eyes. I ran after him, knowing exactly what was in his mind.

“JJ!” I shouted.

“That motherfucker has some nerve,” JJ raged, the other getting up to see what was going on.

“JJ please don’t go!” I cried, reaching to grab his arm.

“Oh no, no. The Kooks are not getting away with it this time, not after laying a hand on my girl.” he stated, shaking free of my hold.

I was too worried at the moment to think about what he had said, everyone looking between us confused.

“What the hell is going on?” John B. asked.

“Dude her neck, Kelce did that.” JJ said, pointing at the now very prominent bruises. The others gasped, staring in horror.

JJ didn’t wait for anyone as he jumped in the van, all of us following after him.

================================

We arrived at the Boneyard, I knew Kelce would be here more than likely with Rafe and Topper. JJ stormed out of the van, walking quickly to find them. My heart dropped when we spotted them, JJ stalking over to where they were. I raced after him, the others following behind me.

“Well if it isn’t the happy couple everyone has been talking about.” Kelce taunted, a smug grin on his face.

“You piece of shit!” JJ yelled, punching Kelce in the face.

“JJ!” I gasped, Kie grabbing my arm before I could go to him.

“You-no-good-motherfucker! You dare lay a hand on my girl!” JJ sneered between punches.

“She’ll never be yours Maybank, I always win.” Kelce laughed as blood spewed from his nose.

“If I see you within 100 feet of her, I’ll kill you.” JJ said darkly.

“That slut will never be satisfied.” Kelce said, igniting another surge from JJ as he hit Kelce again and again.

“You abused her asshole, what kind of man treats a woman like that?” JJ scoffed.

“She asked for it.” Kelce said, throwing me an accusing look. JJ wrapped his hands around his throat, John B. and Pope jumping in to pull JJ off.

“If you EVER come near her again, I’ll fucking kill you!” JJ screamed as the boys dragged him away.

==================================

Once we got to the chateau, everyone headed inside except JJ and I. He pulled me into a hug, his head going into the crook of my neck. He kissed the skin there, tingles shooting through me.

“So I’m your girl now?” I teased, smiling as JJ chuckled.

“Hell yeah,” he said, pulling his head back to look at me.

“Thank you for everything J,” I said softly, my hand going to caress his cheek.

“Anything for you sweetheart.” he whispered, his forehead coming to rest on mine.

I got on my toes and kissed him, grasping on to him tighter. His hand went to the back of my head, holding me there as our lips moved. I felt as if I were on top of the world, JJ pulled me closer as we fell deeper into the kiss. I pulled away when I felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen, our chests both rising erratically. We were both smiling like idiots, basking in the after glow of doing what we both wanted for so long.

That night, I fell asleep cuddled next to JJ...the boy who I had longed for and was finally mine.

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sgtbradfords · 3 years

Note

Chenford + “Hey, take a breath. Here, hold my hand.”

Thanks for the prompt anon! I hope you’re ok with an AU because that’s what my muse produced. Enjoy and Happy Friday!

Tim Bradford sat on a tattered barstool in front of a bar, taking small sips of the amber liquor that occupied the glass in his right hand. He couldn’t believe her. No, scratch that. He could believe her, but chose to ignore that small fact.

“What do you want?” He grumbled, his focus staying on the rows of multicolored bottles behind the bar.

“Now Tim, is that anyway to treat a friend?” She smiled, sitting down at the counter next to him.

Tim grunted, holding the glass against his lips. “I’m not your friend.”

“Is that anyway to treat your wife then?”

He roughly sat the drinking glass down onto the mahogany wood, turning his body towards her. “We’re not married.”

“Maybe not legally, but you have to admit that trip to Barbados was fun.” She gleamed.

“Fun? We almost became shark bait.”

“Keyword being almost Tim.”

Tim sighed. “Why are you here Lucy?”

Lucy pouted. “Can I not have a drink with a friend?”

“We’re not fr-“

“We’re friends Tim. Whether you like it or not.”

Tim turned his head. “Give me one reason as to why shouldn’t I arrest you right now?”

Lucy bit her lip, placing her right hand onto his left arm. “Because that’s not part of our deal and you know it.”

Tim shook his head, turning his focus back to the rows and shelves of bottles behind the bar. “What have you heard?”

“Not here.” She smiled, shaking her head. “What’d you say we get out of here?”

Tim tossed back the rest of the whiskey, sitting the empty glass on the counter as he stood.

Twenty minutes later, Lucy was leading Tim through a penthouse apartment.

“I’m not even going to ask how you’re affording this.” He sighed, kicking his shoes off by the door.

Lucy shrugged. “I’m one of the best thieves in the business Tim.”

“Used to be.” He told her as he made his way to the kitchen. “You used to be one of the best thieves Lucy.”

Lucy followed his retreating form. “Semantics.” She told him, offhandedly waving as she leaned against the wall separating the two rooms.

Tim grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, twisting the cap off before taking a long drag of the cold liquid.

“Are you going to tell me the plan Chen? Or are you just going to stare at me?”

Lucy felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught before she jumped, moving to sit up onto the marble countertop. “How do you feel about Dexter?”

Tim set the plastic bottle down on the other side of the countertop, staring at his partner before he leaned forward against the chilled marble.

“The TV show?”

“No,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “Maine.”

“Can’t say that I have visited there recently. What have you heard?”

“Word is that the artifacts that were stolen from a museum in Madrid last week, are about to be sold, amongst other things.”

Tim ran a hand down his face. “Ok, stolen artifacts from Spain. What are they doing in the States?”

Lucy shrugged. “Not sure yet but, I do know that there are some major players involved. Cole Midas, Nick Armstrong, Rosalind Dyer.”

“Fuck.” He cursed, propping his hands on the countertop. “Have you notified Grey?”

She shook her head. “He vaguely knows the details, but he also said not to tell him if we were fixing to do something illegal.”

Tim chuckled, lifting off his top half off the counter as he moved to the living room, stopping in front of the panoramic windows that overlooked the city below.

The view from the top of the high rise was breathtaking. Views of the Pacific Ocean and vast rolling hills could be seen off in the distance, other skyscrapers and smaller occupied buildings on every corner. The glow of headlights and taillights lighting up the darker corners of the City of Angels. The sound of sirens could be heard as they echoed down the streets and up the sides of the buildings around them.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She softly spoke from behind him.

“We are not going to have a repeat of last time Luce.” He whispered into the night.

“Hey, what happened last time-“ Lucy told him as she took a step forward, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, the touch causing Tim to release a sigh.

“Was my fault.” He finished for her. “You almost- I watched you die Lucy.”

“That was not your fault Tim Bradford, and you know it. What he did- I’m alive because of you.”

“I can’t-“ He hesitated, the words catching in his throat as he looked down at the world moving around them. “I can’t lose you again.”

Lucy could feel her heart break at the emotion in his uttered confession.

“Here,” She told him as she removed her hand from his shoulder. “Take my hand.”

Tim turned slowly, making no move to reach for her hand, causing Lucy to take matters into her own hands, reaching for his. She grasped his hand in hers, his calloused skin a stark contrast to the softness of hers.

“I’m alive Tim.” She sighed as she gently squeezed his hand with hers. “And you know that doing the job that we do, we have to take risks. You knew this when you swore an oath and put on that badge, long before you were tasked with capturing me.”

He shook his head. “These risks, are they worth it?”

Lucy looked up. “You know it is, if it means that I am not locked up in a federal prison or extradited to another country, it’s always worth it.”

Tim’s other hand moved on its own accord, his calloused fingers brushing against her skin as he pushed the strands of hair that had fallen back behind her ear.

“You know I won’t let that happen.”

She smiled at the truth in his words. She knew he wouldn’t. “I know. Now Grey on the other hand…”

“I’ll handle Wade.”

Lucy couldn’t hold back the snicker, letting go of his hand as she stepped back. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“Have you talked to the team?” Tim asked, walking away from the window, moving to sit down on the couch.

“Nyla is picking us up in the morning, the rest are on their way to the safehouse.”

Tim sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head onto the back of the cushion, time passing as Lucy sat adjacent to the couch in the navy armchair.

“Lucy?” Tim’s gravely spoke after letting his body conform to the plush couch cushion.

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t your penthouse, is it.” He stated, already knowing the answer as he continued to keep his eyes closed.

Lucy chuckled, the only answer he needed as he opened his eyes, his body now tense as he stood up from his relaxed state.

“We’ve talked about this Chen.” He said exasperatedly, running a tired hand down his face as he turned towards her. “You can’t just find something you like and claim it as your own.”

“You going to arrest me?”

Tim cut his eyes at her, just as the faint ding of the elevator arriving to the floor, in the hall sounded.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Lucy looked at Tim panicked. “They weren’t supposed to return until this weekend.”

‘’Yeah well, our lives are just full of surprises.” He told her as he ran across the room, slipping his shoes back onto his feet. “Don’t just there on your ass Lucy!”

She stood quickly, spotting a clear box built into the outside wall that was lit up by the lights of the city below. “Get outside.” She whispered loudly as she pulled the balcony door open, stepping onto the concrete platform, rushing over to the wall.

Tim ran after her, jerking the small glass door open as he pulled the fire ladder out, heaving it over the railing as the ladder extended into the night, landing two balconies below.

“We better hope no one’s at home or we’re going to have a hard time explaining this one.” He told her as he tossed a leg over onto the metal rung, followed by the other leg.

“Later Bradford. Now move!” She chastised as she followed. “And don’t you dare look up!”

“It’s dark out Chen, not a whole lot to be seen!” He said as he focused on moving down to the next step below. “Why are you wearing a skirt anyways? You never wear skirts.”

“Are you looking up?” She lowly asked. “Don’t look!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “It’s not anything I’ve not seen before Luce.”

His footing quickly found solid concrete as he planted them on the balcony, keeping both hands on the sides of the ladder, attempting to hold it steady.

“Different circumstances Tim.” She told him as the soles of her shoes touched the concrete. Lucy turned, opening the apartments sliding door.

“Why is it not locked?” He asked.

“We’re almost six hundred feet off the ground, why would you lock your door?”

He sighed as they walked through the seemingly vacant apartment. “Because someone-“

“It’s time turn your training off Tim, join the dark side.”

Tim stopped, pulling open the front door, ushering her through as he locked the door behind them, pulling it close.

“The last time you said that we were thrown out of a plane at twenty thousand feet by those Cubans. Mind you, with a half-assed parachute.”

Lucy pressed the button on the wall for the elevator, the arrow above showing the cart slowly coming down.

“You got us down.”

Tim turned, staring her down. “When do we have to be at the airfield?”

“0700. Harper said something about a bumpy ride so I hope you pack your Dramamine.”

“As long it’s not that damn Stratotanker again, I’ll be fine.” He grumbled as the elevator hit the ground floor, the doors opening.

“I’ll see you in the morning at the airfield, I’ve got a few things that I need to wrap up here.” Lucy told him as they walked across the lobby. “And you might want to call Wesley, have him wipe the security tapes.”

Tim shook his head. “No more breaking into houses.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” she smirked.

“You better not be late.”

Lucy turned, walking into the night but not before getting in the last word. “And have you condition my ass again? Never.”

Twelve hours later, Tim found himself 33,000 feet off the ground, his body strapped into the uncomfortable harness of a C-130.

“You good?” Lucy asked as she walked back from the cockpit, sitting down next to Tim as she began strapping herself back in to the seat.

“For the third time Lucy, I’m fine.” He sighed, finding the familiar rocking motion of the military aircraft more comforting than sickening.

“Nyla said we’re about twenty minutes from landing. I tried getting the pilot, his name is James by the way, to tell me how Nyla was able to convince him to smuggle us on, but he wouldn’t budge.” Lucy told him as the corners of Tim’s lips threatened to turn. “I’m pretty sure their sleeping together.”

Soon the wheels of the aircraft touched the ground once again, landing at a military base in Vermont before they picked up the government issued vehicle that was left for them, making the six-hour drive to Maine.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Nyla asked from her seat in the back of the sedan as they made their way northeast on the interstate.

Tim scoffed. “I know how to punch in the address into the GPS Harper. Or would you rather stop and ask for directions every hour?”

Lucy rested her head on the windshield of the passenger door, smiling as the backseat driver chose to keep her critiques to herself for the remainder of the ride.

The ample afternoon sunshine, quickly turned into dusk as Tim steered the vehicle onto a flat gravel road, the rocks under the tires paving the way before coming to a stop in front of an elegant two-story lake house.

“How are you two affording this?” Nyla asked as she stepped out of the car, her boots crunching the rocks under her feet. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

“Plausible deniability?”

“Yep.” She told them as she grabbed her duffle from the open trunk. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Angela and Wesley, so yell before you enter.”

Nyla sighed, grumbling about newlyweds under her breath as she walked towards the house.

Tim pulled out another duffle, handing it over to Lucy before grabbing her luggage, extending the handle before grabbing his own, sitting it on top of hers.

“What the fuck do you have in here Lucy?” He asked as he pulled the suitcase across the gravel. “Your picks don’t take up that much space.”

“Stuff.”

Tim rolled his eyes as the bag hit the walkway lined with pavers walking the brick that led to the entrance as he heaved the bags up the stoop and into the house.

“Lucy.” Angela greeted with arms open wide as her and Tim stepped into the house. “May I just say, you are rocking this new look.”

Lucy dropped her bag, stepping into the embrace as she wrapped her right hand around Angela’s back for a few seconds before pulling back out of the hug.

Angela stepped back, moving in front of Tim. “Did you forget to shave?”

Tim exasperatedly sighed, running a hand along the stubble. “It’s not that bad Angela.”

“You sure about that?” She told him earnestly before turning away, leading them out of the foyer and towards the quaint living room. “So, what highly illegal task do we need to accomplish this time for a federal agency that shall not be named.”

Lucy and Tim shared a glance. “We’re not-“

“Please.” Wesley told them as he entered the room from the kitchen. “I done my research on the two of you, well your cover identities, when you first approached us about Istanbul. If it’s on the internet, I can find it, just sometimes in less than legal ways.”

“You know that’s a federal crime, right?”

“Legal or not, your employer pays the bills.” He told them shrugging. “Besides, you can always think of it as our own version of don’t ask, don’t tell.”

The sound of the front door opening once again caused the heads in the room to turn, as a familiar voice echoed off the walls. “Lucy! I’m home!”

“Nolan, I think you watched one too many episodes on the flight.” Jackson West told his friend as he walked through the entry way behind him.

“It was the only show that seemed entertaining during our three-hour flight and, I’ve always wanted to say that.” He sighed with a smile as he set his bag down onto the hardwood floor.

After all the greetings were exchanged and sleeping arrangements made, the group unanimously made their way around to the back of the house, a variety of beers and seltzers in hand as Tim found dry kindling to build a fire in the large stone firepit. The atmosphere around them light, a cool summer breeze making its way off the lake behind them as they caught up with one another.

“So, what are we recovering exactly?” Nyla was the first to ask, leaning forward in the Adirondack chair as she stared down the two people that called them all together once again.

Lucy took a deep breath, her thumb rubbing at the corner of the plastic label on her bottle. “Artifacts, stolen artifacts.”

“Like Indiana Jones?” asked Jackson excitedly. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try the sandbag trick, well minus the whole chased by a giant rolling rock, dodging poisonous dart and spears that want to impale you.”

“Don’t forget you get to carry a whip and the fedora.” Added in Nolan, pretending to crack a whip in his hands. “I always wanted one of those as a child.”

Tim rolled his eyes at the antics of the hired help.

“Come on Tim, you can not tell me that as a child, you never once pretended to be a treasure hunter.” Lucy smiled as she took a quick sip from the bottle in her hand. “Unfortunately, these artifacts are not as cool. But they do cost a pretty penny.”

“So, expensive treasure.” Pointed out Wesley. “Where do we come in?”

“We have three days to get everything into place, but the meet is taking place at a boat dock about an hour north of here.” Tim sighed, the plan unraveling as he stoked the fire. “So far, we know of three major players involved but expect there to be one or two more.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Cole Midas, Nick Armstrong and Rosalind Dyer.”

Wesley let out a low whistle. “That’s the names of three people on three different most wanted lists right now.”

“Which is why this job is not going to be an easy one.” Tim told their misfit group of friends as he shared a look with Lucy. “If you want to walk away now, there would be no judgement from either of us.”

The five looked at one another, eyes bouncing from one person to the next as they each made their decision.

“I for one, could use a break from building treehouses.”

“I’m game, as long as I am back in time for my audition next week.”

Angela and Wesley shared a silent look. “We’re in.”

Lucy turned her head, looking towards the one person that had not given their answer yet. “Nyla?”

“We need a boat, right? I mean if the meeting is on a lake, we’re going to need a boat.”

Tim nodded, leaning back in his chair as he looked around the firepit at the faces of those that had saved his and Lucy’s asses more than once in the past few years. “Good. Then let’s get started.”

#the rookie fic #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford #fanfic

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noladyme · 4 years

Text

Chess. Chapter 8.

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, harassment, injuries. Rated M.

(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“Oh yes… Oh God, yes!”.

Ricks nails bore into my skin, scratching: and leaving red and white traces in their wake.

“Please don’t stop”, I gasped.

Looking up at me, he rearranged his body, giving him better access to his target,

I kicked my leg, moaning.

“Lie still”, he mumbled, and used his free hand to hold the leg down.

“Mhmm”, I responded, and sighed.

“You’re enjoying this too much”, Rick said, and pulled his fingers out from under the bandage on my foot.

I whimpered.

“No… please”, I said, grabbing his hand, and pushing it back towards my ankle. “You have no idea how itchy that thing is!”. He chuckled at me.

“Maybe next time, don’t let Harley cover your foot in glitter body lotion, before she wraps it up”.

“She said it was antibacterial. And I thought she was supposed to be a doctor”.

“Of psychiatry”, he smiled.

“Right”, I remembered. “Ironic”.

He laid back, putting his head on the pillow. I rolled over, a piece of paper sticking to my sweaty thigh.

Putting his arm behind my head, I snuggled up to him; our fingers entangled on his chest.

“Flag…”, I began.

“Rick”, he interrupted.

“Rick”, I smirked. “Rick with the amazing dick”.

