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justalost4girl · 3 years

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

Note

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #writing blog #writing requests #ask box #ask response

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yuthoe · 3 years

Text

Time (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

a few things:

1. yes i'm a monbebe now too and i fully blame fatal love era hyungwon for it. he has my multistan ass whipped

2. THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN FOR THIS BLOG HOLY GAWD

3. i'm back to going to the office everyday for work, so we're back to infrequent posting lmao

ok so. i've wanted to write a vampire fic for so long now (the previous/first one i wrote was back in 1st year high school and despite my massive vampire kink i didn't attempt to make any other vamp related stories haha), and when i saw hyungwon in that red suit with the long hair and the eyebags and the turtleneck i just kinda went feral. this thing took me like, almost a month to write; it's been hard to cook up writing brain juice between work and trying to be healthy and keeping up with the pan de manila.

i fully intended for this to be like, sexy suggestive and leading to something more for the ending, but like. it turned out soft. somehow. the premise was perfect, but somehow my brain was like, "no make it soft" and we have whatever this is.

this is unedited bc i wrote it half-asleep and wanted to get it out there

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: vampire!AU, some fluff, modern fantasy. WARNINGS: vampire-typical injuries—biting, blood—some very mild sexual themes. WORD COUNT: 3,589 (holy shit).

---

The entryway is lit by the two dim overhead lights, casting an orange tint to the concrete floor. You take care to slip your shoes on quietly, not wanting to accidentally wake the slumbering man in the other room; he just got home a few hours ago and you didn’t want to cut his sleep short, remembering how he slowly slipped under the covers with you, winding an arm around your midsection and releasing a heavy breath before passing out.

So with a glance at your watch—the one he got you for your birthday a few years back, the one you’ve worn almost everywhere since—you grab your work bag and try to slip off the chain lock with as little sound as possible.

“Are you leaving for work?”

You flinch at his voice, huskier now with remnants of sleep. Hyungwon has a thing about soundlessly walking into places and surprising you by suddenly speaking. Your face scrunches at your failed attempt to slip out unnoticed, and a loud sigh escapes your lips as you turn to face him.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, stepping right to the elevated wooden floor that separates the entryway to the living area. Hyungwon is wearing a white shirt that completely swallows his slender frame and loose pajama pants. You cup his soft cheek, drag your hand to his neck, his shoulder, down his arm, until you’re intertwining your fingers.

“Pretty much since you left the bed,” he mumbles, taking his other hand and wrapping it around you, pulling you to his chest. You feel him rest his face on the top of your head and breathe in your scent.

“Aw,” you reply quietly, smoothing a hand down his back. “And I thought I was being super quiet this time.”

There’s comfortable silence as Hyungwon basks in your warmth and you can swear he’s close to falling asleep where he stands. You think there’s no other place you’d want to be right now, but unfortunately, you need to work and he needs to sleep.

You let go of the strap on your bag and tap his side gently. “I have to go,” you murmur.

Hyungwon groans, lowers his head and tilts it to the side to whisper directly into your ear. “Do you really have to? Because there’s something more important you need to do here.” He noses at your temple, his cold breath fanning against your ear.

“Oh? And what is that?” It’s too early in the day for goosebumps, and the faster you force him back to bed, the better your chances of resisting the sweet pull of his voice.

“Mmm…,” he groans again, and you feel his smile as he kisses your ear. “Sleep.”

You snort, pulling away with a soft smile, free hand coming to cup his face. You pass your thumb over his cheekbone and watch as he melts at your touch, dark bangs falling over his closed eyes. “I’ll be home early today, love,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.

Hyungwon’s eyes open unhurried, and he leans down to return the peck, lips moving slow against yours like honey. “Hurry back,” he mumbles against your lips.

***

A quiet sigh leaves his lips as Hyungwon toes off his shoes, leaving them at their designated space at the entrance. He hangs his bag and coat on the hooks before silently walking through the apartment to the bathroom, eager to scrub himself clean of the aggravating scents and grime of the club.

Hyungwon loves his job, he does. The people he interacts with there, though? Still up for debate.

The hot, almost scalding water seeps into his skin, warming him up from the outside. He’s used to the cold, he himself being below the normal human temperature for nearly a century now. The droplets sting a little, but it’s the pain that grounds Hyungwon to reality, a sort of proof of life in his years of floating along the endless river of time, never knowing when and where his journey would end.

There’s another pain, a burning in his throat, that reminds him well of his immortality. It assaults him every few days, and over the years has dulled from hurting so bad he nearly claws out his neck, to just being a pain in the ass that makes him cough if he doesn’t slake the thirst.

Hyungwon’s body cools rapidly when he shuts off the water, the soft April chill helping it along so that he’s mostly dry when he grabs his towel.

The bedroom is silent when he slips in, quickly dressing in the huge shirt and loose pants from yesterday, before he ducks out again to make a beeline to the kitchen, folding his tall frame into a crouch as he opens the refrigerator. There’s a space just for his blood bags in the far corner of the fridge, that he immediately scans and finds empty. Hyungwon groans and slaps a hand over his face.

Of course he forgets to stop by the blood bank tonight. He vaguely remembers taking the last bag four days ago and making a mental note to call Kihyun for his refills, but there must have been something that distracted him at the time because at present, he can’t recall contacting Kihyun about it at all, despite exchanging messages regularly.

He stands to his full height as he closes the door, leans his head against it as he mulls over his forgetfulness that never went away in all his years of living. And before he slips back into your bedroom and into the sweet realm of sleep, he rummages in his bag for his phone, texts his friend, gets a short scolding about his poor memory, and then sets a date to pick up his food.

Hyungwon quietly pads back to the bedroom and closes the door soundlessly, careful not to wake you. He slides in next to you, pulling the comforter snug against him as he rests on his elbows. He takes a few seconds to gaze at your sleeping figure, something he does every night. The random thought of coming off as creepy on the off chance you wake up runs through his head, but at the same time he thinks he wouldn’t mind if you catch him watching you sleep.

You know Hyungwon loves you, and he’s told you before that you’re one of his anchors to his hold on humanity. Never once in your two-year relationship did you take his vulnerability for granted, and he’s (quite literally) eternally grateful for your kindness and love.

He settles in on his side, and his shuffling has got you adjusting to his shape under the covers. Hyungwon feels you turn to face him and reach for his arm. You groan small, pull at his slender limb to wrap it around you, and he just lets you move him the way you want, an amused smile on his face. His other arm slides beneath your neck, and you nuzzle closer to him, breathing deep when you’re finally satisfied. He counts five seconds before your breaths even out in slumber.

Hyungwon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and inhales your scent, relaxed now and ready to follow you into sleep.

***

His alarm wakes him at noon, the shrill tone making him jerk and tighten his arm around the warm body in front of him, brows scrunching as he groans softly. Hyungwon stretches an arm towards the nightstand and turns off the alarm with an expert swipe of a finger. He buries his nose into your hair, not wanting to enter the land of the living yet. You respond with a hum, shifting and turning so your back is pressed against his chest.

You both try to doze off again before Hyungwon realizes two things:

One—It’s a Friday.

Two—You’re still in his arms.

“Love,” he mumbles against your hair.

You reply around five seconds later, with a simple grunt.

Hyungwon snorts a laugh, eyes still closed, but mind slowly waking with every passing second. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Another grunt from you, this time louder and longer. You shuffle under the sheets to turn to him again, eyes persistently closed and brows knit slightly. “Took the day off,” you mumble and slither your arm under his, scooting closer to bury your face in his neck. “Wanted to spend some time with you.”

At this Hyungwon smiles, rests his cheek on your head. “So we have until tomorrow night to do whatever then.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before your head shoots up. The movement startles Hyungwon and makes his eyes pop open. Bleary eyes meet, yours equal parts confused and suspicious. “What do you mean? You took the night off, too? But it’s Friday—the club’s gonna be packed.”

He levels you with a casual shrug. “Yeah,” he says, sliding his hand up your arm that’s around him, and stopping at your neck. His large hand completely covers your neck, long fingers splaying onto your cheek and winding into your hair. “I wanted to spend time with you, too.” He clears his throat. “I’ve missed you.” Hyungwon can feel the steady pulse under your skin and he clears his throat again.

You smile, lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

And another one.

And another.

And you would have rained more kisses on him had he not started coughing and turned his head away. The ache in Hyungwon’s throat wasn’t that bad when he was asleep, but now that he’s awake, it’s irritating to the point of annoyance. He knows the thirst is his fault, but damn, would it kill him if he could have a peaceful morning (noon) with you before his body complains about being hungry?

He feels a hand smoothing down his back as the coughing goes down. He takes shaky breaths as he sits up and leans on the headboard. After a big exhale from him, you say, “Are you okay?”

Hyungwon looks at you and smiles tightly. “I’m fine. Just a bit hungry.” He sits up, only to scoot closer to you and wind an arm around your back. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he talks, voice low and scratchy. “Ran out of my supply and I forgot to call Kihyun about it, and it’s been a few days since I had a drink. And it’ll be a couple more days before I can stop by the blood bank for my refills.” A cough.

Your arms are around his wiry frame, fingers running up and down his spine and making him drowsy. He’s still tired and sleepy, but the thirst is keeping him awake.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask quietly. “From me?”

Hyungwon stills, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not all the time he gets to drink from you; in fact, he makes it a point to not do it because he doesn’t want to scare you off. You’ve been living together for six months, known each other for years before that, but he still worries, silently waiting for the day you decide that being with a vampire isn’t worth it after all.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine.” He pushes down the cough building in his throat.

You card your fingers through his long hair. “I know you try not to, but I’m okay with it. You sound like you’re really hurting.” You rest your head against his. “We’ve done it before, and it didn’t really hurt. And I trust you, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon is tired. Is sleepy. The thirst isn’t all that bad, but the coughing is aggravating his already dry throat. He hasn’t gotten a sip of blood in five days and nothing else could quench this particular thirst quite as well.

A small cough. “Are you sure?”

Your head is still resting on his and he feels you nod. “Yeah. Besides, I…” You clear your throat before speaking. “I like it when you drink from me.”

The vampire freezes, not quite knowing what to do with this newly revealed information. He’s not sure if what he feels right now is mild lust or genuine surprise. In the (very) rare times he drinks from you he thought he saw a twinkle of anticipation in your eyes, like you’ve been craving it, too. He thinks maybe his view of himself is clouding whatever opinion you have of him, bad and good alike.

Hyungwon’s lips purse, trying to keep himself from laughing because he can tell you’re serious about this, just as worried about him as you are excited about the prospect of being bitten; it’s still a bit unbelievable. He finally raises his head and looks square at you.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asks again. “You really want me to drink from you?” He crosses his legs under the blankets and pulls you with the arm still around your back.