“That’s… terrible”, he laughed, pulled me in and kissed my forehead. Our legs entwined. “What were you gonna say?”.

“What happens now?”, I asked.

“I don’t know. You don’t belong out there with them… us”, he finished.

“I think I do”, I said, turning my face to look at him. His eyes darkened. “Look; I’m a criminal. I’ve done things, I wish I hadn’t”.

“We all have”, he said quietly. I continued.

“But here, I can do something with this thing that was put on me. I can use it to help people like the ones we saved today”.

Rick sighed.

“That’s great, in theory”, he said.

“What do you mean?”, I wondered.

He looked uncomfortable for a second, pulled his arm out from behind my head, and sat up. I stroked my fingers up and down his back as he spoke.

“Can I say something, without you smacking me across the face again?”, he asked. I rolled my eyes in response. “You’re rash, you take unnecessary risks…”. I interrupted.

“Just like every other person in the squad!”.

“…and you’re not as strong as you think”, he finished.

I sat up. “I was strong enough to give you a run for your money, back when we were wrestling in that alley”, I said, and kissed his shoulder.

He turned to face me, and with a hand on my waist, he pushed me back down on the bed, and got on top of me.

“Maybe I was just enjoying rubbing up against you”, he breathed; and began to place small kisses down my neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?”, I laughed, and struggled against his grip. He chuckled against my neck, and started trailing his hand down my side, placing it on my buttcheek.

“What are you doing?”, I giggled.

“Checking out the asset”, he whispered into my ear, and squeezed my cheek. I squealed and laughed.

His phone buzzed in his pants pocket on the floor. He reached to pull it out; and the display read A. Waller.

“Flag”, he answered, and put a finger to his lips, hushing me.

“You heard. Yes… I know…”. He put his feet on the floor, and looked over his shoulder at me for a second.

“No, that’s not… No. Waller… Wall… Amanda! It’s too soon!”, he said in to the phone. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. I understand. Yeah… see you then”. He hung up. “Bitch!”. He threw the phone across the bed.

“Back to work?”, I asked, sitting up.

He ran his hand down his face, and turned halfway towards me.

“Waller… is coming here, to brief you all personally”.

“What does that mean?”, I asked, worried.

“I don’t know all the details, but it’s probably not good”. He turned all the way towards me, and took my hand, placing it on his cheek.

“There are things I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I wouldn’t even know where to start. The next couple of days you might hear some things…”, he said, and put his hands on either side of my face. “I need you to know, that this is real”.

“I know it is”, I said, and ran my thumb over his bottom lip. “I know”.

We got out of the bed, and started to dress. While Rick tied his boots, I picked up the harness, and looked at it.

Rick turned to face me, as I started putting it on.

“I’m sorry”, he said, and looked at the ground in front of him.

I limped over to him, stroke his cheek, and kissed his lips softly. Slipping my hand into his pocket, I pulled out the key he had placed there; and put it in his hand.

“Let’s just get this over with”, I said, and connected the straps to the disc on my chest; so he could lock it.

He did, and then pressed the button on his wrist. A short beep, and the light turned from green to red.

“This thing coming up… it doesn’t sound good. But I’m going to do whatever I have to, to make sure you’re safe”. He put his forehead to mine.

“I’m a big girl, Rick”, I smiled.

“You’re hotheaded and stubborn. And that’s not a compliment”, he said. “To top that of, you’re still injured”.

“Keep going like this, and I will smack you”, I smirked. He put his lips to mine, savoring the feeling.

“Just please… follow my orders, and we’ll get through this”.

I smiled at him.

“Yes, colonel Flag, sir!”.

He smirked, and we went out the door.

---

I’d had to go back to my cell; but I’d fallen asleep quickly, once Rick had led me there, removed my harness, and left me – after a quick kiss, while no one was watching.

The next morning, we were gathered in the gym.

Digger, as always, looked chronically hung over, but the only other member of the team seeming affected by the “party” the night before, was Harley; who was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses, and clutching a tiny cup of espresso.

I was sitting in my wheelchair, though I did not need it; it just so happened to be the most comfortable chair in the room. Foot raised on the empty beer crate, I was pretending to read my copy of Alice.

“Mhm”, said a voice from behind me. “Must have been a good one”.

Floyd sat down next to me.

“I’m not sure what you mean”, I said unconvincingly.

“You’ve been reading that same page for the last 20 minutes”, he said.

“It’s my favorite part”, I retorted.

“And,” he continued “you’re holding it upside down”.

My face reddened, and I put down the book.

“Anyone else notice?”, I asked.

“Oh, we all know. You have a hickey the size of Florida on your neck”, he chuckled.

“Fuck”, I gasped, and tried to cover my neck with my hand.

“Too late, girl”, Floyd smiled widely. “Only thing, I can’t figure out which one of these nasty ass guards you’d be willing to knock it with”.

So he didn’t know about Flag. Rick.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen”, I groaned. He laughed and patted my shoulder.

“Hey, you’ll get no shit from me. We all need a little tlc sometimes”, he smiled, and got up to walk away. Turning around, he stopped for a second.

“Did you find your something to live for?”.

“Maybe”, I said honestly. He nodded, and went to join Diablo at the dumbbells.

The metal doors opened, and Griggs came in, followed closely by a dozen of his men. No matter how badass he tried to look, it was clear he was terrified of us; especially when we were grouped together.

“Hey shitheads. Line up!”, he barked. “You had a nice party last night it seems”.

We all got in line, about six feet between us, as we stood next to each other; hands on our heads, and legs spread. Griggs walked up to a grey-faced Digger.

“Crocodile Dundee; stand up straight when I’m talking to you”, he roared in to the poor mans face; as he was doing his best to block out the sound with his hands.

He walked back and forth in front of us, avoiding getting too close to Croc, who was standing at the end of the line.

“You need to clean this shit up!”, he yelled, and kicked at the beer case I’d been resting my foot on earlier.

“I’ve been told you have guests coming in. That woman, Waller, and the colonels samurai”.

I started swaying; my ankle giving in to pain. It was difficult to stand up straight. Griggs sauntered over to me, and put his hands on my waist. I heard mumbling and a growl coming from my friends; but the guards all cocked their guns, and aimed them at our group.

“How’s the foot?”, he said quietly, looking into my eyes, swaying back and forth with me; in a weird slow dance.

“I heard you went to visit colonel Douche last night. You were in there a long time, Puss”, he jeered. “Did ya’ give the soldier boy a little lapdance? You’re good at that, ain’t you? What was that place called you worked at? Scottys’?”.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Floyd sending me a look of confusion.

“Get off me”, I hissed; trying to create distance between us, still keeping my hands on my head.

“Oh, come on”, Griggs smirked, leaning in to me. “You like a man in uniform, don’t you? All someone has to do is flash a bit of rank, and you’ll spread ‘em. Screwing your way out of here…”.

A bright voice interrupted him.

“In my professional experience, slut shaming is usually a sign of extreme insecurity, and pent up sexual frustration, stemming from the aggressing party not interacting in any kind of physical intercourse themselves”, Harley said pointedly. “Blue balls much?”, she finished, smiling brightly.

Griggs stepped away from me, and stormed towards her. He was stopped dead in his tracks, as Digger bent forward in front of him, heaving; and letting out a steady stream of his stomach content; making it land on Griggs’ uniform.

“Shit. You disgusting… Shit!”, Griggs yelped, and stormed towards the door, followed by his guards, who kept aiming their guns at us until the door closed behind them.

“Oops, sorry mate”, Digger burped. We all laughed.

“Come on man, let’s get you cleaned up”, Diablo said, and supported Diggers weight on their way to the bathroom. “Good job”, I heard him laugh, as they walked away.

I went to sit down; my hands shaking, as I arranged myself in the wheelchair.

“You and Flag, huh?”. Floyd was looking down at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been with some nasty ass skanks in my day. But… really?”, he looked at me, disbelieving.

I sighed.

“It’s like I said. It wasn’t supposed to happen”. I looked up at him. “But it did”.

Floyd tilted his head.

“I guess he’s got that Ken doll thing going for him. And he’s not a total asshole. Just be careful this doesn’t fuck up your situation in this place. We got it better here than we could have wished for, being who we are”, he said, and crouched in front of me.

“Live, Y/N”, he said quietly, squeezed my knee gently; and left me alone to my thoughts.

---

“You’re going to Gotham”.

Waller was briefing us in a conference room, connected to hallway outside the gym. We were all sitting around a table that gave off an aroma of stale coffee and cigarette smoke, looking at a slideshow, that would probably be destroyed once this meeting was over.

In a corner of the room stood a masked Asian woman, carrying a sword. Rick had introduced her to me as Katana.

“She’s got his back”, Harley had beemed at me, grabbing Katana in her arms, and giving her a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much!”. Katana had retreated as quickly as she could; and was now scowling at us from her corner.

“A terrorist group has threatened an attack on Midtown, three days from now”, Waller said. “Exactly where has yet to be confirmed; but we suspect it will be going down in the area of Gotham Proper. This makes either Gotham U., Central High School, or Gotham Hospital likely targets. Either way, casualties will be in the thousands”.

She switched the slide, showing us a map of what seemed to be the western part of Gotham.

“It seems the group has gained access to all surveillance footage in the area, meaning they will notice us coming at them, regardless of which direction we decide to take”.

“We?”, Diablo asked.

“Well, you. Obviously”, Waller retorted. “Police and military have been ordered to act as normal; not evacuate or show any sign that we are taking this threat seriously”.

“So basically, you’re letting people die”, Floyd said, trying to control his temper. “Why?”.

“Don’t worry, Deadshot. Your daughter and her mother have been sent on vacation to the west coast, visiting family.

“They ain’t got no family on the west coast”, Floyd growled.

“They do now”, Waller said.

“Get to the point, Waller. What do we need to do?”, Rick asked.

“You need to go in quietly, but well-armed”. She looked at me. “This is where you come in, Chess”.

Ricks eyes were instantly on me; worried and enraged.

“No, she’s not ready.”, he said as calmly as he could. Across the table, Harley was making a heart shape with her hands, winking at me.

“Colonel, you need to go in invisibly. Literally”, Waller said to him.

Rick walked up to her, and lowered his voice.

“She almost died yesterday. Her ankle is messed up; and she might have a couple of fractured ribs; due to the beating you let the guards here give her”. That last part was only half true, as I’d had no trouble with my ribs, when he was holding on to me for dear life, as I rode him the night before.

“I didn’t let the guards do anything. Y/N is a prisoner here at Belle Reve, and whatever treatment she receives from the staff here, is between her and them”. I really don’t like you, I thought.

“Amanda…”, Rick said, but was interrupted.

“Let’s speak in private”, Waller said coldly.

---

Rick and Katana walked us back to the gym, leaving Waller waiting for them in the conference room.

Once back, and out of sight of the guards, Rick looked at us all, his eyes ending up meeting mine. He lifted his hand, and pressed the button on his wrist. My disc shone green.

Katana grabbed his arm, and angrily said something I couldn’t understand.

“She deserves to know”, Rick said quietly, and walked up to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Remember what I said last night”, he said in a hushed tone. “And be quiet”.

I nodded, and disappeared from view.

Leaving the rest of the group behind, waiting for more instruction; we walked back to the conference room. Katana was grumbling something all the way; the only word I could understand being “stupid”.

Waller was sitting at the end of the table when we came in. I lightly touched Ricks arm, letting him know I was there. He sighed.

“Amanda, this is dangerous”, he said.

“I know”, she answered. “That’s why it’s these people doing it”.

“But her?”, he asked, sitting down in one of the chairs. It seemed he couldn’t sit far enough away from her; such was his aggravation.

“She’s getting to you”, Waller said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”.

“No. This is not that. She is a member of my team, who just so happens to be completely unprepared for this situation”. I stood against the wall behind him, watching his shoulders move as he spoke.

“This is not your team, Flag”, she said harshly. “These are assets; they’re disposable. You’re not supposed to make friends with them”.

“I am the leader of that squad”, Rick tried, with an authoritative voice.

“You are the babysitter of a bunch of gangbangers and psychopaths; put in this jail to be punished for their deeds. That gym out there was supposed to be a training facility. In stead you’ve let them turn it in to a frat house”.

Rick slammed his fist into the table, making me jump. Katana looked in my direction, letting me know she’d heard me. I needed to be quieter.

“You can’t ask this of them!”, he yelled. “She could die. They could all die!”.

“So?”, Waller said, voice leveled; eyes cold.

“How long have you known about her?”, he asked.

“She’s been on the board for a while; a file I kept in my drawer for when I needed her. When this threat came in, I knew it was time to extract her”.

“This is the one, isn’t it?”, Rick said. “The one you’ve been preparing for months. The one you didn’t want to tell me about. Why?”.

“Because I knew what your reaction would be, and I didn’t have time to deal with your sensitive emotions”, she answered.

Rick sighed. “There is no threat, is there?”.

“There is a threat, but it’s not new. We’ve known about this group for a little over a year”.

“Then why now?”, he wondered.

“Because we caught her”, she answered. “Now we finally have a chance of taking them down; because they won’t be able to see you coming”.

“And the attack? That’s bullshit?”. He was tensing up.

“Not exactly”, Waller said, gathering her papers. “We know they have access to explosives, and that they are able to set them up quickly; causing great damage to a large area. The three targets I mentioned before, are still the most likely to be hit”.

Rick stood up and walked over to her, staring her down menacingly.

“When we finish this one; you and me – we’re done”.

She took her papers and walked towards the door.

“If you say so”, she said, and closed the door behind her.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn #amanda waller

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mariinara · 4 years

Text

TWENTY-TWO (Sam Drake x Reader) ANGST |PART 1|

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I'm STILL alive lmao. I've been so held back by finals that I didn't have time to actually think of writing or the premise of this request but a thought suddenly OCCURED to me and HERE WE ARE. Hope ya'll enjoy this 🥰.

Request for anon: '14, 18, and 19 for angst prompts with Sam? 👀👀 I also really really adore your work!!!'

Tags: @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @missdictatorme , @hrgnm , @elledrake , @samdrakeftw , @ghost-of-the-oldwest, @s4mdrake , @purplezebra68

Prompts: "Can you just kiss me? One last time? That's all I ask.." + "Don't make this harder than it already is.." + "It's better this way."

Warnings: OKAY. So this one has none of the prompts yet. This gets a little NSFW towards the end. HUGE age-gap between Sam and the reader. Mentions of Sam getting cheated on. So on, so forth.

Word count: 4,106

(Part 2 here!)

“I got it.”

You reached out for the plates Sam held in his hands, giving him a polite smile as you did. He returned it and carefully handed them over to you, being cautious so as not to drop the multiple cups in his other hand.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He said, to which you smiled brighter before turning around and walking over to your best friend and Sam’s only daughter-- Avery. Sam was hot on your heels to the kitchen and you placed all the dishes in the sink for you and Ave to clean up.

You smiled to yourself when you saw Sam giving his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, which made her groan in embarrassment but giggle when her dad made fun of her. It's always been like that. You’d sleep over at their place for the weekends and help around the house after dinner. It was a tradition that you’d kept ever since kindergarten, back when Sam and your father were friends, before the asshole completely bailed out on you and your mother when you were quite young. Sam had your mom’s back throughout the years, with family court, some expenses she couldn’t handle, finding her a job, taking care of you when she was working late. They were like brother and sister and you grew to be Sam’s second daughter, but as soon as you hit sixteen, spending time around Sam became for the sole purpose of just..

Being around him.

You didn’t know how or why it happened, but ever since that whole month he’d spent picking you up from highschool with his daughter to go over to their place, make dinner for you, and struggle with calculus, you felt those butterflies in your stomach whenever he’d call you “sweetheart” or kiss your forehead or give you the warmest of smiles. He did the same thing with his daughter, but you weren’t his daughter and, since that month, Sam became the epitome of the man you’ve always been dreaming of.

He was funny, spontaneous, had a heart of gold, but jokes as dirty as the bottom of his worn out Timberlands that only added to his rugged charm. He was supportive, understanding, and showed unadulterated love and passion towards his daughter-- towards bringing her up. Granted, he was stubborn and had a bit of a temper and rarely ever listened to the voice of reason, but those traits all came with the ‘pure-hearted man’ package.

And when you went to college with Avery and the two of you got a summer job outside of Boston, you found yourself missing the man during the entirety of the summer that you’d spent away from him and when he’d facetime you and Avery, you’d stay up talking to him about movies, books, your job, how your day went. He cared for you like a daughter and while that was frustrating for you for a couple of months, you found out that as long as you were around him, that was enough. As long as he loved and cared for you, that was enough. You were no longer interested in having a much older man wrapped around your finger. You didn’t know how he might react but you were sure he was going to lecture you about how you were too young. How him and your parents had been friends for over two decades. That you were like a daughter to him, nothing more. You could literally feel the red hot waves of embarrassment creeping up your neck with the mere thought of confessing to the man who constantly drove you crazy with the simplest of gestures.

But you swallowed your tongue and bottled up your more-than-likely teenage hormones and never told anyone about your feelings. Nobody knew. Not even Avery. Especially not Avery. You weren’t prepared to lose your childhood best friend over emotions that’d eventually fade. And you weren’t prepared to lose the only “father-figure” in your life, either.

So, there you were: Cleaning the dishes while chatting about random subjects with Sam and Avery. Your mind and heart were heavy, but you weren’t willing to ruin the few days off you had in Boston with your family. Your mom was in New Jersey-- too busy with work to drop everything to come and see you. It was upsetting, but those two made everything better for you.

You looked over your shoulder when Sam called out to both of you from the living room and, coincidentally, you’d just finished drying the last dish. You and Avery exchanged looks before chuckling.

“He sounds excited..” You commented, to which Avery rolled her eyes with a smile she couldn’t conceal.

“His video game just got here..” She nonchalantly said, but that caused your eyes to widen slowly before you dropped the rag from your hand.

“What video game?”

“Uhh..” She pulled on a thinking face, “Dead.. Red.. Somethin’ -- I dunno, dude.”

In a flash, you were out of the kitchen and on the couch, right next to Sam, who looked at you with a grin which you returned with a bright smile, “You ready?”

You sighed and shook your head, “Ready to watch you fail miserably at this.”