Sometimes you forget Hyungwon is so strong—he doesn’t make his strength known to you, unless you both need it a little rough in bed. Now, he practically lifts you onto his lap, emboldened by your declaration. You straddle him, sitting snugly with both his arms around you; your hands naturally find themselves on his broad shoulders.

“Mhm,” you simply say, nodding your head. Adrenaline is running through your veins, and you’re sure Hyungwon can clearly hear how loud and fast your heart is beating right now.

It also seems like he can read your mind because he takes one of his hands and rests it softly against your chest, right over your heart.

You see him swallow. “Your heart is beating so fast,” he says, dragging his hand up to your neck, fingers soft on your skin, and you shiver. “Your pulse is racing.” Hyungwon is looking at you like you’re a meal he can’t wait to devour. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you say, even though you don’t really know if what you’re feeling is excitement or embarrassment or lust of fear. You can’t recall any of the previous times he fed from you being this tense—it was always out of desperation and pain that he reached out to you for this, and despite this moment being along the same lines, it’s… very different.

The loose collar of your sweater—one of his you pilfered long ago—is pulled to the side, and you shiver again as his fingertip brushes against your skin. Goosebumps raise on your arms as Hyungwon trails that single finger over your collarbone, up your neck again, to cup your chin and pull you in for a kiss.

His lips are gentle, but you can feel he’s holding back, trying to take it slow in case you change your mind. When you respond and bite his lip, he growls and pulls you by the back of the head to kiss you deeper. The arm around your back tightens, and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair as he angles your head the way he wants.

Tiny moans spill from your lips as Hyungwon’s tongue explores your mouth. When he pulls away, your sight is flooded with his red irises, gold specks swimming in the pool of his eyes that almost glow in the dark room. So chillingly beautiful.

You’re breathing hard, unable to look away from Hyungwon’s captivating gaze. A thought passes through: No wonder humans just fall at their feet—who could look away from such a mesmerizing sight?

“Last chance,” he mutters, wetting his plump bottom lip, his scarlet eyes fixed on your neck. “You really want this?”

You card your fingers through his head and tilt his face up, dropping a kiss to his closed eyes, his nose, his pretty lips. You cup his cheek and give him a small smile. “Do it.”

Hyungwon takes a deep breath and kisses your cheek, trails his lips to nip your earlobe, and then lower… He goes slow, building up your anticipation, getting your heart rate up with every kiss and nip and suck.

He laves his tongue over a spot on your neck, and you let out a sigh, relaxing in Hyungwon’s firm hold. The hand still tangled in your hair guides you, tilting your head to the side. He noses at your neck and gives you a final soft kiss, before he draws his fangs and punctures your jugular.

You squeak in pain; the bite stings, but it goes away as fast as it came. You feel Hyungwon draw back his fangs and begin to suck, dragging his tongue over the wounds, and groaning low in his throat at the sweet taste of you.

It occurs to him how much he misses feeding from you. Because of the rarity of these occasions, your blood becomes a treat to him, a sort of delicacy that he deliberately denies himself of. It didn’t take him too long after that first taste of you long ago, to realize that your blood is dangerously addicting.

Hyungwon focuses on drinking your blood, drinking in the small moans you make as he marks your soft skin. He feels your restless hands clawing at his back, the other winding through his long hair—pulling him close or pushing him away, you don’t know.

Your senses are heightened and dulled; you’re acutely aware of every miniscule movement of Hyungwon’s lips on your neck, but the rest of your body feels like it’s floating. He groans against your skin and the vibrations send a jolt of lightning up your spine and you whimper.

Hyungwon immediately pulls back, worried he hurt you. His mouth is stained red. “Are you okay?”

You’re nodding before he finishes, cupping his cheek with a hand. “I’m fine, Hyungwon.” You give him a small smile as he melts into your hand, one of his coming up to keep it there. “Did you want more?”

He shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you, love.” He exhales, and you think he does look better than earlier—his skin is brighter, the bags under his eyes are gone, and he’s even breathing more easily. “Let me go clean you up,” he says, and lifts you gently off him, setting you down on the soft comforter just in front of him. He pats your knee before getting up and padding to the bathroom.

You gaze at him as he leaves, the sight of his model-like figure waddling like a penguin amusing. Hyungwon stops at the door and turns to you, smiling at you softly.

He returns a minute later, warm damp washcloth in hand, mouth clean and eyes a lovely brown. He sits at the edge of the bed and cleans your neck with gentle swipes. The bleeding has stopped and the wound is closed, but the surrounding skin is blooming with black and purple bruises. Hyungwon clicks his tongue. “I’m sorry, love. The bite’s gonna leave a mark.”

You carefully tap the wounds, smoothing fingertips over the raised marks. They sting a bit, but it feels more like the soreness after getting a vaccine shot than anything. “It’s okay, love. They’ll heal over the weekend.” You catch his lips in a soft kiss. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

He sets the bloody rag on the nightstand and moves closer to you, kissing you back, cradling your neck for support as he coaxes you to lie on the bed. You smile through the kiss, giggle as you wind your arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips. “You looked so beautiful earlier… Thank you for letting me do that.”

You hum. “Anytime, you need, babe. I enjoyed it.”

Hyungwon is propped above you, a thigh slotted between yours. Lazy, slow kisses against the soft sheets seems like the perfect activity for the rest of the day. But you have other plans.

“I gotta admit, though,” you said, brushing his long bangs from his eyes. “That was… kinda hot.” You try to fight a smile, embarrassed at the admission, despite the compromising position you were in just minutes before.

Hyungwon chuckles, ducks his head to press a soft kiss to the puncture marks, the underside of your jaw, your earlobe. “I didn’t expect you to be so into it,” he whispers, his baritone voice seeping into your bones and making you shudder.

You laugh loud at that. “Well, my boyfriend is a hot vampire, what did you think was gonna happen?”

Hyungwon laughs with you, rests his forehead on yours and kisses you again. He buries his face into your neck, the unmarked side, and snakes his arms around your back and rolls you to your sides.

Fingers trace mindless shapes on his back, play with his long hair that’s tangled from your restless hands earlier, relax in the quiet of the afternoon. Your heads are at the foot of the bed, legs tangled together. From the top of Hyungwon’s head, you can just barely see the sun peeking through a slit between the dark curtains, but all you want to do is sleep.

You’re close to dozing off when Hyungwon suddenly speaks. Three words. Your favorite.

“I love you.” He squeezes you slightly and breathes in your scent.

You smile and reply, “I love you, too.”

The world outside your window keeps turning; the weather looks nice today. But you’re not stepping out, not when your whole world is right here, snuggled in your arms.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon scenario #hyungwon scenario #hyungwon scenarios #hyugnwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: hyungwon #fic: not spicy #but it's mildly #monsta x smut #just putting that tag there just in caseee #BABY IS FINALLY DONE #i hope yall like it

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Note

Hb combining 1 w 37 in which steve (or bucky) is trying to mention that theyre a mobster but get interrupted by the rival gang and they have to run & end up in an alley 👀👀

1. here’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close

37. We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster/biker

Y/N found Steve so peculiar.

This was their fifth date and Steve hadn’t so much as kissed Y/N on the cheek. He’d given her a hug after their second date, but it had been Y/N who even initiated it. Steve had placed his hand protectively on her back on their first date when a homeless man was yelling crazily on the sidewalk and started eyeing Y/N.

However, Y/N wasn’t mad about it. She was just so taken aback from it. Steve acted like men from a time when gentlemen were expected, not a rarity.

She actually preferred this slow burn. It took her awhile to trust people, men especially. Without trust, she wasn’t comfortable with intimacy, particularly physical intimacy.

Y/N just wasn’t sure if she were misreading Steve’s politeness for disinterest. Or maybe he was in the closet still, and refused to realize that maybe women weren’t for him.

But if Steve wasn’t actually interested in her, why had he insisted on taking her to dinner tonight and having their fifth date?

“I was grounded for a month after that. Mom didn’t take too kindly to me beating someone up, even if he was an asshole who was making fun of my best friend for being gay.” She told him with a nostalgic smile.

Steve looked at her over the candlelit dinner with a amused smirk and pride in his eyes.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he chuckled before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“You? I would never touch a hair on your head.”

His brows raised in surprise. “Yeah? And why is that?”

“You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Steve. I can’t even imagine you losing your temper, let alone getting into a physical fight.”

His amusement dropped for a second. But he kept his cool composure.

“Well, certainly not with you,” was all he answered back. That way he didn’t feel like he was lying. No, he’d never harm her. He struggled with even imagining a scenario where he’d lose his temper with Y/N.

The dinner as a whole was almost comically pleasant and…comfortable. Y/N had never felt that unsureness or awkwardness on any of her dates with Steve that were so common in her dating life.

Steve felt like a friend first, which took all the pressure off for Y/N and made her feel like she could just be herself.

After splitting two different desserts and espresso, the waitress brought the check directly to Steve. He thanked her by using her name, which made Y/N wonder how often he came to this particular restaurant.

Steve never let her pay for literally anything: dinner, drinks, coffee. If he thought it was too late for her to take the subway home alone, he would pay for a taxi or another ride service.

Y/N tried not to let her feminist mind get upset about it. But the way Steve went about it was so smooth and unbothered that she didn’t feel like there was something expected of her in return.

“Thanks for meeting me for dinner,” he told her sweetly as helped with her jacket and lead them to the restaurant’s exit.

“Yeah, my presence is always sought after… you’re lucky I could fit you into my demanding schedule,” she answered back so sarcastically that made him chuckle in return.

When they stepped outside, the most beautiful flurry had started. It didn’t stick to the ground and it didn’t make the air any colder. It just fell like a prop in a movie.

Y/N looked up at the sky and then smiled at Steve.

“You up for a little walk?” She asked, not ready to leave his side quite yet.

There was still so much mystery around him. She needed to solve it before she conjured up any false ideas about him.

He smiled back. “A walk sounds great.”

With Steve’s old-school manners, Y/N half expected him to offer his arm to her. But they simply walked side by side, their hands in the pockets of their coats to keep them warm.

“Are you keeping something from me?” Y/N finally blurted out after they had walked in comfortable silence for some time.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You’re too perfect, Steve. You’re polite. You manage to make me feel like a lady, and just an actual respected human being. You ask me genuine questions. You pay for everything like it’s the 1930s. You haven’t tried to prematurely cop a feel – which I oddly appreciate, by the way.”

She took in a deep breath after she listed everything so quickly. “What’s your flaw, huh?”

Steve just shifted his weight.