“Oh, that is-- That’s not fair.” He laughed lightly while you waited for the game to install data. He’d turned to you when he said that, faking defeat. You smiled and shook your head, looking down at your hands.

God, he was so perfect. The way the corners of his eyes tugged up when he smiled. His wrinkles. His bright, warm, hazel eyes that held both strength and tenderness.

Nope. You weren't getting over that man anytime soon. And when you snapped back from staring at him, you found him staring back at you silently, his eyes jumping from yours and to your lips and then you felt it.

That spark.

His smile softened and some perverse area in your brain convinced you that he was leaning closer. Or maybe you were and he stayed still because he wanted this as much as you did.

"You guys again.." Avery sighed as she plopped on the lazy boy chair next to the couch, her eyes on the TV screen.

Sam cleared his throat and looked down at his lap, rubbing his sweaty hands against his thighs and you looked down at your hands that were nestled between your thighs, biting down on your lip to contain a girly giggle.

"What is it with you two and video games?" Avery asked, resting her head back on the back of the chair.

You turned to her, immediately perking up at her words. You then sighed and sat back with an eye roll, "Your daughter is such a disappointment.." You muttered to Sam, who shook his head in fake dismay, clicking his tongue.

"She can take that attitude to the orphanage." He joked, which made you look at him with furrowed brows, a surprised laugh leaving you.

"Har‐Har. Very funny." She rolled her brown eyes at the both of you, crossing her arms when her dad sent her a wink and mouthed an 'I love you', "You two just have fun and I.." She stood up from her place, "Am gonna crash." She stretched her arms up with a groan and a yawn afterwards, reaching under her pyjama top to scratch her stomach.

"Alright, baby, g'night." Sam called out, receiving a wave-off from his daughter, "I love you!" He called out with an amused grin.

"You're not gettin' one back, old man." She called back from the top of the staircase that led to her room. Her response made Sam laugh lightly.

You looked at him when he did, soaking in his infuriatingly good looks. You couldn't help but smile when he shook his head and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, the controller in his hands and his eyes glued to the TV.

"Ready?” He asked, sending you a grin and a small eyebrow raise, as if he was challenging you.

You raised a brow at him in the same fashion and nudged his shoulder with your fist, grinning back, “Ready to see your ass getting kicked, y'old geezer.”

Sam rolled his eyes and focused on the TV and you could see his little smile from the corner of your eyes, only to see it falter as he looked at the controller and back at the TV repeatedly, “Uhh..”

You looked down at the controller to see that the blue light wasn’t emitting from the front, which meant he was disconnected. You smirked as you watched him struggle and button-mash with a questioning look on his face.

“Either you’re really exhausted or you really don’t know how to work a PlayStation controller..” You quipped, trying to hold back an amused chuckle, “Which I doubt.”

Sam frowned in confusion at you and looked at his controller again, his shoulders slacking when he saw that it wasn’t lit. He breathed out a chuckle, his eyes closing. You could tell that he was beating himself up at his own lack of focus, “Yeah, okay..” He reached for the charging cable and plugged it into the controller, “Got it. Thanks for the help.” He sarcastically muttered.

“Don’t mention it.” You replied nonchalantly.

And there he went, completely immersed in playing, while you watched him take one too many bullets, get devoured by giant snakes, or gallop off a cliff. He’d curse and laugh in frustration, his head getting thrown back while you teased him about how he’d make the same mistakes over and over again. You made short trips to and from the kitchen to grab some beer for both of you to go about your long gaming hours.

An hour turned into two, which turned into five-- by some miracle. Two bottles of beer turned into six, and then it was the whole pack. You two handled alcohol well, but it didn’t mean that you weren’t a little tipsy. You found yourself laughing at your blunders when it was your turn to play, which elicited laughter from Samuel, despite not knowing what was so funny.

You then sighed and paused the game to rub your eyes, calming down from whatever hilarity that was going on. You then sniffled and sat back, “I dunno how Ave doesn’t like video games..” You mumbled, watching Sam taking a swig from his beer. He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed with a heavy breath afterwards.

“Uhh..” He leaned forward to put the nearly empty bottle down, “She’s more like her mom than anything; She got everything from ‘er.” He paused for a second, “Uh-- Well not everything, but..” He sent you an unreadable look, his lips pressed together in a thin line, “She’s still here, y’know?”

You knew.

Ave had told you about why her mother was no longer in the picture. Rather, she was never in the picture. Not for Avery, at least. She was too young when her mom “left” them. The lack of a father for you and the lack of a mother for her was why your relationship grew stronger. You were both missing certain aspects from your life and you could relate and understand each other better because of it. So while it was a curse, it served as a blessing. She was always open about that issue and about her past.

But the reason you perked up when Sam started talking-- when his voice had the faintest tinge of sadness and his eyes glued to his hands as he fiddled with his thumb, seemingly deep in thought -- was because he’d never opened up to you about that particular bit. You knew everything, but only in Ave’s perspective and you never knew how Sam felt about all of it.

“Whaddya mean?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the couch so one leg was bent under you and the other was on the floor, your arm resting on the back.

He glanced at you, unsure. He seemed like he wanted to take what he said back. His eyes darted nervously around the living room and he pursed his lips, clearing his throat, “I’m.. sure Avery told you."

You shrugged, a small, warm smile playing on your lips, "But you're not Ave."

Sam's left thumb rubbed against the palm of his right hand and he looked down and away from you, his leg bouncing up and down and his elbows braced on his knees again when he leaned forward. He seemed like he was thinking deeply about what you'd said and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh of surrender.

"Do we have any more beer left..?" He quietly asked. You blinked and stopped fiddling with the fraying thread on the stitching of the back of the couch.

"Uhh.." You racked your brain, "Just the shitty kind.." You replied with a small shrug.

He nodded, still not looking at you, "Grab one."

"Alright.."

You made a quick trip to the open kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing him a bottle and popping it open. When you were done, you went back to the living room, sitting back down next to him and handing him the cold beverage.

He rested back and placed his arm on the back of the couch, bringing the bottle to his lips. You watched him intently, leaving him to collect his thoughts. You knew he was trying to filter them-- to decide what it was he was going to say and what it was he was going to leave out, but God, you wanted him to be as authentic and transparent as possible.

“I tried..”

He suddenly started. His voice had dropped an octave, as if he didn’t want you to hear that. You did, though, and his words -- as simple as they were -- made you frown deeply. You just wished he’d look back at you but he only looked down at his lap, his fingers tapping on the bottle that rested on his knee.

“I really.. really did..” He shook his head slightly, “I tried for Avery.. She was so young and I thought she needed her mother, but..” He let out a dry chuckle, reaching up to rub his forehead, “One day, I come back home after a long day out with Avery.. We–" He laughed softly– wistfully even, "We spent the whole day at the zoo and.. I'd almost forgotten about why it hurt to be at home, but.." He shrugged, frowning again as his gaze lowered. You saw him swallow thickly, as if he was holding himself back from an outburst, "I walk in there and I see another man in my bed with my wife.."

Your heart stung at what he said. What made it worse was how he said it. His voice had cracked and it was barely above a whisper. You never knew what Avery's mother did exactly and upon hearing that, you wondered how a person could be so selfish. So willing to give people like Sam up for her own personal pleasure. So willing to leave her little girl with that permanent scar in her life.

"I knew she was doing that.." He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, his brows twitching to a furrow as he swallowed again, only a bit harder. He pursed his lips and exhaled shakily, "I never thought that she'd bring him home. To our room. Our bed.." He wiped the palm of his free hand against his lap, inhaling a shaky breath, "The.. same goddamn bed where our baby girl slept between us while we sang her to sleep.."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and felt your eyes well up with tears at what he said. He'd been keeping those thoughts to himself all that time and it seemed as if finally voicing those thoughts– the nightmares that clawed at his brain every single night – brought tears of comfort and relief to his eyes.

Your eyes flickered up to see him frowning, his eyes still closed and his lips pressed tightly together. But there was no way you could miss it: That single, glistening tear that ran down his cheek. You felt the anxiety bubbling within you.

That was not what you had in mind.

You didn't want to see him like that.

You thought he'd stopped hurting from that a long, long time ago but you were wrong. It never left him. He carried that weight around while simultaneously trying to raise a happy daughter all by himself.

He covered his eyes with one, trembling hand, rubbing them while trying to take deep breaths to calm himself. You reached for his back and started to rub big, slow circles silently, letting him know that it was okay to let it all out. That was something that you've never experienced before. In all of your years knowing him, that was the first time you've seen him like that. And you absolutely hated it.

How he trembled with every cry he held back from you. How he furiously rubbed away the tears from his eyes with his fingers. He reached to set the half empty bottle on the table and plopped back again, his posture surrendered and weak.

“Oh, baby girl..” He breathed out, shaking his head slowly, “If I’d known she was gonna grow up, knowing that her mother betrayed her, hurting because of it for so long.. I wouldn’t’ve married her..” He finally removed his hand from his eyes and sniffled, “I wish she’d know how sorry I am sometimes.. Because I look at her, and..” He sighed, trying to find the right words, “I just-- I see a beautiful, smart, creative girl who deserves the world and I always feel like there’s somethin’ missing in her life and it’s like whatever I do, it’d never compensate for the lack of a mother figure and--”

You cut off his rambling by squeezing his shoulder lightly, “Sam..” You shook your head, a deep frown on your face. For the first time during the past fifteen minutes, he looked at you. He looked so lost. His cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes were red and glassy with the layer of tears that begged for one more reason to drop from his hazel eyes. You pursed your lips and shook your head at him and the longer you looked at him, the more you felt his pain. And before you knew it, you lurched forward, right into his arms, hugging him close. As close as possible. Your fingers curled to grip at the back of his t-shirt as you closed your eyes tightly and let your own tears run down your cheeks. He seemed to be in a state of shock for a couple of seconds but, slowly, his arms snaked around your waist to hug you back. His fingers sunk in the skin of your back through the thin pyjama top the tighter he held onto you. His nose was buried into the crook of your neck and, despite your furiously beating heart, you mustered up enough courage to let your fingers slip into the back of his hair for your nails to softly and soothingly scratch his scalp.

“You could’ve never known, Sam..” You spoke, your voice a hushed whisper as you continued calming him with your fingers, “Avery is the best friend I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you and you alone..”

You felt him inhale deeply, his chest pressing against yours more as his lungs expanded and the breath he let out against your neck almost made you dizzy but you continued without fail, “I hope you know that I think you’re the most amazing human being on this planet and, when in doubt, remember how much you’ve helped me and mom through the hardest times..”

Sam slowly relaxed in your arms and his hand started rubbing circles on your back until it was just about the both of you, comforting each other in the comfortable silence. His steady breaths let you know that there was an enormous weight on his chest and it’d been lifted only then. During that conversation. It was all he needed: Someone to listen to him and hold him and..

He slowly pulled away from the embrace but his hands were loosely on your hips. He looked at you with a warm gaze. Stared into your soul, unraveling you then and there. The look in your eyes-- that pure adoration you had towards him. The way you gave him those big, beautiful eyes and bit down on your lip while you stared at his. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

No one had ever looked at him that way and as much as that scared him. As much as it was wrong and unethical. He felt himself gravitating towards you. It was absolutely ridiculous how both of you had no control and almost seemed surprised by your own actions. While one hand remained on your hip, his other raised to brush your hair out of your eyes to tuck it behind your ear and grab the side of your neck, his thumb brushing on your jawline once, twice, three times as he leaned closer and closer. His breath fanned your lips and suddenly, his lips were against yours.

The warmth inside you burst. It overflowed. Your brows arched and you took in a deep breath, in disbelief of what was going on but it felt so good. So wrong but so right all at once. As bad as it was, your eyes fluttered shut and your resolve melted away completely, but Sam suddenly realized..

You are his friend’s daughter.

He practically raised you.

He pulled away with a disapproving groan and pressed the back of his hand to his lips, blinking repeatedly. You studied his reaction carefully, your own fingers ghosting your lips as you took in a shaky breath.

“Fuck..” He breathed out, his eyes closing and his brows knitting together, “I’m sorry, sweetheart-- I dunno what came over m--”

You silenced him by grabbing his shirt and pulling him to crash your lips against his again.

‘Fuck it.’, you thought, ‘He needs this and so do I.’

Your hands went to his shoulders, your grip firm on his muscles. He was still tense and he wasn't kissing back but, God, when your tongue brushed his bottom lip softly, he felt his willpower dwindling away.

He wasn't thinking anymore and neither were you.

It was a right-here-right-now moment and you were going to cease the chance and hold onto it with your nails and teeth.

When he relaxed and kissed you back deeply, you pushed him down on the couch, never breaking the kiss as you straddled his hips. His hands were all over you. Under your top, his nails scratched at your tender skin gently and the moan he let out when you pressed yourself against his crotch snapped something within you.

And Sam?

He was too far gone.

'Fuck..' He thought, 'This is so wrong.. So fuckin' wrong..'

He watched you hastily unbutton his pants and he told himself to stop this. That there was still time for him to push you off of him and tell you what a mistake that was. But he couldn't help it. The innocence in your eyes as they flickered to look up at him. The sweet yet devious grin you sent him.

The fact that you could get any man you wanted but needed him right there was enough to make his resolve crumble.

He let out a grunt and closed his eyes, throwing his head back and trying to steady his breathing. You were so needy. Your hands were on his hips as your mouth fully enveloped him. He couldn't help himself. His hips bucked and low, gruff curses tumbled from his parted lips.

And you couldn’t stop yourself.

You wanted to relieve him and he felt so good. His hands brushing your hair back and holding it in a tight fist. And you watched his head rolling back again after he’d mustered up enough strength to look at what you were doing.

You didn’t know it yet but you had much to regret soon.

And so did he.

Nothing would ever be the same again after that night.

#sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted #peakymarvels #sam drake x reader #uncharted4 #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake angst #uncharted angst

96 notes · View notes

annabethy · 4 years

Text

midnight

to the anon that sent me this prompt: i saved this as a draft and accidentally deleted it because Tumblr sucks so i no longer have the ask but i still wrote it and i really hope u see this. aka the dog is the wingman

Percy glares at his dog that was currently standing by the door, staring him down with big, sad eyes.

It was like Mrs. O’Leary knew the worst times to go on a walk, but did the dog care? No, of course not. The dog’s job was to make Percy’s life more difficult, and she was doing just that.

“I have a final,” Percy grumbles, already clucking the leash onto the dog’s harness knowing he lost the staring contest. “And you decide you have to go on a walk at midnight, so I’m going to fail and cry and it will be your fault.”

Mrs. O’Leary just wags her tail excitedly, twirling in circles as Percy unlocked just apartment door, tightening his jacket around himself.

The only good thing about the midnight walk was Percy wouldn’t run into anyone he knew because he did not look good. He looked the opposite of good. Disgusting, abhorrent, repulsive, unable to be loved by even his own mother.

Let’s just say a pair of old grey sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt did not suit him.

The walk did help to clear his mind though. Percy loosely gripped the leash in one hand, breathing in the fresh air as he walked alongside ants O’Leary, pausing for her to sniff at the grass around the deserted park.

It was so peaceful, and Percy was starting to actually be okay with being pulled from the comfort of his own apartment. It wasn’t so bad, just chilling in the breeze, or at least that’s what he thought.

One second.

That’s how long he let go of that stupid leash.

In that one second that he was bending down to tie his shoe, Mrs. O’Leary stops feigning interest in the ant pile and bolts down the path.

“Mrs,” he hisses, sprinting after the dog with one shoelace dangerously undone. She takes a sharp turn and Percy nearly falls on his ass, just barely making it around the corner.

Percy swears he was getting closer, but the reality was quite the opposite. Mrs. O’Leary slowly creeps further and further away, and Percy just does not have the stamina to keep up.

It was for that reason that he was in no way going to be able to stop her from jumping onto a stranger’s lap in the one area of the park that was pitch black.

Of course. Everything went wrong in Percy’s life, because it wouldn’t be his life if it didn’t.

“Uh—“ Percy chokes on air, because he could only see the vague outline of a person, and then there were two piercing grey eyes staring back at him. He didn’t call the dog off, too distracted by the terrifying eyes that felt all too similar to ones you’d see in a horror movie.

“Your shoe’s untied,” the person deadpans, who he now realized is a girl.

Percy stammers uncomfortably, whistling his dog back to his side. When she didn’t come, Percy had to come forwards and bodily wrestle her away from the stranger, who seemed rather amused with the whole situation. It was like she was enjoying Percy’s misery.

A few breathless moments later, Percy was back to staring at the dark outline, wondering why the fuck this girl was sitting in the dark.

A light clicked on in front of him.

“Boo.”

Percy actually jumps, shooting the girl a glare once his heart stops threatening to throw him into cardiac arrest. It takes a moment of him catching his breath, his hand over his chest dramatically, before he can whine, “That’s not funny.”

“Kind of.” She precariously closes a book laying on her lap, choosing to pay attention to the squirming Percy who was looking at her like she was about to rip his throat out. “Are you okay?”

Percy scratches his neck, not liking the way this was going. Nothing good ever comes at midnight. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he chooses to ask.

“I concentrate the best in the dark.” The girl blinks at him, looking him up and down. Percy now takes the time to look at, noticing her perfect blond ringlets and stormy grey eyes that were significantly less creepy once light was on them. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, uh— it’s Percy.” He tightens his grip on the leash again, silently cursing his dog getting him into this mess.

“Percy,” she states cordially. “Are you always this much of a stuttering mess?”

He would’ve gasped in indignation, but like she said, he was too much of a stuttering mess. Instead, he just looks at her, offended.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “You look like I’m about to whip a knife out and stab you.”

“You were sitting in the dark,” he manages. “Alone.”

“As I said, I like the dark.” The girl tilts her head. “I’m Annabeth.”

“Nice of you not to kill me, Annabeth.”

She pulls the corner of her mouth up in a smile. Percy’s stomach does a little flutter, because wow she is so much cuter now that his fight or flight senses weren’t on overdrive.

Percy shifts his feet, unable to tear his eyes away. “You were really sitting here because... you were reading in the dark? That sounds kind of impossible.”

“I wasn’t reading,” she says. “I was thinking. About the book.”