“Are you married?”

His eyes widened. “What? No! Of course not.”

“Then do you have a girlfriend?” Y/N countered.

“No, Y/N. I’m not even seeing anyone else. Just you.”

“Are you gay?” Y/N regretted it the moment the words came out of her mouth.

Steve actually laughed at that. “I can assure you that I’m not.”

Y/N was about to continue her interrogation when Steve’s gaze went past her shoulder, clearly catching something behind her.

He muttered a curse under his breath. It was the first time she had ever heard him swear.

Without giving any warning or explanation, Steve quickly grabbed a hold a of her hand and pulled her into the nearest alleyway. Y/N yelped at the surprise of it all.

She was just about to ask what the hell was going on when she realized how close Steve was to her.

Her back was pressed against the cold brick of the building.

Meanwhile, Steve’s face was mere inches from hers.

He had yet to invade her personal space in such a way. And to Y/N’s surprise, her heart was racing from the thrill of it all instead of the anxiety it usually induced when other men did such a thing.

Steve’s eyes flickered to her lips and then dug into her gaze.

How did such a look make Y/N feel more vulnerable than any time she’d ever been naked with a man?

“Sorry–It’s just–I saw someone I knew,” he explained lamely.

Y/N nodded. “Oh, yeah? Ex-girlfriend?”

He didn’t laugh at the joke, just shook his head. “No, no.” Then he winced. “Look, I can’t – I really don’t want to lie to you.”

“Then don’t,” she retorted a bit harshly.

“I haven’t lied to you about who I am. I just conveniently left out a bit about my work.”

Y/N chuckled. “What? Are you gonna now tell me you’re some kind of New York gangster or something?”

Steve didn’t laugh once again. He swallowed. His eyes held all the answers Y/N needed.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. “You are.”

He said nothing.

It made sense, which was why Y/N knew he wasn’t pulling so weird prank on her. The money he seemed to have a plethora of. The suaveness and confident air around him. His perfectly tailored clothes.

This was the thing that made Y/N question his genuineness.

Y/N glanced back out at the sidewalk. “So, who exactly are we hiding from then? A rival gang or some shit?”

“It’s not that simple,” Steve sighed. “My…occupation… makes me more enemies than friends.”

“Did we just avoid a shootout or stabbing?” Y/N almost laughed at how ridiculous the question sounded.

“No, of course not. We’re not sloppy.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t-I can’t have them see you. As soon as they get a look at you – or the way I look at you, for that matter – they’ll…” His words died out.

His eyes softened as he stared at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t really know how, to be honest. Most of the women I’ve been with had an idea of who I was before agreeing to a date.”

Y/N put her hand to Steve’s chest and forced him back a few steps.

The new space between them felt like a galaxy.

“If this isn’t some fucked up joke–”

“It’s no joke, Y/N.” Steve interrupted her.

She took a step away from him, walking backwards slowly but keeping his stare. “So, if I walk away right now…does that end with me at the bottom of the East River?” Her voice was shaking.

Steve’s face turned crestfallen as he realized that Y/N was now scared of him, even convinced he would kill her.

“Y/N, please believe me…I’d never hurt–I’d never touch you.”

For some reason, she believed him.

But that wasn’t enough.

She started shaking her head, still tiptoeing backwards. “I’m sorry, Steve. I-I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” He challenged.

“I can’t be some mobster wife… or-or-or whatever I’d be to you.”

Steve’s head fell. All his exact fears were coming true. Fears that had grown when he realized he had started falling for Y/N.

“I understand,” he replied evenly, even though it hurt like hell to say it.

“I’m sorry.” She was at the end of the alley again.

Did the moonlight and flurry have to frame her face so beautifully? Was this his punishment for all the terrible things he’s done?

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” he muttered. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Y/N just nodded shakily. “Goodbye, Steve.”

Then she turned and rounded the corner, leaving the alleyway and Steve’s sight.

He sighed and rubbed his face. His heart was beating so fast that he swore it was starting to hurt. He started pacing in the shadows of the alley, trying to control his emotions.

His back was turned to sidewalk when he heard the click of her heels hurriedly returning.

He whipped around.

And before he could ask her what the hell she was doing, her lips crashed to his.

Steve instantly reciprocated, clutching her face and pulling her even closer

He’d wanted to know what her lips tasted like as soon as he had seen her for the first time. But she scared the hell out of him and he tried to be a patient gentleman.

Y/N’s fingers weaved through his hair, tugging even, and it only drove Steve crazier.

Steve even let her shove him back against the alley wall.

His grip was tight and possessive against her waist.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what his grip would feel like against her naked skin.

Then she snapped out of it and quickly broke the kiss.

However, they lingered. Both of them were trying to catch their breath. It was the only sound in the alley.

Steve pressed his forehead against hers.

And suddenly his hunger turned into a softness, a need for her.

But he knew what this was. And it wasn’t Y/N changing her mind.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N heaved. “I just had to know.”

Then she ripped herself from his arms and left the alley. For good this time.

———————————–

PART TWO

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Text

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (17/18)

Chapter 17: Lose More Slowly

The wide network of Valentine Detective Agency’s allies meet to perfect the plan to infiltrate MIT. On the eve of ‘battle’, Madelyn is apprehensive about one last confession from Deacon. With no time to waste, the fight is taken to Cambridge where the Institute can be exposed once and for all.

“That’s not the way to win.”—Jeff, as played by Robert Mitchum

“Is there a way to win?”—Kathie, as played by Jane Greer

“There’s a way to lose more slowly.” (Out of the Past, 1947)

[read on Ao3] | [chapter masterpost]

June 16th, 1958

It took just over two weeks to solidify the plan to infiltrate the Institute. It hardly mattered that Madelyn and Nick—with Deacon and the Railroad’s help—had previously breached Fort Hagen. This operation was an entirely different beast, that required an entirely different set of skills and resources. There would be no undercover sneaking, or witty aliases this time—just a dangerous game of cat and mouse—a game they all hoped to survive.

After weeks of organizing, Nick decided there was no point in waiting any longer and called a meeting at the agency to be held the evening before their planned attack. The usual group had increased exponentially, with the allies they had gained in the last several months joining them, each with their own part to play. It was remarkable to see everyone in one place, spread out in the lobby (because there was no logistical way to fit so many people in Nick’s tiny office), and it made Madelyn think that maybe—just maybe—they had a shot at finding out the truth behind the Institute’s schemes.

She sat, perched on the edge of Ellie’s receptionist desk so that she could have a clear view of the room, scribbling down the summarized events of what was to occur the following morning. The plan was carefully detailed and outlined in a series of reports and dictated memos, but there was no harm in writing it out one last time. The secretary was working overtime—literally—bouncing from one cluster of people to the next, offering refills of strong coffee or spirits. But nearly everyone was focused on Nick and his giant, wheeled chalkboard of information, and the way it outlined the case’s timeline, all the way back to 1947. The detective was in rare form—sharp, focused, and with a fiery determination Madelyn hadn’t seen in months, or maybe years. Coat discarded and sleeves rolled up, he talked through the details, and didn’t stop for a drink or cigarette.

“…which brings us to the incident at city hall,” Nick gestured to the Publick Occurrences newspaper clipping before stepping away to finally grab a quick sip of his whiskey that sat next to Madelyn. “Did you ever find out why the Boston P.D. were a no-show?”

Sergeant Danny Sullivan, fresh out from the hospital after recovering from his injuries sustained at said incident, sat in a nearby chair. He nodded, looking displeased with the information he was about to share. “It was all Mayor McDonough’s fault, buying off officers. Which means, by proxy, they were paid off by MIT, if we’re still in agreement about who was—is—pulling the strings.”

“Not for very much longer,” Nick replied.

“I’ve had to spend the last two weeks cooped up at New England sending a courier back and forth to the courthouse to perform background checks on my entire squad to make sure none of them have connections to the university,” Sullivan described, shaking his head with a deep scowl.

“Cheer up, Danny Boy,” Hancock quipped, leaned back in the chair at the Sergeant’s side. “At least there’s some good news.”

“Please John,” Nick groused, maybe wishing the younger McDonough brother was still recuperating from his own gunshot wound. “Enlighten us.”

“Made a house call with Bobby to the deputy district attorney last night,” Hancock explained, motioning over to where the former mercenary was fixing his own cup of coffee at the kitchenette. “Did you know that his kid and little Duncan go to preschool together?”

Nick wasn’t amused, and his patience was wearing thin. Though, it always did with the would-be politician. “How cute.”

“Right? And there I was, thinking I’d have to resort to blackmail,” the other man replied.

MacCready laughed as he leaned against the galley, taking a sip from his cup before wincing at whatever he’d poured into the porcelain. “You still blackmailed him.”

“Mild blackmail,” Hancock contended with a shrug, ignoring the way Nick and Madelyn shot him double looks of disappointment and concern. “Agree to disagree. The good news is we sweet talked that stiff into signing a genuine warrant. With somethin’ like that, we’re made in the shade.”

He handed the folded document from his jacket pocket to Sergeant Sullivan, who took his time in reading it over. Nick was still skeptical, leaning against the desk near Madelyn while he slowly nursed his drink.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the detective urged. “Does it look legitimate?”

“As far as I can tell,” Sullivan affirmed, passing the warrant to Nick to read.

Madelyn glanced over his shoulder, glossing over the familiar legal jargon before focusing on the signature at the bottom—it surely looked like the deputy district attorney’s scrawl. She didn’t think either Hancock or MacCready would jeopardize the case with a little bit of forgery. Not that blackmail was any better, but she could sooth it over with the man who was technically her boss later.

“Well, at least now we have a valid reason to get into the building,” Nick spoke, handing the document back to the Sergeant for safekeeping. “Wouldn’t hurt to have backup on standby, just in case.”

The focus shifted to Preston Garvey who was smiling his thanks as Ellie poured him a new cup of coffee. Standing next to him was Lieutenant Danse—ever the reluctant participant—who had refused a seat and a drink. The only reason why he agreed to assist was for ‘the greater good’. The Institute and their experiments had no place in the United States military, and he was determined to see them exposed for what they truly were.

“The Minutemen are already in position throughout Cambridge,” Preston explained. “Just give me the word, and they can be ready in a minute’s notice.”

The Lieutenant sneered. “We’ll root out those Institute bastards, one way or another.”

“That’s the spirit,” Piper remarked from her spot near the front door. “I’ve done my own reconnaissance around Cambridge and the campus with Mister Neurotic here.”

Tinker Tom sat in a nearby seat, spinning his body in increasingly faster circles until the reporter reached out to stop him. He gazed up at her with wide eyes. “Is that me?”