“Oh. That makes perfect sense,” he lies.

“Yeah, right.”

An awkward silence settles, and he desperately wants to make it go away. Mrs. O’Leary pulls at the leash again, and Percy has to resist the urge to kick his dog.

“May I ask why you chose to ‘think about the book’ at midnight in the dark?”

She laughs, and it’s something of a dream. “I have a final tomorrow. I just needed someone dark and quiet to recite things in my head. It’s how I memorize things.”

“I have a final too,” he tells her. “And this dog decided I just had to take her out right this instant.”

“Well, that’s okay. If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten the pleasure of meeting me.”

Percy reels, because yeah, that was definitely her flirting with him. Or perhaps he was reading too much into it, but she really hopes he was flirting with him.

Percy decides to take a chance, trying really hard not to seem as desperate as he really was. At twenty-one, he should have more game than he does, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ll have to let me know how that final goes,” he says, already backing off in the direction he came from.

Annabeth takes the bait, leaning forwards slightly on her crossed legs. “How am I meant to do that when I have no way of contacting you?”

“You could always give me your number,” he says, and Annabeth rolls her eyes at his blatant attempt, but she seems oddly endeared and he might actually have a shot here. “I’m sure we’ll both be dead on our feet. I could take you out for coffee afterwards.”

“Sounds delightful,” she says, holding out her hand to signal for him to give her his phone.

Percy steps closer again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and setting it into her hand, watching as she types a few numbers in. When it’s back in his hand and she’s shooting him a dazzling smile, he decides to take off, ready to go to sleep just so he gets to see her pretty smile again.

“I should get going,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “It was nice meeting you, Annabeth. Thank you for not stabbing me.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” she tells him, eyes full of mirth. “As for the stabbing, you better call, or I might just have to change that.”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, lifting his hand in a final wave. “Until tomorrow.”

As Percy walks away, he tries very hard not to trip on his shoelace that still isn’t tied, igniting Annabeth’s teasing warning not to fall on his face. It was mortifying, but so was the whole encounter, and she seemed thoroughly into him, so he still wins. The second he’s out of her line of vision, there is not an ounce of shame inside him as he kneels to the ground to hold up a hand for Mrs. O’Leary.

“High five, girl,” he whispers, not even grossed out when she presses her slimy nose to his palm. “We just got a pretty girl’s phone number on a midnight walk, and if that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”

Maybe he had been wrong before.

Sometimes the best things do come at midnight.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #anon i am so sorry #also thank u for the prompt because no one ever sends me any #my writing #anon #asks

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ds-ts-smut-fics · 4 years

Text

Far From Home [Chapter One]

Read on Ao3

Synopsis: When Logan, a human monk, comes across an unconscious tiefling in the forest, he nurses him back to health and they decide to travel together. Logan quickly realizes there's a reason Remus is on the road, and not one easily fixed.

Trigger warnings: NSFW, dnd typical violence, demonic possession, lmk if i missed anything!

Words: 5,379

A/N: There's some sex scenes in this fic, fair warning. Feel free to give suggestions on what to do, events, loot, etc! This is a completely homebrew world so no limits. They're currently at level 5. Claire is playing Logan, I'm playing Remus. Remus is a bard rogue.

Logan had never travelled so far between towns.

He’d been going for several days. There was nothing but fields of dying grass and thick clumps of trees. If memory served well, he was close to the Jubilex Thicket, thus not too far from a river he could wash up at. The sun was setting fast, though. If he didn’t find a place to camp soon, he’d be travelling in the dark.

In between the clopping of Juniper’s hooves, something slithered to the right of him. A rustle of leaves, a grunt of pain, and a thud.

The forest was too dark to see inside, but something rustled. Pulling up on the reins, he tries to see what's moving, hand sliding to his sword as he debates calling out to the dim area off to the side of the path. It could be an ambush, and that would not end well for me. On the other hand, it could be someone in need of aid.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Something slithered away with a slorp sound, and the forest went still. Shivering, he pats Juniper's neck.

"That's not creepy or foreboding AT ALL…. I think we should continue on our way, maybe there's a clearing ahead."

Juniper shakes her head, moving towards where the sound was, making a soft sound. Frowning, Logan slides off, trying to see what she does.

"What is it, girl? You see something, hmm?"

Logan stared hard at the ground, where Juniper sniffed at, but he couldn’t for the life of him find anything. That was, until moonlight glinted off something on the ground— a sickle. Logan trailed his eyes to the hand wrapped loosely around the handle, up to what he quickly realized was a tiefling laying in the dirt. Deep black skin, shoulder-length hair that faded from green to black. He was covered in black clothes, a trenchcoat, hood, and a mask. With Logan’s human vision, it was no wonder he couldn’t see him.

"Oh dear heavens!" Dropping to his knees, he does a quick check for wounds, using some of his ki to heal him with a touch after moving the weapon as he doesn't want to get stabbed.

The man’s eyes snapped open— stark white and pupil-less. He sat up with a rush, then dropped one of his sickles to grip his head with a groan.

Shifting back a little to give space, he can't help but smile. "I promise, I mean no harm. My name is Logan, may I offer some water and rations? Once I make camp for the night I can attempt more healing. It is getting dark for me though, I nearly missed seeing you!"

He blinked and looked around, his eyes nearly glowing. His voice came out gravelly, painful to even listen to. “Uh… That- That’s okay. I have some. Thanks for the help.”

"You're welcome, I really must insist though, it wouldn't be right to leave you here. At least spend the night? I can build a fire for warmth, lend you a blanket?" Offering a hand, he hums softly, calloused fingers tan and marked with the practice of using the sword at his hip. "What do you say?"

The man hesitated. He grabbed Logan’s hand and hoisted himself up, then reached down to snatch his sickle. “I’m Remus. If you make a fire, I can set up a place to sleep.”

Remus didn’t have much on him. He clearly lived out of his backpack, a bedroll stuffed messily on top. His hooves were rough and scratched.

"Sounds like a deal, Remus! Oh, this here is Juniper, she led me to you." Helping him over, he looks Remus over. "Been out here for long?"

Remus smiled at Juniper awkwardly, then set his bag on the ground to pull out his bedroll. “So-so. Do you have a bedroll or anything?”

Tapping a bundle on Juniper, he nods, smiling a little as he turns to get a fire going for them. "I do. Want me to pass it over? I'll get her settled after I get a fire going."

“Yeah. Here.” Remus dug around in his bag for a minute, before taking out a paper-wrapped box. He tossed it to Logan. “Some meat you can cook. Do you eat meat?”

Catching it easily, he nods, the fire starting to crackle and glow merrily. "I'm not terribly picky so long as it's cooked. Did you hunt this?"

He tossed out his bedroll then grabbed Logan’s. “Yeah, this morning. Just glad it’s not going to waste.”

"Do you not eat meat then?" Tipping his head, he sets his pack down next to the box, turning to tend to Juniper.

“No, I just meant…” Remus laughed weakly and pulled off his trench coat, revealing a ripped up button-down in loose fabric. It hung off his shoulders and showed more of his chest than it covered. He pulled his mask down. He had delicate, round features, face covered in scars. “I almost died. It would’ve just rotted in my bag, you know?”

"Oh!" Blushing softly, he lets his eyes wander a bit, 'assessing the damage' on Remus. "You were quite injured, but I don't think you would have passed on. Shall I do another healing?" I knew I was more attracted to delicate males, but I am in trouble. He's so lovely!

He shook his head. “No, don’t waste it. I’ll feel better after getting some rest. Are you a cleric or something? How’d you… You know?”

"How'd I heal you? I'm a monk, I follow the traditions of the way of mercy. I used some of my energy to give you a little boost in health, and I can do so several more times before I rest if you have need?" Brushing out Juniper a little, he slides off her harness so she can graze.

“No, really, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though, that’s… Interesting.” He helped Logan skewer the meat over the fire, roasting it almost like he roasted marshmallows when he was younger. “Are you headed anywhere in particular?”

"Thank you." Turning the meat occasionally, he smiles. "I'm not really headed anywhere specific, are you?"

Remus hesitated, then nodded. “West. There’s a village on the coast I need to get to.”

"Would you object to some company? I was simply instructed to leave the monastery and assist others." Looking over at Remus, he smiles a little.

Remus pulled a sliver of meat from the fire and stuffed it into his mouth, showing off a row of sharp, fang-like teeth. Feral tiefling? Logan pondered.

Stick your hand in the fire!

“No,” Remus mumbled.

"Ah, excellent, then I shall accompany you to that village." Nodding, he hums. Feral or not, I did offer my assistance. He's dangerous but oddly cute.

Remus looked up in surprise, then bit back a curse. “I really don’t need any help,” he promised. “You don’t have to.”

"I don't, that's true. However, I did offer, and I truly don't have anything else to do. It would be a pleasure to accompany you if you'd like a road companion."

What, scared you’ll have to find a quick way to get rid of him? I know a fun way!

“Shut up,” Remus mumbled, then said louder, “Okay. Sure. I’ll take first watch, you get some sleep.”

He stood, then with a quick echo of fire? in his head, Remus swept his hand through the top of the flames and stepped away to find a good vantage place to take watch.

"Remus, wait! You're still recovering… If you won't let me heal you, at least let me take the first watch so you can rest and heal?" Logan frowns lightly, worried by the sporadic behavior of his new companion. Is he really okay?

Remus turned to him, pressing his now slightly-burnt hand to his skirt made of rags. “If I go to bed now, I won’t wake up on time for my shift, and I won’t be able to protect us as well. Let me ride the rest of my energy, then I’ll get some sleep. Promise.”

"Promise to wake me when your energy wanes?" Holding out his hand, he hums. "Let me heal you at least a little more as well, please?"

Remus hesitated, then sighed and took his hand. “It’s really a waste, but sure. And yes, I will wake you up.”

Taking his hand, he smiles softly, kissing the dark skin. "Mmm, thank you. It eases my mind to know you're more healed up to protect us."

Remus’ face turned bright red. “Uh… Th-thank you. Go to sleep, alright?”

Nodding, he winks, standing straight again and heading for where his bedroll is set up. "I will. I have some stretching to do first, but I'll be settling in. Thank you for watching the area, Remus."

Remus climbed up to a low-hanging branch and settled against the trunk, watching their little area.

You could always wait for him to sleep and take his stuff. His horse has taken a liking to you! She’d be easy to steal!

“I’m not doing that,” he mumbled.

Humming lowly as he works though some gentle stretches, Logan turns and clicks softly to Juniper, offering her a cube of sugar as he bids her goodnight. Remus went through his watch, enduring Adelaide’s taunts until he got tired, and finally let Remus settle into quiet.

He waited until he was about to fall off the branch from nodding off before he got down and shook Logan awake.

Waking easily, he smiles a little as it clicks who this is over him and he hums. "Remus… You waited a little longer than I thought. Did you want my warm bedroll? You look about ready to drop."

Remus blushed. “Uh… Sure. Let me just roll mine up.”

He reached for his cold one, only to land hard on his hands. He laughed it off and settled back on his knees, starting to roll it up.

Taking over the motion, Logan gently helps Remus onto his bedroll, settling his blanket around his shoulders. "Definite cue for you to rest. It'll help me wake up to get this all packed up."

Remus hesitated, but he really couldn’t help it. Logan’s blanket was warm against the freezing night air and it smelled like him. “Yeah… Okay.” He crawled around Logan to flop down onto the bedroll, kicking off his skirt and burying his face in the pillow.

Wrapping his cloak around himself more, Logan slides his hood up as he works, adding more wood to the fire. "You deserve a nice warm spot, Remus. Sleep well."

He mumbled something into the pillow, voice tight with embarrassment, and went to sleep.

Giving him a soft pat on the hair, Logan turns to making the camp set up organized, watching the edge of the light as the night passes. Hopefully he rests and heals up. I suppose I could try to sneak in another healing touch, but… He hasn't consented.

In the morning, the sun streamed through the trees and directly into Remus’ eyes, waking him up far earlier than he wanted. He pulled Logan’s blanket tighter around him and buried his face in the pillow.

Reaching over, Logan hums softly, trying to ease him back to sleep. "Shhh…."

Remus hummed at the hand in his hair and on his horns. “When d’you wanna get going?” He murmured.

"Not for a bit. It's just barely starting to lighten up." Stroking more, he smiles softly. "Not light enough for human eyes just yet."

He nodded, and started to respond, only to trail off sleepily. “M’kay,” he managed.

Rubbing over his horns, he smiles softly, getting out a little oil to rub into the chipped surface. "Sleep. I'm watching over you."

“What is that?” He mumbled.

"Oil made from pressed sunflower seeds. It helps skin and nails heal when they're dried out. I use it for when my hands are cracked from overwork. I. thought it might do your horns and hooves some good. May I?"

He blushed and peeked at Logan. “Sure. Not sure how much good it’ll do, but… Sure.” He poked his hooves out from under the blanket and presented his horns, which towered above his head. “Have you been this close all night?”

"I made a small circuit to walk every so often. As it's gotten lighter I can see further though, and you seemed to appreciate it when I was close." Stoking gently, he starts working in the oil with a soft cloth.

Remus hummed happily and stretched out his legs. “Was I talking in my sleep again?”

"A little… It wasn't a language that I know however. You did seem to settle more when I sat nearby. How are you feeling?"

“I’m good,” he mumbled. He sat up and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “We should start packing up camp. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Hand glowing a soft green, he hums. "Very well. So long as you're feeling okay." Finishing up the oiling, he nods. "As soon as we get a little food, sure."

“There should be a town about an hour from here, if you want to get something at a tavern.” He folded up the blanket and bedroll. “Otherwise I can hunt something.”

"Ah, I haven't really been out this way. That tavern sounds lovely." Helping out, he starts putting the fire out.

Remus pulled on his trench coat and mask, then shrugged on his backpack. “I can walk beside you and Juniper.”

"You sure? She can carry us both." Getting the bedrolls attached to her saddle, he hums, sliding on her tack once more.

“I don’t want to impose,” he mumbled.

Reaching over, Logan taps Remus on the nose softly. "It's not an imposition. I offered, if you're okay with either sitting behind me or in my arms in front, we can make faster time? She's faster than either of us."

“Faster sounds good,” he mumbled. “I can be in front if you can drive that way… I’ll keep a lookout for any threats.”

"Sounds good to me, that way you can be warmer too. You could do with some more intact clothes." Offering his arms, he winks. "May I lift you up?"

He blushed and hooked up his pack, then grabbed Logan’s arms.

Settling his own supplies in place, he grins and lifts Remus with a little bounce as he overestimates his weight. "Oh my, you're so light!"

He blushed. “Not- Not that light, no…”

Flexing a little, he grins. "Mmm, toned, definitely. But to my strength, you're light, my dear." Settling Remus in place, he finds a tree and uses it to swing up into the saddle behind Remus safely.

Remus held onto Juniper’s neck, face bright red at Logan’s closeness and warmth.

Grinning, he reaches over to take the reins. "You okay, Remus? You're clinging like… oh, what was that sea creature with all the arms?"

“An octopus? I’m fine.”

"That's it!" Shifting Remus up a little, he hums, easing him to lean back on his chest as he guides Juniper in a slow walk back towards the path. "Just relax?"

“Yeah… Not too much, though. I gotta keep a lookout.”

Logan’s chest was burning warm against Remus’ back, his arms closing him in. When was the last time he was so close to someone? He didn’t think ever.

"That's fair, but at least a little so you don't have to worry about tipping off like a wood plank?" Smiling a little, he chuckles. "Don't want to worry about you falling, hmm?"

“I won’t fall,” he blushed.

"Good…" Scanning the woods, he hums, clicking his tongue to guide Juniper into going a little faster. "Don't want to see you hurt again."

Remus laughed weakly. “Right.”

Letting his fingers stroke over Remus a little in the guise of keeping him steady, he hums. "You're cuter without your blood staining your skin… at least to me."

Remus felt weak. He babbled out something unintelligible, before managing, “Do you save a lot of boys from the brink of death?”

"Not recently… and none quite as cute certainly!" Grinning, he hums, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "It was nice to feel your pulse return under my fingers~!"

Remus leaned back against him, his heart racing. He was in the middle of trying to figure out how to respond when something caught his eye up ahead.

He sat straight up. “Is that a barricade?”

"Hmm? Is it? I could redirect… Or try and jump it. I don't think she'd like that though."

“Don’t. We need to turn around.”

“Stop the horse!” A man demanded from behind them.

"I think that's out…" Kicking Juniper into a gallop, he swerves them to the left, not seeing anyone there even as two crossbow bolts strike the dirt behind them. "Got any ranged weapons, hun?"

Remus snatched his short bow off his bag and knocked an arrow, watching carefully for any sign of movement.

“STOP THE HORSE OR WE’LL SHOOT ITS LEGS!”

"Shit!!" Trying to see where they are and if they're a threat, he leans back a little to give Remus room to shoot as he lets Juniper guide herself, eyes searching for any more bolts. "Where are they?!"

Two more arrows shot off, one narrowly missing Juniper’s ankle and the other flying wide overhead.

Remus’ eyes narrowed as he caught their hiding place. A breeze of fabric swept behind a boulder, a head poking above a dip of land. Two crossbows rested over the cliff.

Remus snatched one of his sickles and dove off Juniper, rolling a bit sloppy but getting to his feet unscathed. Just as he landed, the arrows shot from the cliff. One landed in Logan’s upper arm, the other in Juniper’s side.

Pulling up short with a curse, Logan slides off his horse, turning to place himself between the attackers and his horse. "We're stopped! Stop shooting!”

The bandits, four of them, jumped out of their hiding spots and came closer with their bows. They stood about twenty feet away.

“Drop your bags and you can go,” one commanded.

"What proof have I of that?" Logan frowns, straightening up and using himself as a distraction for Remus, one hand sliding towards his sword.

They all glanced between each other. One of them jerked their bow. “Just drop it! Let’s get this over with!”

“No.” Remus shot his bow and hit a bandit straight in the chest.

He stumbled back with a groan.

"Gary!" One of the bandits steps out 5 feet and shoots at Remus with a shout. Another sighs and decides to take a shot at Logan. "We gave you a chance…"

Logan sidesteps the bolt, stepping in to draw his sword and swing.

The blade sunk into the bandit’s neck, blood gushing forward. The bandit dropped dead.

Remus kicked the second bandit down and brought his sickle through the bandit’s shoulder.

"Very nice!" Whipping his sword to clear the blood, Logan grins.

Seeing how the battle is going the last uninjured bandit turns to flee.

Remus raised his bow and shot, one hoof planted on the bandit’s chest— it sunk into his back, and he fell.

He pressed his sickle to the fallen bandit’s neck. “Are there more of you? Where’s your base?”

Stuttering and stammering, the bandit shakes his head, unable to get a clear sentence out.

Remus pushed the sickle closer. “Answer me or I’ll kill you now and track down your base myself.”

Setting a hand on Remus' shoulder, Logan hums. "Best answer, he means it!"

Gulping, the bandit squeaks. "There's just two more! Up the…" He points up to where there's a clear view of the road coming towards the barricade.

Remus swung, digging the sickle halfway through the bandit’s neck. He turned and stormed forward, leaping over the barricade. There were some shouts, some slices, then Remus reappeared with blood marking his arms and chest. He stared at the ground carefully, walking slowly.

Logan hums, looking up from where he's tending to Juniper, having healed her but only wrapped his own arm. He comes over to Remus, offering a hand. "All set? How are you doing?"

“I’m fine. I’m going after their camp, though. I can meet you at the town.”

Humming softly, he frowns. "I'm coming with, just in case you need backup, or you can meet me at the river. I think we both could use a scrub up."

“I’m not stopping for a bath,” he laughed, stopping to glance at Logan. “They could rob or kill someone else in the next five minutes. Tracks going this way, if you’re coming you’re coming.”

Chuckling softly, he nods, leading Juniper along. "I'm coming, and I meant after the clean up we clean up, before we get to town, dear."

Remus took his other sickle from his bag and ran his hand through Juniper’s mane. “Alright,” he whispered as he followed the tracks. “Uh… Thanks. Sorry for the…” He gestured to himself.

Reaching over, he taps Remus' nose, whispering back. "I'm just glad none of it's yours!"

He laughed quietly. “Really? You’d rather it be…?”

"Mercy where possible, but it should be acknowledged that it is not always possible. There's a reason that I carry a sword. I gave them an option, and they chose violence. I'd rather these few perish as opposed to however many they would harm or kill."

He nodded slowly. “How long have you been out here?”

"I left the monastery, hmm… I believe it was 8 days ago?" Pointing to a fork in the path, he hums, gesturing up.

Remus’ eyes widened. “Jesus. You… Do you have any adventuring experience?” Remus stopped and put a hand on Logan’s chest. “Are you sure you should be doing this?”

"I've been out on expeditions with my fellow monks. We are trained to be wanderers… and I have been on the road with my parents before I joined the order." Smiling, he takes Remus' hand, kissing it. "I am quite capable, my dear, but thank you."

Remus’ face turned bright red. He stumbled over his words for a moment, before taking his hand back and continuing along the tracks.

Grinning, he follows, watching for clues to where the camp is. While Logan didn’t find any tracks, the path they were on was not intentional, made from years of kicking away and flattening foliage. They trudged deep into the woods, silent and crouching the entire way.

Remus saw it before Logan did— Stilts of wood going between trees, a clear barrier. Remus narrowed his eyes and gestured for Logan to wait. Arching an eyebrow, Logan pauses, waiting to see how Remus procedes forward.

Remus misses seeing a wire settled near the ground as he moves forward, only feeling it when it presses against his ankle before it shifts quickly, slicing a little as it pulls a rope around his ankles and a net scoops him up into the trees.

“Fuck!” Remus hissed, scrambling around for his dagger.

There's some rustling in the area where the stilts lead up to, the trap having set off a silent alarm there as well.

Logan curses softly, heading to the area to see if there's a rope he can cut to help lower the net to the ground. "Calm yourself, don't thrash too much, you'll tangle yourself more!"

Remus slashed a hole in the net and it dropped him towards the ground, Logan darting forward to catch him, with a small smile.

"Got you, darling!"

He sets him down carefully, letting Remus get settled with the knife now properly stowed and brandishing his sickles as footsteps raced towards them.

Logan steps in front to shield him from the oncomers, sword out and ready to swing even as he's calling out to the people coming. "Prepare yourselves!"

Remus fought back the blush to focus. A bandit jumped out of the foliage and slashed at Remus with a scimitar, digging into his shoulder and wetting his coat.

Logan curses softly, touching Remus to heal him some with a ki. Stepping in prepares to attack the bandits at the next opportunity. One bandit with green hair kicked Remus away and took another slash, just barely missing. A half-orc stepped out of the foliage to Logan, bow held up. He shot, the arrow nicking Logan’s ear.

A half elf slices out at Logan with his scimitar, slicing into his side and making Logan shout out in pain. Remus growled and snatched his dagger only to throw it, sinking it straight into the half-elf’s eye and taking him down.

The last bandit pales a little, deciding to attack the taller human that they'd gotten a hit on rather than the scary looking black-horned demon, swinging wildly at Logan and missing terribly.

Logan turns, taking two swings at that cowardly bandit, hitting both times and making him choke on blood as he falls to the ground.

The half-orc in the trees shoots another bolt off, and it stuck into the tree above Logan’s head. Remus snarled and whipped around, throwing his hand out.

“You fucking coward!” He snapped, casting vicious mockery.

The bandit flinched and dropped his bow to hold his head, groaning.

"Want to do the honors of finishing the coward off, dear, or let him come down to face us?"

The half-orc reached for his scimitar, stumbling forward with a red face and narrowed eyes. Remus stormed forward and decapitated him with his sickle.

He sheathed them and groaned, holding his shoulder. “Fuck, that hurts.”

Logan frowns softly, reaching over to examine him, using a ki to heal him when he sees the damage.

“Goddamn,” Remus sighed, pressing his forehead to Logan’s shoulder. “How much of that do you got?”

Smiling a little, he gives Remus a gentle hug. "I can do that twice more today."

“I’ll try not to make you need it. I have a greater healing potion for emergencies, so don’t-”

“HEY!”

Remus froze.

“You pieces of shit done yet?!”

“Hide,” Remus snapped, crouching and diving into the foliage.

Freezing a moment longer than Remus, Logan makes for some bushes on the other side of the oath, having to take a moment to find one big enough to hide his bulky frame. Big footsteps fell along the ground.

A goliath bandit captain stepped around their camp, bushy eyebrows knitted into a deep frown. “Hello?” He grunted.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, then snapped them open and sprinted out of hiding.

The goliath whipped around but Remus was faster, slashing the sickle along the goliath’s waist. The goliath hissed in pain, turning to Remus in surprise.

Stepping out, Logan attacks the goliath's back, slicing in deeply with a chuckle. The goliath stumbled away from them, face bright red.

“You killed my men?” He roared. “YOU KILLED MY MEN?”

He grabbed his great axe and charged Remus, his rage steering him wrong and missing wide. Remus jumped out of the way and brought the sickles down on his ankle, both missing.

“Fuck me!” Remus snapped.

"Maybe later, dear?" Logan can't help but quip as darts in to try a hit of his own, missing as well.

The goliath let out an unearthly cackle. “You murder my men and you can’t even get a hit in? Pathetic.”

He brought the greataxe down over Logan’s head. Logan ducked away but the axe still managed to slice through his robes and crack open his leg.

“Logan!” Remus narrowed his eyes, rage bubbling in his chest. He whispered menacing threats under his breath, Adelaide coming in with his own excitable suggestions.

The goliath looked around in panic, his eyes watering. He almost dropped his great axe, then shook himself out of it.

Grinning a little, Logan steadies himself, attacking once he's steady on his feet again with a wide grin, slicing into the goliath's arm. The goliath dripped blood, a steady trail along the ground. He was looking pretty beat up, but was still steady on his feet, grinning.

“You really think you two will walk out of here alive? A human, and a little devil? Defeating me?”

Remus braced his sickles. “I’ve killed more than you before.”

"Together we are stronger than alone!" Logan grins as he watches Remus move.

He glanced around the camp, taking in the mountains of supplies, the barrels and crates that clearly held corpses. He yelled angrily as Adelaide helped him hit, slicing his sickles into the goliath’s midsection. The goliath groaned and gagged as his stomach dropped blood and skin, dropping down to one knee.

Taking a step in, Logan swings twice, eyes hard. "You shall receive your just reward for the life you have lived here."

He looked back at Logan, eyes hard. With the realization that the two unlikely martyrs weren’t going to leave without killing him, a second wind rushed through him. He pushed himself to his feet. He slashed at Logan, opening a large cut in his chest and ripping away some of his robes.

Remus’ eyes landed on Logan, heaving for breath, limping. He rushed over and touched his face, black energy pooling around Remus’ hand and dispersing along Logan’s body.

Leaning into the touch a little, Logan smiles slightly as he steadies, dripping less blood as some of his injuries heal up. "Thank you, dear."

Turning back to the goliath, he frowns, stabbing him harshly. "I liked these robes. Blue is my favorite color."

The goliath howled in pain. He kicked Logan’s weapon away and turned to Remus. The greataxe lodged into Remus’ side. He doubled over as fire erupted along his side, sucking in a breath of pain.

“Fuck,” Remus choked out.

Adelaide’s laughter echoed in Remus’ head. Remus’ eyes glowed red, and purple flames surrounded the goliath.

When they melted away, the goliath laid on the ground, charred to a crisp.

"Wow…" Letting himself sit heavily, Logan laughs softly, a bit dizzy and mesmerized by the colors now that the danger has gone away.

Remus’ red, pupil-less eyes flicked to Logan. He grinned, blood staining his teeth. “You didn’t think I’d let him break my favourite toy, did you?”

Logan's eyes widened and he frowned. That was not Remus. From everything he’d learned from the monks… A demon was speaking to him. "Remus is not a toy. Release him please." Please don't make me fight him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He knows, Logan knows. Don’t make things worse. Please don’t make things worse.

“Don’t whine, darling, it’s unattractive.” Adelaide sighed and straightened up. That same black energy that healed Logan danced along Adelaide’s fingers, pressing it to his own forehead. Some of his wounds closed, but he still looked pretty beat up.

"Frankly, I don't care about being attractive to you. Remus' reaction is my concern. Who are you and why are you here…" Slowly pushing up, he retrieves his sword, using a ki to heal himself in case he has to fight this creature possessing Remus.

The demon laughed. He turned and headed back into the forest.

Where are you taking us?

“You were heading towards that village, weren’t you? We can have some fun. Don’t you miss it?”

Reaching for Remus' hand, Logan hums, gently commanding. "No."

Adelaide turned to him in surprise. “Sorry, was I talking to you? Or would you like to join?”

"I'm not sure what you're planning, but I have intuition that Remus doesn't agree with the plans. I'm standing up for his wishes. You can't just bully him like this." Keeping a firm grip on the dark arm, he straightens up to his full 6' 2" height and hardens his eyes.

A smirk curled over Adelaide’s lips. “And what will you do to stop me?” His voice echoed. “Remus likes it here.”

Stepping in, he hums, other hand sliding over the dark cheek, smearing a little blood. "Well… I'm willing to give Remus a kiss if he comes back. We had planned to wash up after clearing the bandits. I'm sure they have some clothes he could better outfit in."

Adelaide rested a hand on the side of Logan’s face. He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s cute how you think Remus has a choice in this,” he whispered.

His eyes rolled back and he fell.

#far from home #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 185

185

Having Hunk pick him up, Keith knew things could go terribly wrong. He didn’t like loud noises or crowds at the best of times, and now he was going shopping with guaranteed exposure to both. Leaving Lance a note, he told himself he was being stupid for worrying. This wasn’t his first trip into Garrison, but it was his first trip into Garrison since his accident.

Hunk was happy to help. He didn’t question Keith wearing glasses, or why the headphones covering his ears weren’t playing music. Trying to make him feel at easy, his friend chatted about how things had been at garage, with the parts they’d been waiting on finally coming in. Hunk’s dad had been pretty worried about him, Keith didn’t know he’d made so much of an impression.

Garrison seemed so different now. Maybe because it was blurry, but it also carried a different feel about it. The drive seemed shorter too, less bumpy, though Lance needed to get in touch with the shire about fixing the dip in his driveway. Hunk hitting it a little too hard and making them both lurch. Parking in front of the general store, Keith’s anxiety skyrocketed at the task ahead of him.

“Uh, Keith. Are you okay? If it’s too much, I don’t mind going in”

Glancing to his hands, his nails were a little longer than they should be. Hunk had every right to be concerned

“I’m kind of... freaking out now where here”

Honesty seemed to be the theme of the day

“Man, we can totally take it as slowly as you need”

Was he doing the right thing? Coming here without Lance, he hoped to surprise him in a good way

“I know... Hunk, can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, man. You can ask me anything”

“Is Lance going to be mad?”

Hunk hummed

“Not the way you think. I think he’ll be shocked he wasn’t here, but I don’t think he’ll be mad. Unless you do something super bad”

Like wolfed out in the middle of the store? He hated the paranoia that he would

“I... um... had a talk with Coran. About this ego thing. He said it’d help to do nice things with Lance... and... um... I guess I’m worried about that. I don’t know how to tell him that I want to do this for him, and that it’ll help my ego, without upsetting him”

“Dude, you’ve always been doing nice things for Lance”

“But I feel like this is using him to calm myself down”

“That’s one way to look at it. The other way to look at is that you both deserve something nice. You guys don’t exactly have a normal life. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but you know...”

His ego was pleased to hear that he and Lance deserved niceness. Keith still felt guilty

“I don’t want him to think I’m using him”

“Maybe you could tell him? He’d understand”

Lance kept being so understanding that it had to weigh so heavily on his shoulders. The vampire his carer, his stability, and growing their twins. The burden seemed more than unfair

“He’s been too understanding as it is. I just... don’t like feeling like there’s two mes in here. I don’t like the idea of doing something that I know he’ll love, but doing it because it also benefits me”

Hunk patted Keith’s knee

“Bud, you really should tell him. But for now, if you’re going to wolf out, can you please aim for Miss Lee in the bakery department? She’s committed crimes against humanity with her croissants. You could use them for a hammer”

“Sounds about as good as what I’d make...”

“I’ll give you a crash course this afternoon, Bud. It’ll all be okay”

The feeling of this being a horrible mistake grew with Keith’s first breath in the store. He should have worn a mask. Everything was... smelly. The lights seemed way too bright, and his stomach rumbled at the scent of meat department. Not that they really had departments, they just had staff that hovered in certain areas. Retail could only suck as a job. People sucked. His opinion there hadn’t changed much when it came to strangers. Grabbing a trolley, Hunk came to his side

“You okay? We totally don’t have to do this if you aren’t up to it”

Overwhelmed, Keith growled

“What kind of a mate would I be if I can’t provide for my partner?”

Hunk ignoring his growl, staying by his side

“Alright then, we’re going to ignore what happened. Do you have a list?”

Lists were for normal people, they were winging it from here on out

“Not really. I want to get things Lance likes”

Hunk cuffed a hand on his shoulder, gesturing ahead to the rows in front of them as if it was some kind of wonderland

“That I can help you. Just let your best buddy guide you”

Hunk guiding him was an experience. Keith had a hard time keeping his control. The local rumour mill was in overdrive. Lots of busybodies whispering about how since he’d come to town Lance had been seen less and less. Whispers of concern about what kind of person he was hurt. A few had some very unkind things to say about the kind of relationship he was in with Lance. Keith ready to blow a fuse. They knew nothing about him or Lance. Not the true versions of themselves or their relationship. Lance would doing everything he used to be doing if he hadn’t gotten his boyfriend pregnant. He knew his boyfriend missed breakfasts at Sal’s, and normality of running his household as he had. They had no right to be spreading baseless rumours. Unexpectedly, Shiro came to mind. “Patience yields focus”. If he was patient for a little while longer he could focus once they got home.

Shopping the way Lance had driven into him and Shiro, Keith shopped in bulk. Gradually a plan came to mind, but he was going to seriously need Hunk’s help to pull it off. The first meal he’d mostly cooked alone for the both of them was pizza. He’d made a mess of things, yet Lance still complimented him in his own way

“Hunk, I’ve... um... got an idea”

Hunk placed back the bag of onions he’d been staring at

“Shoot away”

“Can you show me how to make pizza from scratch?”

“Pizza? I thought you wanted to spoil Lance?”

Hunk made it sound awful, yet Lance loved cheesy things... He have to save that and use that... cheesy pizza for a cheesy vampire

“I... um... it was one of the first things we made together”

Had this been a cartoon, Hunk would have had love hearts in his eyes

“Oh, bro! I’ve totally got you. We’ll make him the best pizza ever!”

Hunk loved love as much as Lance. He knew he could count on him, but Keith wasn’t sure his own efforts would be up to scratch

“I’m not sure that’s possible”

Hunk snorted at him, picking up another bag of onions to start scrutinising

“Pfft. You’re getting the Hunk crash course. Nothing will go wrong”

As Keith watched the way Hunk stared at the onions, he realised he hadn’t asked the man a very important question

“Hunk, are you okay?”

The bag of onions went back, Hunk picking up another one. Keith wasn’t seeing whatever Hunk was seeing, but he didn’t know the signs or symptoms of a bad onion like Hunk did

“Hmm?”

“I don’t seem to remember a lot of that day... but... I haven’t asked you how you’re going. With... all of this. It’s a lot for anyone”

“You and Lance...”

Keith shook his head. This wasn’t about him and Lance. Hunk and Pidge were humans... he’d been human, but he had a whole other set of skills and years of experience

“That’s not what I’m asking. I know you came to visit me... you and Pidge. I’m sorry I didn’t wake up”

Hunk shifted his weight, free hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck

“Dude, you were in a coma... you have an excuse”

That wasn’t it. He’d failed this hard. A blush in his cheeks as his ego grew annoyed at him

“It’s because of you and Pidge that Shiro escaped and Lance got help. You guys really helped. I know it’s not the same as a fighting a demon, but, um... What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to not be okay. If you feel like you were useless, you weren’t. Watching on the sidelines is hard. We really would have been screwed without you guys”

Placing the bag of onions in the shopping trolley, Hunk let out a long sigh

“It was rough buddy. Lance tried really har to be okay when we came to visit. But he wasn’t. Then Shiro and Lance weren’t talking. We didn’t want to pick sides, and Lance told us not to, but he was crushed. We felt useless. The two of you were prepared to face a demon. We couldn’t do anything like that”

He’d known it. Being unable to act fucking sucked, but he and Lance couldn’t techno-babble like Hunk and Pidge could. They’d have only hindered things

“You don’t have to. And I don’t want you to. You’re important to me. Both you guys”

“None of got it. You were like... fine. Then next thing you’re in surgery and won’t wake up. We thought we’d lose you forever, Bud”

“Do you hate what I’ve become?”