Piper looked as though she could snap his neck but relaxed with a deep sigh. “Based on his readouts, and those blueprints, we were able to find an unmarked sewer entrance near the eastern banks of the Charles River.”

“Why does it always have to be a sewer?” Madelyn mumbled under her breath, causing Nick to smirk.

“Good work, Piper,” he remarked, the closest he’d gotten to happy all evening. “This means we can go ahead with splitting up into smaller teams.”

“Better if you and Blue take the sneaky route while the rest of us cover your tails,” she gestured to the circle of people, her eyes lingering on the figure leaning against the far corner of the room. “That is, if we can trust these blueprints in the first place, and we aren’t about to send you into a trap.”

Madelyn frowned at Piper, wishing that after all this time her friend could be less cynical about the Railroad and their resources. Sure, their actions were still largely shrouded in mystery, but that didn’t equate to nefariousness. It was important to remember who the real enemy was. She let her eyes drift to where Deacon was standing near the doorway to her office—where he’d been standing all night, just silently listening and watching from behind his darkened shades. A slight shiver ran up her spine and intuition told her his attention was focused on her rather than the other occupants of the room.

“You can trust me,” he finally said, the weight of his words lost on everyone except her. Piper shrugged but didn’t make to argue any further. Madelyn smiled to herself as she broke her gaze away from his face, looking down at the writing on her notepad instead.

Nick stood, bringing the attention back to the timeline. “Let’s not get blind-sighted by the Institute.”

“We have a man to find. Kellogg,” he reminded the group, tapping the chalkboard where the scarred man’s picture hung. “More than that, we have a child to bring home to his parents. Shaun Perlman. I’d like to solve this, once and for all.”

Silent understanding fell over the room, but it didn’t last.

“A toast,” Hancock suddenly declared, raising his glass. “To the best damn detective this city’s ever seen,” he nodded towards Madelyn, grinning like he’d gone mad—maybe he had. “And behind every great man, is an even greater woman. To Valentine and Hardy!”

As it grew closer to midnight, the plans for the following day were solidified and the agency gradually emptied out. The participants would need a good night’s rest—if it were even possible—before they infiltrated the Institute in the morning. Nick and Madelyn saw their guests out, though the detective left her to walk with Deacon outside so they might have some privacy. Even then, she noted Drummer Boy waiting by a parked car with Tinker Tom inside, the two doing everything they could to pretend they weren’t watching the two.

“We’re heading back to the church for a rendezvous,” he explained, positioning himself so the others couldn’t necessarily see their exchange. “Somebody has to fill Desdemona and Glory in on all the nitty-gritty.”

“Is it safe for you all to travel in the same car?” she asked, peering over his shoulder. Call it paranoia, but she’d had enough close calls in the last six months to last a lifetime.

Deacon softly chuckled, reaching out to gently wrap his fingers through the curls along the side of her face. “You’ve been spending too much time reading those detective novels, Charmer.”

“Or living in one.”

He looked at her, and there was the unspoken question—will I see you tonight? She frowned a little and sensed his disappointment, even behind his shades. She grasped the hand at his side and brushed her thumbs across his knuckles in affectionate sweeps.

“I’m staying with Nick tonight,” Madelyn said, trying not to sound too sad about it. She mimicked his speech pattern. “Somebody has to make sure he actually sleeps tonight.”

Deacon offered a barely-there smile, which sent her thoughts into a tailspin. He moved his hand so he was softly cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb ghosting down towards her lips. “What if I said that I had a secret to tell you?”

“What kind of secret?” Madelyn asked in response, her heartrate suddenly increasing at the possibilities. Slowly, the world around her started to fade away, and the only thing keeping her grounded was his touch.

“An important secret,” he answered, breath hot against her mouth.

It was very likely that he was playing some kind of game, all part of an elaborate ruse to get her to come home with him. What could possibly be more important than what she’d already learned about him—his appearance, his home, his name. Unless it was all a lie. Madelyn doubted that, even as a momentary pang shot through her heart. Deacon must’ve noticed the subtle change in her expression because he pulled away just enough, and quickly pushed up his glasses so that she could see his eyes. Their stormy grey-blue color were vibrant with emotion, so striking and intense that she felt overwhelmed. Secret immediately translated in her mind to confession.

Deacon drew her closer again, hand cradling the side of her face. “Madelyn, I—”

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of her name—her real name—and she had to fight to stay standing as her knees wobbled. Then, she kissed him, if only to stop him from saying anything. Call it fear, call her a coward—she just couldn’t bear to hear the rest of that sentence, even if she was dying to scream it from the rooftops herself. He was surprised for a half-second before returning the kiss, angling them even more out of eyeshot from the loitering Railroad agents. Couldn’t see the boss-man (because face it, she knew the truth about that too) sharing a tender moment with his lady.

Madelyn pulled away just a fraction before they could get carried away in such a public setting and gripped his hand tight. “Cliché confessions spoken in the calm before the storm are a bad omen, don’t you think?”

Deacon blinked, temporarily stunned, but recovered well enough to flash a sideways smirk, one she couldn’t tell was forced or not. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift between them when they needed each other’s support the most.

“You’re right,” he sighed wistfully, bordering on playing his emotions too thick. He readjusted his shades so they were where they belonged—at least for him. “Wouldn’t want to jinx it.”