Hunk shook his head, his eyes watery. Hunk really was sunshine in their lives

“No. No, you’re still you. A bit different but a lot the same. Shiro was really torn up. His arm was a mess, Curtis was in and out of it, but he lost it at the thought of you not waking. He blamed himself. He didn’t exactly help things either. I got it out of Allura, but she says that he said he’d take care of Lance. Like in your place if you didn’t wake up. Not boyfriend’s, but you know, like financially. Lance was pissed”

“If there’s one thing Lance hates, it’s being treated like a damsel in distress”

“We were really worried for him. We didn’t know he didn’t know about your condition and they kicked us out because we upset him”

“He cares too much”

Hunk huffed at him

“Dude, we all care too much. We’re family. You’re our family. And like... we didn’t know what to do if you didn’t wake up. He lost Mami... and I know it’s selfish but I prayed you’d wake up so we wouldn’t lose him too”

Lance would be broken if anything happened to any of them

“It’s not selfish. I would have been wishing for the same thing. He loves you guys. I didn’t get it. How he could love and trust. But he just has a way about him. The people he likes, he really likes. He was probably a nightmare to deal with”

“Man, you have no idea. Pidge upset him by saying she was on his side. We couldn’t even... We let him down”

“Hunk, I’m sure that’s not true”

“He came out to tell us you’d woken up... and he... we were so upset that we didn’t move to comfort him. Allura did what we couldn’t”

You never knew how you were going to react to grief or bad news. Hunk and Pidge weren’t used to it. They hadn’t seen what he had, and Allura had

“She is like a sister to him. Thank you for being there for him”

Never shy of a hug, Hunk wrapped his arms around him, lifting Keith off the ground then setting him back down

“Sorry, man! Was that too much?”

A little. Definitely when people were already talking about him...

“Nah. You sure you got the right bag of onions?”

Hunk took a moment, before looking to the bag

“Oh, yeah. Gotta be careful not to get the ones with a rotten onion”

“How can you tell?”

“If they’re brown, or grey, and squashy, they don’t want to come home with you”

But the onions had skin and the skin was brown?

“Onions are brown?”

“My man, for the sake of our friendship, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that”

Keith wrinkled his nose at the bag

“It’s not my fault I don’t know the difference. They smell...”

Hunk didn’t miss a beat

“Yep. They smell delicious with a little bit of olive oil and garlic in a pan”

With three wolves to consider, the shopping trolley ended up overfilled. Matt and Rieva getting minimal treats due to the ongoing saga of the rice. Hunk had helped him find the “self care” part of the isle, Keith grabbing two of each face mask, which sounded more impressive if you didn’t take into account the fact there was only three types to choose from. Hunk also pointed out Lance’s preferred wax for doing his eyebrows, and the hand cream Lance found worked best. With the amount of mating his body wanted to do, Keith stocked up on lube and condoms, then wet wipes for afterwards. After all, Lance didn’t like being crusty. The large half-Samoan a godsend, especially when Keith got caught staring at the meat blood in the bottom of a tray of mince. The blood would probably be worse for Lance than the bags he drank.

Keith hadn’t realised he probably looked weird examining the tray. Yet it wasn’t simply the blood issue that had him staring. He wanted to bury his face in the mince and eat raw, which totally grossed him out. Hunk pulling the tray away from him, giving him such a concerned look that Keith couldn’t not tell him that Coran wanted Lance drinking fresh blood. A little grossed out, but with a truck load of courage, Hunk volunteered his own blood. Lance had drunk his blood before. It’d solve more than one issue... His ego instantly hated the idea. If Lance was to feed off of everyone, it should be him. He was his mate. So turning Hunk down felt both right and wrong at the same time. He hated these conflicted feelings.

Things were going well until they finally reached the queue for the checkout. Having a stranger bump into him, his fingernails turned to claws as he barely kept from body slamming the person down. Realising how close he’d come, Keith was filled with horror. A scratch or a bite and he’d have turned them. Too much rage and he would have mauled them. Who would have stopped him? Hunk? Hunk would be the first casualty after the altercation. His loving ways would have made him blind... or maybe he would have tried to save the victim’s life as Keith tore both of them to shreds... He’d tried so hard to keep his temper. He’d chewed up the inside of his mouth to keep his rage from escaping. The humming of the fluorescent lights above left an unscratchable itch beneath his skin. Fumbling his phone and his wallet out his hoodie, he shoved them both into Hunk’s hands, fleeing before his friend could question if he was okay or not.

Carried by momentum, and the need to be somewhere so many people weren’t, Keith nearly managed to get himself hit as he stepped off the pavement in front of a car that was parking. Darting past them, he didn’t want to be in town in more. He wanted Lance. Too scared of himself to care about the consequences of leaving Hunk behind. He’d been stupid to come to town. To think he would blend in. To think that he had some semblance of control over his ego. Before he knew it, he’d cut through the park in the centre of town, his rushing turning to running. Everyone left him. No one would want to stay with him. Not when he couldn’t control himself.

Lance had spent the better half an hour driving around Garrison in the search for his boyfriend, before he finally found Keith. He’d woken when he’d heard Hunk pull up, the slamming of the passenger door startling out of his sleep. Listening to Keith and Hunk making plans to go shopping, Lance worried for Keith, yet knew if Keith wanted to go he shouldn’t stick his nose in.

Wracking his brains, Lance didn’t know the route Keith too when he’d gone with Matt and Rieva. If Keith was avoiding people, then he wouldn’t be headed to Platt. If anything had gotten too much, he’d want to go where no one went, yet somewhere he knew enough to get home from. Looping through Garrison, Lance hit up all the places they’d visited in their past, each crossed off the list as he cursed himself for his stupidity. People. No people. Hunk had been panicked when he’d called, apologising over and over, Lance sending him to the house to wait with the promise Hunk would call if Keith showed up. Then he remembered. The cemetery. No one was there. And if Keith was feeling down, it was logical, to him at least, he’d go somewhere they’d made good memories to overthink things.

Parking at the front of the cemetery, Keith was sitting sadly on the closest bench. Having to slide out his bronco as he tried to suck his stomach in, it really wasn’t made for a heavily pregnant man to be driving around

“Keith?”

Snapping his head up, tears were running down Keith’s face. In his hands were the pair of glasses Lance had lent him, smashed beyond repair. Going to stand, Keith slumped back down as he let out a sob. Lance’s heart breaking at the sight. He should have just gotten up and stuck his nose in.

Waddling to his boyfriend, Keith looked away, Lance sitting down next to him. No matter how much his little anger loaf was angsting, he wasn’t about to leave Keith to his misery. His boyfriend had terrified him by taking off. He’d been scared to begin with, when Keith hadn’t taken off. He was good at that... but then, so was Lance

“Hey, you”

“What do you want?”

“Me? Oh, just thought I’d come hang out with the other stiffs when I saw this super handsome guy sitting here”

Keith snorted wetly at him. His whole body curling in. Whatever Keith was thinking, he’d well and truly overthought it

“Babe, want to tell me what happened?”

“Why? You already know”

Biting down a sigh, Lance wrapped his arm around Keith, pulling him against him

“Ego or overstimulation?”

Bitterly Keith muttered

“I’m a fucking monster”

“It was your first shopping trip”

“It’s not that! It’s everything! You don’t get it!”

Hurling the broken pair of glasses away, they hit the side of the Bronco. A pretty good throw as far as Lance was concerned

“Then tell me. Hunk said a stranger bumped into you and you freaked out. I’ve spent the last half hour trying to find you”

“You should have left me lost. I’m such a fuck up that it’s not even funny”

This time Lance did sigh

“You are not a fuck up. I know you’re angry right now, but I’m here because I want to be. Tell me what happened?”

Keith huffed as he shoved him off. Getting to his feet, his boyfriend threw his hands up

“What didn’t fucking happen?! I fucked you! I didn’t want to stop fucking you! Coran said that my ego wants to please you! I’m supposed to do nice things for you! I don’t know how to do nice things! Everything feels like I’m fucking using you! I tried to go shopping with Hunk and everyone was rude as fuck! Some fucking arsehole bumped into me and I wanted to tear his fucking throat out! Why don’t you leave me already?! Everyone one else does! What makes you so fucking special?!”

All of it came out as yelled word vomit, Keith trying to get every thought out at once so they were all halted when it came to explanation. How did he untangle this? Keith was mad they had sex? Okay. He could work this out. Keith was feeling what he felt whenever his damn heat hit, or symptoms decided to creep up like the unwanted bastards they were. Keith didn’t like his ego... He knew that. As for people in his personal space, he wasn’t immune to it

“Keith, come sit down”

“Why should I? I wanted to hurt that guy and I don’t even know them!”

Lance looked at “Keith’s Scary Face”. Fangs, yellowing eyes... still handsome and the man he loved. He’d definitely drawn the short straw when it came to scary faces

“You don’t think I haven’t the same? That I welcome people in my space? Someone gets close to you and I want to hurt them. Someone bumps into me and my ego instantly sees them a threat. The fact you didn’t turn, that’s a good sign. It was your first time and you’re not going to get everything perfect on the first try”

“What if I’d lost it? What if hurt Hunk?! You don’t...”

Not this shit again. No. Nope. Noooo. He’d had enough of hearing it. Keith was freaking the fuck out... like he’d never seen Lance freak the fuck out over the same kind of things... His anger loaf needed to be smacked

“I couldn’t possibly get it, could I? I’m well aware. You’ve been repeatedly telling me. The fact you haven’t run off must mean you’re willing to talk, at least with me. Hunk’s at home. You’re making more sense than you think you are, and there’s no one else going to come find us here. Now sit down and start from the start”

Keith scowled at him before sighing heavily and throwing himself back down next to Lance. Taking Keith’s hand in his, he interlaced their fingers so Keith couldn’t go escaping again, his boyfriend shaking his head as he looked to his feet

“I think I’m going crazy”

“Tell me what happened?”

“You. You happened. I felt like I used you yesterday and last night because I was horny and couldn’t calm down. When I rang Coran, he wasn’t much help. He said it’s my ego and it’s probably trying to make it up to you for not spending the moon with you. I know I like doing nice things for you, but he said if I did it’d also help with my ego and I felt like I was using you all over again. I don’t want to do nice things because my ego tells me to. I want to do nice things because I love you”

Lance’s ego damn near swooned. Keith was so sincere in his worry

“Is that why you went to town with Hunk?”

“Coran mentioned that grooming was a thing we could do and I have no idea how to make a face mask or what to do. So I thought I’d get a few things and do some shopping, but it was horrible. Everyone kept whispering about us. The lights were too bright... and there were so many smells”

“Oh, babe. Hey, you can’t help being overwhelmed”

“But... I... I really wanted to do this. And do this right. Hunk helped me out picking things out. Then when that guy bumped into me...”

Lance pulled Keith firmly against him as his boyfriend shook with a fresh wave of tears

“You got scared because of the sudden burst of anger...”

“I don’t know what I was thinking... I’m a monster. I wanted to...”

“Babe. No. Hey. You are not a monster. That was your ego. You couldn’t help it. You should be proud you tried. It took Mami months to coax me into coming places with her. It’s not easy. You see too much. You hear too much. Things smell way too much”

“But you...”

Kissing Keith’s hair, he couldn’t fix this for is boyfriend. He wished like heck he could

“I’ve been a vampire for a very long time. Scents, people, lights, they all still get to me. Especially being pregnant. The paranoia of people staring. People judging. It sucks. It really really sucks. But you know what, they don’t know me. They aren’t my friends so I’m not going to worry about them”

“I hate this. I don’t want to pick fights...”

“I know. Small towns are horrendous when it comes to rumours. And I know you hate what they say as much as I do, but we can work on things to help you get used to everything again”

“We shouldn’t have to. If I’d never had this brain bleed... you wouldn’t have to babysit me”

“Is it still babysitting the person when you love them? Babe, how many times have you told me it’s okay when my heats play up? How many times have we had sex where I’m sorry for forcing my messed up body on you? Every single time you tell me it’s okay. It’s okay that you’re feeling them too. It’s okay to want me. I don’t hate you and I don’t feel used because this is something we’re working through together. Think about all the inappropriate times and places it’s happened. You stood up for me and defended me. You protected me when I couldn’t look after myself. You pushed yourself out of your comfort zone to be with me. Both our egos have issues. You’re not using me. I want to do nice things with you. I want to do things that make you and your ego feel good too. I know you love me and respect me”

Keith raised his head

“You’ve been so tired lately. I felt like I pushed you too much”

If anything Lance was sleeping more because of his pregnancy, not stressing over Keith because he’d been doing that for months now

“I’m tired because I have to get up and pee like 10 times a night. These two seem to think my bladder is their personal trampoline”

“Coran says you need fresh blood... I don’t know if I can give you my blood or if it’s going to hurt the twins”

With how much blood had passed between them, and the biting and the scratching, if anything bad was going to happen to the twins it probably would have happened all ready

“We’ll work something out. You’re taking so much on. Trying to be perfect with everything the first time around. Life doesn’t work like that. I know you’ve been comparing yourself to Matt. Thinking you must be weak because he’s calm, but think about when we first met? Think about how we had to fight to settle both our egos. I’ve been thinking about this just now and I think I’ve worked something out. Coran said to do things to help your ego settle. Matt and Rieva do things too. Rieva takes pride in her appearance and she loves her books. Matt is a tech genius and a tinkerer. That’s probably what they do to soothe theirs. They play on your strengths”

Keith’s head dropped

“What if I don’t have any strengths?”

“You do. You’re kind. You help people. You save lives. But I know you’re not working right now, so maybe you can concentrate on the strength of our feelings for each other? On our family? Vampires don’t take mates, but I already knew I wanted to be with you forever before this. Plus... it’s... kind of nice that you want me, even when I look like this. You make me feel so loved. I just wish you’d see that it’s a two way street. I adore you. You’ve seen me lose it to my ego when you’ve been hurt or threatened. Egos aren’t tameable over night. I know you don’t like taking it slow, but I’ll be right beside you”

“What if I can never go shopping again?”

“You didn’t love it that much in the first place, babe. Never is a strong word. Next time I’ll be with you”

“You can’t always be with me”

“No. But baby steps, babe. I love you. I’m proud to be your boyfriend. That hasn’t changed. This set back, doesn’t change anything. You told me time and time again that I’m not a monster. If you really were a monster, you wouldn’t feel as bad as you do”

Keith chuckled at him

“Have I ever told you how annoying it is that your right most of the time?”

Lance kissed Keith’s hair again. His anger loaf was so sweet

“Yep. You really worry too much. Yes, I’m exhausted, but I’m nervous and terrified too. Every day is a day closer to giving to birth. I’m so scared about being a bad dad, but I know I have the best partner in the world to help me through it. We’ve got time. Let’s not rush it”

“I scared Hunk”

“Maybe, but when we explain and talk things out, he’ll understand. He’s not going to stop being your friend because you’re going through a rough time”

“I got freaked thinking I’d hurt him”

Lance remembered that feeling. He’d never consciously physically harm their friends, yet he could remember every single time he’d scared them

“Tell him that. You helped me be more honest with him and Pidge. You refused to let me give up hope that we’d be friends again after Pidge found out my true nature. You’re my rock. I would love to do things with you. And I love the things we do. I don’t think you know, but I love snuggling into you when we’re watching a movie. We don’t have to be talking. Just having you alive and beside me, it makes me really stupidly happy. You make me happy”

Keith finally moved to hug him properly, raising his head his boyfriend pressed a kiss to his lips. Lance would happily take every single kiss from Keith until they were old and wrinkled... if he got old and wrinkled...

“You make me happy too. I’m sorry about the accident...”

“It was freak thing”

“I feel like I should known the lingering headache wasn’t a good thing”

“You didn’t know. I’ve replayed that over and over in my head. How one incident could nearly take you away. All I can come up with is that you’re not as thick headed as you like people to think”

“At least it’s... um... confirmed I have a brain”

“You have a very nice brain. And a very nice rest of you”

Tentatively, Keith joked back

“You’re not too bad for a corpse”

“And you’re not too bad for a dog”

Keith huffed, ego ruffled

“I’m a wolf”

The more Keith said, the more comfortable he’d be. Lance prepared to start googling good werewolf jokes for the future, but for now he was happy Keith was smiling

“And a very charming one at that. You’re quite beautiful as a wolf in a scary kind of way”

“What do I look like?”

“You’re big and black... and clumsy. You’re a bit like Kosmo, your paws are massive, but you’re still very soft”

“Coran said I came to find when I’d turned”

“You did. You sat outside and cried and cried. You were so clumsy that I thought you were hurt”

“I couldn’t have been that bed”

“Think of Kosmo when he had his thermometer up his butt. He was all stiff legged and looked like he’d never recover”

Keith groaned

“I can’t even be a manly werewolf”

“Nope. Still, you got there. I’ll have to take a photo next time... maybe I can try grooming you too?”

Keith rolled his eyes

“I’m not a dog, babe”

“Excuse you. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent groomer. We can put a bow in your hair... I wonder if they make onesies for wolves...”

Keith frowned with a pout. Lance stealing a kiss. If the Blades didn’t want their agents teased they should have thought about that before assigning them all onesies to wear. The realisation hit him, a giggle escaping. Arching an eyebrow at him, Keith didn’t seem amused

“What?”

“Kolivan. Babe, all these years... Kolivan has been running around in a onesie!”

Personally Lance found it hilarious. Stoic, somewhat scary, straight-laced Kolivan... in a onesie. Covering his mouth, Lance’s giggle turned to laughter. Keith tried to resist the urge, but obviously now the thought was in his head and he couldn’t get it out

“That’s terrible! Babe... noooo”

“It’s still true! Oh my god... I wonder if they know?”

“It’s not a onesie, it’s a suit”

Kolivan in a onesie that looked like a suit... Lance shook with laughter... shit, now he needed to pee. Fanning his face, he tried to suck down a breath

“Time out! Time out... oh god... I have to pee”

“You did it to yourself”

“I know. Okay, I’m sorry, but unless you want me to pee right here, we’re going home”

“You could pee on the side of the road?”

“And I could pee on your foot. You can drive. My car hates me”

“What did it do?”

“It’s too much like effort to get behind the steering wheel... I don’t need something else trying to make me pee”

“So I shouldn’t tell you I wanted to make pizza for dinner? A cheesy pizza for a cheesy vampire”

That was sweet rather than funny. Keith was very sweet to him.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose #pregnant lance #mpreg #werewolf keith #vampire lance #klance #laith

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cherryblossomflowers · 3 years

Text

DDD #15

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and YN find a dog roaming the streets, take it home, and are trying to figure out what's wrong with it.

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Cursing, Slight Depression

A/N: Week 15 is here! Who remembers Dog Dean Afternoon? Hint, hint! Make sure to check out @mlovesstories drabble and her masterlist. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

Dynamic Duo Drabbles Masterlist

“The dog sniffed his owner's hand and then said to him, 'Hello, my name is actually Rufus, not Buddy...'"

While taking a nice Sunday drive in the Impala, Dean and YN see a dog walking down the side of the road. Dean pulls the car over to the shoulder and puts it in park.

"What are you doing?" YN asks.

"I just want to make sure it's okay," Dean says as he opens the car door.

YN watches him cross the street and calling the dog to him. She steps out and watches Dean whistle at the dog to get it to come to him.

Eventually the dog walks over and sniffs Dean's hand. Dean pets it a few times and looks for a collar. When he doesn't see one, he picks up the dog and walks back to the Impala.

YN chuckled, "Let me guess. We're taking the dog with us?"

Dean nodded, "You said you've always wanted a dog, YN."

"I'm pretty sure I said puppy dog. Not a full grown dog."

"But look at him. He's still pretty small for his size."

"So it's a boy?" YN smirked, "Congrats, Dean."

He rolled his eyes, "Hardy har har."

Dean opened the backseat and helped the dog inside. He and YN climbed back into the Impala and continued down the road.

Every once in a while, Dean would look in the rearview mirror at the dog. The dog laid perfectly still in the backseat. He seemed to be sleeping and would take long, deep breaths.

"You think he's okay?" Dean asked.

YN looked in the backseat, "I don't know. I've never seen a dog sit that still before," she turned back to Dean, "Too bad we can't just communicate with him."

Dean smirked, "That's what you think." -------------------- Once Dean and YN were back at the bunker, Dean carried the dog inside while YN looked for something they could use for a bed and a collar.

Dean laid the dog down on an old pillow and YN tied a piece of rope around it's neck. YN went into the kitchen and got him a bowl of water, hoping he'd drink something and feel a bit better.

Unfortunetly, the dog just laid still once more.

"If you can trust me, I have an idea," Dean suggested.

YN gave him a nervous look, "Okay?"

Dean ran off to the hallway while YN stayed with the dog. She sat down next to him and started petting him lightly.

She smiled, "You're a good boy, aren't you? We're going to have to think of a name for you."

"How about Buddy?" Dean said as he ran back into the library with a book and small box in hand.

"That's very ordinary, don't you think?" YN made a face at him.

Dean shrugged, "Well, it's better than nothing. We can't just call him dog forever."

He sat a rather large book on the table and sat down in the chair. When he opened the book, he scanned page after page, looking for a specific spell.

After a moment, he pointed at a page, "Here. An Inuit spell."

"A what?" YN asked as she walked over to him.

"It's a spell to be able to communicate with animals," Dean replied as he walked into the kitchen, "Like a human/animal mind meld. Or reading thoughts."

YN looked at the dog, "It won't hurt Buddy, right?"

Dean walked back into the library, "No, it won't hurt Buddy," he bent down and plucked a hair from the dog's fur, "Okay, that might've hurt a little. But the spell won't."

YN watched as Dean mixed together ingredients he grabbed from his room and the kitchen. Whatever concoction he was creating looked disgusting. She just hoped she didn't have to drink it.

Dean held up the glass, "Gross, right?"

YN nodded, "Nasty."

In one large gulp, Dean downed the disgusting liquid and groaned, "It definitely tastes as bad as it looks," he looked down at the book and read from the page, "Deila hér me. Dag eru nou rar vitur orum."

The two sat in silence for a moment, looking between each other and the dog. YN was starting to think the spell wasn't going to work.

"Give it time," Dean said as if he was reading her mind, "It takes a minute to kick in."

YN walked over to the dog and sat next to him, "I just hope he's okay."

Dean stood from his seat and sat next to the dog as well, "We'll be able to figure out what's wrong with Buddy soon. I promise."

The dog sniffed his owner's hand and then said to him, "Hello, my name is actually Rufus, not Buddy..."

Dean stared at the dog wide eyed, "Whoa, that was quick."

YN grabbed Dean's hand, "What? It worked? What's he saying?"

"He said his name is Rufus," he answered.

"Rufus? Damn, Buddy was growing on me," YN crossed her arms.

"Really? You think Buddy is better than Rufus? I pity what you end up naming your children," Rufus said.

Dean chuckled, "Ouch."

"What? What's he saying?" YN asked.

"Nothing, nothing," Dean smirked.

YN grabbed the water bowl and moved it to Rufus, "Can you ask him to drink something?"

Dean turned to Rufus, "How about it, Rufus? You thirsty?"

Rufus shook his body, "Nah, not in the mood for it."

"He said he didn't want it," Dean told YN.

"See if you can figure out what's wrong with him," YN suggested.

Dean turned to the dog, "Rufus, you've been acting weird since we picked you up from the street. What's up?"

Rufus whimpered as he laid back down, "My best friend. He went off somewhere a while back and hasn't returned. I left my home to search for him, but I don't know where he is."

"He said his previous owner is gone. He's been looking for him," Dean explained to YN.

YN sighed and pet Rufus, "Poor thing. He must be so sad."

Dean scratched Rufus' head, "Judging by how skinny he is, I bet he's been searching for a long time. Who knows what happened to his previous owner."

YN thought for a moment, "Did you have a collar, Rufus?"

"No," Rufus answered, "My best friend couldn't afford one."

Dean shook his head at YN, "I'm starting to think maybe his previous owner was homeless."

That statement pulled at YN's heartstrings, "Rufus, you can stay with us if you want. If not, we completely understand. But we'll feed you and take you for walks and play fetch."

Rufus wagged his tail in response, "I do like walks."

Dean smiled, "I think you hit the nail on the head there, YN."

Rufus jumped up on YN and licked her face, causing her to fall backwards in a fit of laughter. Dean started laughing as well as he watched YN and Rufus bond.

"Who's a good boy, Rufus? Huh? Who's my good boy," YN said while scratching Rufus's stomach.

Rufus barked at her, "Me! Me! I'm the good boy!"

Dean smiled at the two, "Welcome to the family, Rufus."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @smollestbean-2 @kitwithnokat

@idksupernatural @desiredposion @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma

@spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@emery--nicole--morrison @spnfamily-j2 @akshi8278 @avocadogirl216

@imthedoctorlove @wecantgiggleitsafandom

#supernatural #SPN #Dean Winchseter #Dean #Dean x Reader #dean winchester x reader #cherryblossomflowersDDD #mlovesstoriesDDD

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metanoiamorii · 3 years

Note

Writingamongthecoloredroses: Kiss #5, for whoever you choose?

I'm so sorry it took forever, @writingamongthecoloredroses. But it's finally here!

♧ Title: Dragonfly, since I'm not creative

♧ Part of which wip: Coming Home

♧ Word Count: 6k

♧ Synopsis: To go to market with Liraz, En and Moro promise to teach Liraz magick.

♧ Warnings: its criminally cute, you get some lore, it's rather long, Liraz does kiss En without consent but it's fine in the end, and the three are just honestly a goal. It's rather light and fluffy. And I mean, En threatens to burn nosey townfolks faces off for making the attempt to flirt with Moro. But that's it.

Coming Home taglist: @unholieds, @zielenbloesem

General taglist: @endlesshourglass, @makeitmonstrous, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words,

On both: @hazard-writes, @notugalan, @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake

If you'd like to be added or removed from any, feel free to send in a message!

Send in a number and I'll most likely just write the cottage witch and her two eldritch idiots!

Liraz moves across the front porch, her footsteps are quiet and light, to not be a disturbance. She takes a seat on the top step, hands at her lap pushing down and evening out her dress. She doesn't speak, not for a while. She sits and she watches.

En doesn't glance back, doesn't acknowledge her presence. It's almost as if they don't recognize she's there. Which is fine. They sit, a step in front of her, staff slung over their lap. That gnarled staff, of koa wood and fire opals. Or so, she has always assumed. It appears as such to her, so she had assumed. She never asked in the past, it never came up in conversation. She kept assuming, it never hurt to.

Watchung as En fiddled with their staff, Liraz shifts to lay her elbows to her knees, and soon plops her cheeks between her palms. She's not sure what they're trying to accomplish, and she has learned well to never question En. She watches. She bemuses herself with the possibilities. Is it akin to her spellcrafting? Repairing the staff? Meditation? There were so many possibilities!

Finally, she caves. Unable to suppress the urge to keep her hands in her lap, her lips pressed tight together. Over their shoulder, from behind, Liraz is leaning forward. A hand raised from her lap, she moves to touch the fire opal gem. Even without her fingers on the gem, when she leans forward she can feel the heat emanated; it's warm, like En... Before her fingers graze against it, her wrist is snatched and the staff is dropped, and it tumbles down the few steps left before it lands on the ground and stays there.

Wide eyed, Liraz looks between the staff and then to En, who holds her wrist tight. Their eyes are narrowed into their usual scowl, lips pulled thin and a hint of annoyance upon their brow. They aren't happy. They aren't happy she tried to touch their staff.

"My... Apologies." She has to take in a breath, to push the apology out. She needs to find the nerve to speak, when the entity before her can strike fear deep into the marrow of her bones. "I was... Only curious abou—"

En softens their hold and lowers her hand back down. They release their grip, as they push themself to sit back, on the step she's sitting on. This time, they pick up her hand and hold it with more care, inspecting it. "You would have melted your fingers."

Liraz blinks, once, twice. She focuses on how gently En attends her, like she's Moro. It's not... Unpleasant. Simply... New, different. They haven't acted so before with her. "The... fire opal looked so beautiful..."

"Tis'nt fire opal." En murmurs quietly. Content that she's unharmed, they lift her hand to press a kiss against the wrist, before they lower her hand down to her lap.

"Oh..." Liraz looks down to where the staff sits in front of the porch. Her brow furrows as she studies it once more. It looks so akin to fire opal... What was it? What is it?

En slips from the steps, while she's preoccupied in her thoughts. They kick themself to their feet and stride down the steps. To their knees they drop, pick up the staff, dust it off and twirl it within their palm as they rise to their feet. Back, they come; they climb the steps and return to the spot they had sat in for the better part of the morning. The staff is slung back over their lap, they recline back to rest their head against her knee.

Knowing her curiosity would get the better of her, to prevent acts of idiocy, En sighs. "Fire agate, fire opal, garnet— it is perceived by your kind with the power you harness, your souls incarnate."

"... Oh." It. They referred to it as it. What is It?

Knowing her mind, En continues. "The fire all desire to claim, that in which can set all aflame, it has the capacity to set your own gifts to shame, none before have been able to tame..." As they speak, eyes closed and breathing even, the staff in their lap glows. The gemstone, that still appears as fire opal, turned from a gentle amber to burn with the intensity of the flame of a forest fire.

The display of power always brings on a... perhaps it is jubilation, the word Liraz seeks. A taste of it and she wants more. Capable of kindling a fire that cannot be stopped until they will it, the being at her side is dangerous and she knows it. And... as humorous as it is, she plays with this fire, despite the warning sides.

"Does it have a name?"

"Yes."

Liraz does not ask her next question. She knows she will have an answer. She shifts, to test if she may rest a hand against En's hand... she may. She feels the scarlet hair they take in this form; it is to her surprise where she expects to be met by bristles to rival a porcupine, it is like velvet or silk and she yearns to run her fingers through the waves. They do not stop her.

'What do you call it?'

It lingers in the air as Liraz tests her boundaries and plays with En's hair. They sit contently at her side, with the flare that was instigated to show by the staff dimming. With a breath exhaled, En answers. "By your kind, named the Unyielding Blaze."

The Eternal Flare.

The Infinite Spark.

The Imperishable Inferno.

Like the names they hold, so did the powers they hold share.

Liraz eyes the staff, full of disbelief. "That is the Unyielding Blaze?"

"A piece." A small piece. It could not compare to the true thing.

"Is it similar with Mor—"

"Yes. His staff is the Unyielding Rime."

Lacking the words to express how she felt, Liraz exhales. She shakes her head but wears a bright smile. "... Fascinating."

"Hm." En opens their eyes as they exhale. A hand raises from their side, they brush their hair behind their ear and kick themself back to their feet. Opposed to dropping the staff once more, as it is pushed into the air by En standing, it disappears into a plume of smoke and embers. They turn, to start into the door of the cottage. "We should begin breakfast."

"Oh." Liraz looks up, to where the suns have now risen. No longer too early, the moons claiming the sky. The suns burn bright. She was so engrossed in the conversation she hadn't paid attention to the time. She pushes herself to her feet quickly, brushing off her dress. Halfway to her feet, she accepts the hand gestured back to her, in silent invitation.

"Thank you."

She murmurs quietly, accepting the hand and twining their fingers together. She knows she will get no answer, she still shows her gratitude. Hand in hand, they walk into the cottage together. En doesn't let go until they're in the kitchen.

"Go wake Moro." They say, moving to collect the loaf of bread, the carton of eggs, bacon, and fruits.

Not having to cook, Liraz gladly leaves the task to En and leaves the kitchen. She ventures to the bedroom, where Moro is still in bed, curled up with her familiar.

"Blodeu~." She cooes gently and the owl stirs. He chirps and ruffles his feathers, he squirms until he's free of the embrace he has been held in and flies to her shoulder. Liraz chuckle, scratches beneath his chin. Without haste, she sends him go the kitchen, to keep En company.

In time, she rouses Moro. It takes time, to wake him, to get him out of bed, to dress and get ready for the day. Persistent today— Liraz knowing it's futile to argue with the entity— she allows him to wear one of her dresses. He looks amazing in it, so truly there is no harm in it. She helps him, knowing it could be a hassle to figure out the blouse and the skirt. Knowing En would enjoy the privacy of the kitchen while cooking, they both take their time in the bedroom. They find red ribbons to match the skirt together, Liraz braids his silver locks into pigtails and ties them off. He looks cuter than her, she's almost envious... But it's his charm. When they finish, she pecks his cheek and he's already out of the bedroom to go show En his outfit for the day. She follows close behind.

As they come stumbling into the kitchen, the table is set, plates are full, cups sit ready to sip from. En has already cleaned the mess made with plates and silverware and sits at the table. They only get up to pull out the chairs for the two and push them back in. En never eats, but Moro enjoys the human cooking and eats with Liraz. En sits with them for the company, the show of support. It's appreciated. Over breakfast they talk... well, Moro talks, both En and Liraz listen. Moro goes on to talk about the dream he had, which Liraz always finds fascinating. They don't dream like she did. Their dreams are like memories of the past.

This particular dream that Moro talks about is the time En and himself got lost in a maze. The Catacombs, he referred to it as. Finally annoyed, not being able to find their way through it, En simply blew a hole in several walls! Moro is giggling like a child as he recalls the events. Liraz snickers with him, she can completely see it all as truth with how intimately she has been able to know these two. En doesn't look amused by the recount, sitting the entire time scowling, but the two of them see the twitch of the corner of their lips and know it's fine.

When they finish, Moro sits on the countertop, kicking his feet and gladly still rambling. Liraz helps En clean the table, she dries the dishes as En washes them. Moro is able to be distracted from the topic at hand long enough they begin to discuss the plan for the day. It's Liraz that talks, after En instigates with an offhand comment, and Moro keeps it alive with his inquiring questions. Boring errands she has to run. They need more supplies, so that means going into town. She never fancies it, as it's always boring and tiresome. She also talks of the ingredients she needs for her spells: her wards and charms, offerings too.

Through her own rambling, Moro finally suggests the two join her. To make it more interesting! Funner, he uses and Liraz cringes... She doesn't have the heart to correct him, she chooses instead to live with it. She is hesitant about it at first, until En finally bargains with her. The two go back and forth, in a serious discussion of the pro and cons of the two coming with her:

She will have company, yes.

The people already suspect she is a witch, them coming with her will further paint that image.

If anyone tries anything, they will be there to protect her.

Yes, but they... Did not understand their own powers. They were... She didn't say unhinged, not with the way En looked at her.

Finally, what seals the deal is that En gives their word that they would teach her some magick. True magick. Their magick. Liraz simply cannot pass up the opportunity.

So, she finishes the dishes so En can go get ready. Moro keeps her company, to not drag out the endeavor of leaving the cottage. She's ready enough, with her simple dress and hair loosely braided down her shoulder. Sure, she may throw on an apron and a sun hat, but she has no need to change, nor to 'doll' herself up like the other ladies in town.

En returns shortly. They're quiet and stand a few feet behind. It's Moro that gives them away, unable to stay quiet for too long. He's all giggly, as En genuinely smiles for once, shaking their head. Liraz turns to greet them, and she drops the plate. It's the rare occasion En smiles, and by the gods she almost didn't recognize them. Not with how neatly their hair was brushed and braided. Dressed in the loose blouse and trousers without a care in the world. It's ruggish, but.... it was fitting. She knows she's staring, but she can't look away.

"Fool." En calls her, already moving forward. They kneel in front of her, picking up the shards of glass from the broken plate. They dispose of the shards carefully.

"Let's add a plate to the list!" Moro giggles, eyeing the two with a wide grin across his face.

Liraz shakes her head. She takes a moment to close her eyes, breathe, collect herself. "Let's leave, yes? It's already nine, I would like to be back before dark."

"Why do I not—"

"No magick!" It's her requirement. "We are all human for a day."

"Humans are weak." En mutters quietly, but relents.

As Liraz grabs her baskets, En moves back to the bedroom. They snatch up two hats, and when they're all out the front door, they plop a hat respectfully onto Liraz and Moro's heads. Three steps from the cottage, En is walking in between the two, holding their hands. They don't oppose, they don't fight it. They accept that they will walk in the middle, and as the one wearing trousers today, they will hold the hands respectfully. It is a sacred duty, one they take with the utmost seriousness.

They take their time on the walk into town. They enjoy the nature of the mountain, and the light conversation carried between the three of them. It's early Yj'lento, everything is in bloom, the weather fair, what is there not to appreciate? They don't make it to town till after noon. From there, En and Moro relent and allow Liraz to take the lead.

Liraz leads the way through town, now walking center. She holds each of their hands and pulls them through the town. Many gawk and stare, they whisper when they believe the three are out of earshot. No, many don't give attention to Liraz, but to the company she is with. The small and pretty porcelain like doll, and the gentleman who could have been hand carved by the deities. Most watched from a distant, lacking the nerve to approach and say something. The few men that approach Moro, En narrows their eyes and gets very affectionate; very few do En have to get vocal and tell to 'piss off if they value their faces'. The few women that try to approach En are easily diverted by Moro getting closer, louder, and acting very childish to hold En's attention.

Liraz finds it amusing, at how overprotective they are of each other. She never intervenes, she trusts the two to abide her one requirement. They know their limits, and they handle it pretty well. Is she offended that all the townsfolk are drawn to these two? No. Even she was drawn to them. They weren't... normal. They weren't something you saw every day. She wouldn't fault them, not when she did the exact same thing they did.

When they had enough of the attention, or when she could tell En was more annoyed than usual, she pulls them off into a random direction. They would go to smaller stalls, she would have them help her pick out herbs and gems for her craft. Sometimes she would hand some money to En, or Moro, a few coins and have them go buy something off the list... Or, Moro would find something that caught his attention and he would instead buy that. En could haggle well, almost too well and didn't pay a dime.

They had, at the very least, kept their word. This trip into town was, in fact, fun. They kept her company, their company always was interesting. It's a hasty decision, but Liraz decides they should have a picnic. Sure it's a late picnic... but she's discovered there's something special about staying up late with these two. Shopping takes longer for the necessary and extra supplies, but it's worth it. With everything bought and errands done, they take their leave back to the mountain.

They follow the main-road as long as they can, before they divert into the woods. The path is steep, with wildflowers and fallen branches and logs. They make the most of it. En will cross over first, extend a hand and help the other two over; a few times, before they step down, En will snatch them by their waist and pull them forward, spinning on the heels. It leads to laughter and jests. Liraz points at familiar areas and explains the sentiment she holds for them. At one point, when En carries the basket, Moro grabs Liraz by her wrist and drags her to one of the old trees she's pointed out. He pushes her behind the tree, leans in close... they're both too giggly to actually kiss.

The three soon, through their games and antics, find their way to the lake. It's beautiful, with the wildflowers in full bloom and the vast green trees that mark the perimeter. Liraz leads the way down to the bank, to a spot they can sit. She's unfolding the blanket and throwing it down, as En is knelt over digging the supplies from the basket. The two sit on opposite sides of the basket, as Moro is already down in the water.

Liraz sits, having conversations with Blodeu, with her grimoire open. Some are notes she makes, others are drawing. En sits reclined, hat tipped over their face, and for a few moments Liraz believes they truly are asleep. Perhaps they are. But whenever a motion is made too close or near, they stir and are wide awake. Moro plays in the river, converses with the locals and tries to get either Liraz or En to join him. They eat when they want to, they're in no hurry to hold home. Nothing waits for them there. They're all here.

It's peaceful. It's quiet. It's... nice. Liraz enjoys it, she knows she made the right decision. They had been stuck in the cottage all Ial'vyala, due to the snow... it didn't help either Moro would steadily bring on more. It made him happy, however, to play in it and drag the two with him. The snow has passed, it is time for the gentle heat and rebirth of life.

Time is lost between them, as they sit on the bank of the river. The only things that travel here are the locals: some deers, foxes, bears, fellow owls, and other critters. No people. Nobody travels this deep, not with the rumors of the witch who lives here. Liraz doesn't mind. It means she has all of this to herself. No, she doesn't mind sharing it with Moro and En. Anyone else? Perhaps.

Brought to peace, the longer they sit together, Liraz closes her grimoire and sets it aside. She goes to lean back, using an arm as a pillow, but instead she reclines back onto the warmth that's En. She turns to look at them, but En refuses to meet her eyes and stays staring at the sky. For a being of heat, it's amusing, she ponders, able to see the light blush that flusters across their cheeks. She doesn't oppose, she doesn't raise a fit. She adjusts herself and curls into their side, head resting on their collarbone.

The arm goes around her waist and they lay there together, until Moro decides he wants to be part of it too. He, not too quietly, settles on the blanket on the other side of En. He forcibly picks up the arm, wraps it around himself, and cozies into the unoccupied side. He giggles the entire time, like he's getting away with it, like it's the perfect crime.

En deliberately ignores him, allows him his antics.

Liraz peers open an eye, after a moment. "Having fun?" She asks, voice soft and a gentle giggle in her own tone. How can she not laugh when Moro is? It's part of his charm.

"Mn-mhm!" Moro continues to giggle. He shifts, to hide half of his face against En's chest, to hide the shit-eating grin plastered on his cheeks. He looks across only at Liraz, ignoring En as if they didn't exist.

Liraz giggles more. Where she lays, she shakes her head, or at least she tries. She closes her eyes, a bemused smile on her face.

Eventually, Moro's giggling ceases. It's quiet enough Liraz dozes off, laying there she's able to take a nap. Moro falls asleep too, she knows it even if she doesn't see it. If Moro is laying down with En, anywhere, he will fall asleep if left alone long enough. If En falls asleep or not, Liraz never knows. They lay there, with Moro and Liraz as they sleep, which is more than enough.

En stirs them both awake, some time later. A soft jab in the ribs, a pat to the thigh. 'Come on' being huffed with a tone of affection. Liraz grumbles in disappointment, stirs closer. Moro follows suit.

Knowing the two aren't getting up, En persists. "I cannot teach you magick if you aren't awake."

Liraz stretches out. A wide yawn is released. When she appears to sit up, she scoots closer. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow I will change my mind." It's a lie.

"Then I'll be disappointed tomorrow." En shakes their head and accepts the fact, the day has ended. These two aren't waking up. Liraz falls back asleep shortly after that.

She wakes in her bed, curled up with Moro. She knows the hint of ash and embers in the air, En used their magick to bring them home. They're nowhere to be seen, she hears the chittering of Blodeu from the kitchen and the clacking of pans. En is cooking breakfast. She closes her eyes, scoots into bed, and pulls the blanket close. She falls back asleep until En wakes them both and drags them to the table.

Breakfast today is quiet. Liraz is still groggy from waking up. Moro is still half asleep, dozing off in between bites. En sits, wide awake, encouraging them to eat and chitter. When it's apparent they won't be talking, En snickers and leaves the table. Blodeu sits on their shoulder, and the two have their conversation as En cleans the kitchen and dishes while Liraz and Moro fully wake up.

It's by noon, when they leave the cottage together. Liraz remembering the promise, she persists and persists and persists, until En huffs and agrees they will do magick together. Liraz dresses simply in a lavender dress and brings a shawl; she ties her hair back, so it's out of the way. She doesn't bother with shoes, she prefers being barefoot, she's closer to the earth. Always, Moro dresses in red with a simple blouse and trousers; it's for easier movement. En dresses similar to Moro, except they wear blue.

They venture back down to the lake. It's something special. Liraz tries to convince En to use magick, to transport them there to save time, but they refuse. A more subtle grin upon their face as they roll their eyes, insisting they walk. It's not as carefree as yesterday. They aren't running and hiding between the trees, or dancing upon the leaves-covered path, or even making jokes. They're quiet, they enjoy nature, and revel in having one another's company.

They don't return to the spot they sat yesterday. They're further away from the river, closer to the woods. They find an open space that works for them.

Before Liraz can speak, En is taking the grimoire from her hands. They resist the urge to burn it in demonstration, knowing how much it meant to her. Calmly, they place it on the ground out of the way.

When they're walking back, Liraz stands with her brow furrowed. "What was that—?!"

"Magick will not come from books." En cuts her off before she can finish. "The only thing you must have is yourself, present and accounted for."

Liraz wears a sullen face. She knows better than to protest or fuss. This isn't witchcraft she's learning. This is raw and uncontrolled magick, pulled directly from the source. She would listen and she would learn.

Knowing her mind, En rolls their eyes. "You would prefer a demonstration first."

Although it isn't voiced like it, Liraz knows it's a question. She knows their mind as well. They were asking if she wanted a demonstration. Which, she would.

Gently, she nods her head. "Please."

En looks away from her, their attention diverts to Moro. "My Frost—"

"Of course~!" He chimes with a giggle. He moves from where he stands, bouncing on his heels and skipping. Where his feet touch the grass, even if the weather's fair and everything is in bloom, a soft sleek of frost forms to cover the flowers and the grass.

It continues, until Moro stands in front of En. His arms folded behind his back, a bright, gleaming smile upon his cheeks. The air around them has cooled, frost covers the field, and the river has begun to freeze over. Liraz tips back her head, amazed by the sudden change in climate, to see the snowflakes that fall from the now cloudy sky.

This.

She can feel it, in the air around her: the earth weeps for it is no longer warm, the suns veiled behind the clouds cry in despair that something— someone— can overpower them and negate their own powers, the flowers mourn for their swift beginning and cold end; the snowflakes dance in joy of returning, the cool air that surrounds them sings in delight and joy, the clouds ask if it's fair or if they... No, if she would like the sun back.

This isn't like the magick she can possess, the things she may do. This doesn't feel like magick. It feels... It's hard to express. It feels old and ancient, and it's... It feels like it belongs.

She revels in it. Sure, it is cold. It's freezing. But she closes her eyes, inhales her breath and exhales a plume of fog in front of her face. She giggles like a girl. Her attention diverts from the sudden snow and frost brought on, back to where the two stand.

"My Eternal Frost, My Northern Winds, My Unyielding Rime, My Imperishable Blight, My Infinite Verglas, My Darling Ice," En exhales, leaning forward with bended knees. There's a soft smile on their cheeks, as they press a chaste kiss to Moro's lips. "Thank you."

"My Eternal Flame, My Southern Winds, My Unyielding Blaze, My Imperishable Inferno, My Infinite Ice, My Most Cherished Fire—" Moro giggles back, as he leans forward on his toes and pecks a kiss back "— You are most certainly welcomed~!"

Liraz watches with a smile full of endearment at the display of affection. It's... Something that cannot be replaced, or replicated. Their feelings are genuine for one another.

Her thoughts are cut short by the sudden rise in temperature. The clouds dissipate and the suns return. The grass is soft and full of warmth once more. The flowers spring back, in full bloom and the lake runs a beautiful blue. It is as if the sudden blizzard never happened. Yes, the snow now has sings in despair and the snowflakes dance in sadness, but it is the turn of the suns to greet the day and the flowers to dance with the warm breeze.

Once more, Liraz appreciates this display. The change in climate and how warm she feels in her own skin, that feeling she has to dance through the grass and to run down the hills to dip her feet in the lake. It reminds me of the first day Yj'lento came.

It is with that, the focus returns to Liraz, and teaching her.

"How... How did you do THAT?!" Liraz glees, her eyes are sparkling with intrigue and joy.

"It's easy!" Moro answers with a shrug. "We simply... We just... We..."

As Moro is scratching his cheek, En shakes his head. "An explanation of words would leave something to be... Desired?"

Liraz pouts. She understands, but at the same time... She's surprised once more by the hand placed on her shoulder, as another goes to her hip, as En moves around her and stands in the empty space behind her. Gently, she is urged to lower her shoulder and ease her posture. En leans forward with their head resting against her shoulder.

"Breathe." En commands in a tone that's gentle, far too gentle for them.

Liraz takes in a deep breath and exhales. She settles back, to lean against them. It's a moment of trust, through the teaching.

"Close your eyes."

Liraz closes her eyes upon command. There is no hesitation. There is no need for it.

"Now—" En's voice is low, it tastes of brimstone and something ancient, it should strike fear into her heart but rather she is soothed by it, she finds comfort in it. "— You are a child of the Sky. The Dame of the Winds breathed their life into your lungs. Even now, when you focus, you can hear them whistling the breeze. Closing your eyes, focusing on your breathing, you can feel their presence with each movement that constricts your lungs...."

The hand slips from her shoulder to around her throat. The fingers are loose, but there to feel every shift of the breaths she takes. As En speaks, the hand slowly dips, down her collarbone to rest against her chest, to feel the beat of her heart and the movement of her lungs. The touch is sensual, intimate and close. There is nothing sexual about it, only... that intimacy of knowing all the organs that functioned beneath her skin, where they laid and how they worked; how they were influenced by the magick in her veins.

"Focus on that."

Channel that energy, is what they mean. It is what Liraz does. She empties her head of all thoughts, she clears her conscious. She focuses on her breathing. She makes her focal point the sky. With her eyes closed, she feels the trees around them, how the winds bristle through the branches. She imagines the flowers beneath her feet, how they sway with each breeze made by the Grey Dame. She breathes in, she exhales. Focused, she doesn't feel the hand pull back, nor does she notice En take a step back.

Around her she feels the winds pick up. It's not immediate, the more she focuses and relaxes the stronger the winds become, until the winds are heavy and strong enough to make her stumble where she stands. It doesn't occur to her, when she stumbles and is caught. She focuses on the ancient song she can hear being whistled in her ears, a song for her, one that nobody else can hear. She can hear it in her ears, as she can feel the power in her veins.

It's cut abrupt.

Her excitement overwhelms her. She loses her focus, for a split second and it ends. Like that. The wind dies down, tranquility once more finds the lake and meadow.

It's cut short, but... she doesn't feel upset about it. She's excited, she's gleaming with joy! She did it! She did it! She actually did it! She successfully managed to do it!

Stimming from excitement, Liraz is 'eee'ing as she spins around on her heels to face En. Moro is gleaming and grinning where he stands, stimming from excitement that Liraz is so ecstatic! And En... En is caught off their guard by Liraz jumping forward, her arms are around their shoulders. She knocks them back a step, but the hands are around her waist to balance them. They spin in a circle, as Liraz giggles with laughter the entire time, because En can rebalance and places her back on her own feet.

A rare opportunity, En releases a soft chuckle. Face gentle, a bemused smile upon their cheeks and brows soften. They run a hand through her hair and down her cheek. "What was that—"

And they're flushed red, like the hair they wear in this form, like the fire in their veins and eyes. They're taken yet again off their guard when Liraz tightens her arms around their neck and leans forward to kiss them.

It's not the chaste kisses given here and there, at breakfast and at night. It's not like the little kisses they share with Moro, when they're happy, or want to express their joy to their other half. This is a kiss. Like humans. Like mortals. Unlike them.

They don't...

It's not necessarily bad?

Different.

New.

If it were anyone else, by now En would have seized them by their throat and— no. It's Liraz. The little witch they had settled in living with. Moro's happy with her. Moro is happy living here. So... It's not so bad.

En holds her face close and kisses her back. It's the proper reply, is it not?

Liraz is grinning, happily. She's flushed pink herself. But she's loving every second of it. Sure, she kissed them out of sheer excitement but... It feels right. It feels right to be like this.

It's perhaps the only time Moro is quiet, as he approaches from behind. He wraps his own arms around Liraz and hugs her close, burying his face into the back of her shoulder. He's happy. He's content. En is smiling, Liraz is giddy. He's happy. He couldn't ask for more, really. He had it all right now.

All he ever wanted was for En to… relax. To enjoy life. To not need to burn every waking hour. To finally… feel peace.

And they do! They now feel it, and with Liraz nonetheless!

They stay like that, until Liraz finally pulls back. Grinning from her ears, she pulls her arms back, but settles in close, to rest her head against En's chest. She moves an arm and Moro settles in on the other side. Arms go around both of them, and now they stand contently in embrace.

Quietly, Liraz murmurs. "Thank you."

En furrows their brow, looking down at the two in their arms. "I haven't the faintest clue why you are thanking me."

Liraz shakes her head, her smile doesn't fade. "You kept your word. You taught me magick. YOUR magick!"

"Everyone can have a taste of it if they're only smart enough." En is quick to dismiss it. They don't see the big deal. It's magick. But... It makes her excited. Like it makes Moro excited when he learns his facts.

En takes a breath in, exhales. They're arms tightened around the two in their embrace. "You're welcome... Dragonfly."

Liraz giggles hearing the new nickname. She tilts her head back to stare up at them. "Dragonfly?"

En looks away, as she expects. It makes her giggle more. "You remind me of a dragonfly."

"Mhm? Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me it does!"

"Pity for you!"

Liraz snorts in laughter as En unwraps their arms and backs up. They fold their arms across their chest, roll their eyes and 'hmph's.

"Oh, come on!" Liraz laughs, and Moro is quick to join in. "Wait, where are you going?!"

En is moving on their heels. Head stuck up, still pouting, they're leaving in a hurry.

"— Home!"

A beat skips in Liraz's heart. It's the first time they call it that. The first time they actively refer to that little cottage as... Home. As if the day couldn't get better.

Liraz is scurrying to grab her grimoire, calling Blodeu back, and running after En, as Moro already has run off ahead to stop them. The entire time, she's laughing, with a wide grin on her face. "Wait for us!"

#My writing #Writeblr #Writers on tumblr #Writers of tumblr #Otp prompt #CH #Wip: CH #Wip: Coming Home #Coming Home #Mutual's inquire #Inquires answered #Listen it's criminally cute and I regret nothing #The endings a bit rushed but oh well #It's nice enough #No beta we die like Atticus

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