The car horn behind them blared into the night and he turned, hand still clasped in hers to see Drummer Boy leaning into the driver’s car window with his arm poised to repeat the action. Tinker Tom was snickering, daring him to do it again. Despite her unease, Madelyn smiled. “Shouldn’t keep the boys waiting.”

He shook his head and brought her hand up so he could press a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Je t’adore.”

Madelyn knew that wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but it would have to do, for now. She kept her eyes on him the entire time as he walked away, shooing Drummer Boy away from the driver’s side door of their vehicle before getting in. Deacon regarded her for one last lingering moment as he started the car before slowly driving away. Within moments, Nick rejoined her on the sidewalk, following her line of sight down the stretch of road.

“Ready to go?”

She turned to face him as a wash of remorse came over her heart. Had she done the right thing? Madelyn studied her partner’s face and his bemused expression, eyebrow raised as he looked back at her with mild concern.

“Nick, have I ever told you that I love you?” she asked, just to see if she could say the words. Easy enough—now why couldn’t she say them to Deacon? Or have them spoken to her?

“Sure you’re saying that to the right fella?” Nick’s laughter died as soon as he noticed her melancholy state and drew closer to her, wrapping her up in a loose hug. He held her long enough, uncaring that they had somewhere to be. When he pulled away, he tilted her chin up with a few fingers and offered a fleeting smile. “Love you too, doll.”

June 17th, 1958

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love wet socks?”

Deacon’s hushed voice echoed through the underground tunnel, barely audible over the rushing sound of water that flowed around them and beneath their feet. He was walking a few paces behind Madelyn while Nick advanced ahead, trying his best to ignore the spy’s outburst as he focused on following the makeshift map in his hand.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes at the shine from the flashlight he carried. “Once or twice, yes.”

“Wish I had the same idea as you, Charmer,” he sneered, flicking the light across her outfit. She had the foresight to wear the shoes that had already been damaged the last time she went walking through a sewer, and one of her older dresses that despite Codsworth’s cleanings, was still stained with questionable material. “Or is that some kind of bad omen?”

She instantly whipped back around so he wouldn’t see her disappointed frown, though judging by his silence, he knew he’d crossed a line by using those words. Madelyn knew she’d come to regret not letting him say what he wanted to—needed to—but did he have to be so cruel? At first, she was grateful for him to be at her side in this so-called final fight, relying on him for that extra bit of emotional strength and comfort he could provide so well. But now, she almost wished he had stayed topside with Piper and the others or gone with Sergeant Sullivan through the main entrance. His presence was only causing her emotional turmoil, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

This time, Nick was the one to turn back to look at her, his scowl indicating that he’d heard their conversation. Madelyn knew he likely had a litany of strongly worded advice for the other man, but she shook her head, silencing him before he could even start. This was neither the time or place—not when they were quite literally in the belly of the beast.

“Should be a latch up ahead,” he said instead, turning back to lead the two down the dark passageway. It took a few more yards before they reached a ladder that led to a metal door, and if the map layouts were accurate as they had been so far, it would take them to a larger, less water-logged room. “Into the unknown.”

Nick didn’t wait for anyone to volunteer before climbing the metal rungs first, pausing at the latch to fiddle with the lock. “Watch your heads!”

Madelyn and Deacon sidestepped the padlock as it crashed into the shallow water at their feet, craning their heads upwards to watch as the detective disappeared through the newly opened hole. She anxiously looked to her Railroad partner, motioning for him to climb first, and he hesitated, passing her the flashlight before finally moving. There was some disappointment as she watched him ascend, secretly hoping there would be some teasing remark about insisting she go first so that he might sneak a peak up her skirt. Instead, the persistent silence between them started to break her heart. Madelyn thought about blurting out how she felt, but it hardly felt romantic. Rather, it felt stupid. Maybe she’d missed her chance. After how many missed opportunities over the last several weeks to tell him, now was when she desperately wanted to say those three little words.

I love you.

Okay, not so little. Talk about timing.

Nick’s face peered over the ledge and only then did she realize she’d been standing frozen, stuck in her thoughts. “What did I say about standing pretty?”

She forced a laugh and climbed up to meet them, allowing Deacon to hoist her up the rest of the way despite the fact his touch was like fire against her skin. His hand squeezed against her arm, thumb brushing along the soft underside of her wrist as he stared at her. It was delicate, as if she’d shatter if he pressed too hard. Madelyn lingered until she was sure he could feel the rapid beat of her pulse and slowly pulled away.

Nick pretended to have not seen the exchange, focused on the set of locked doors that led to various parts of the underground system. At the back of the storage room was a freight elevator—where it led was anybody’s guess. The detective consulted the folded-up blueprints again, twisting them around in his hands and tapping the sheet to signify where they were.

“If we take...this door,” he pointed west. “We’ll head further down into some kind of storage complex, and…”

“And what?” Madelyn asked, stepping further away from Deacon so she could peer at the carefully drawn diagrams on the paper.

Nick shrugged, clearly puzzled. “Not sure. Just looks like one big empty room according to this.”

She looked back to Deacon to see if he had anything to add, but he remained silent, doing nothing to help her nerves. She sighed. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

The hallway beyond the western door smelt sterile, reminiscent of a hospital, the lingering scent of alcohol threatening to burn her nostrils if she breathed in too deep. As they descended a narrow staircase, the stench intensified as their surroundings shifted from the drab to the pristine. For being underground, it felt like walking into a museum. It felt otherworldly, untouched by time.

“Damn,” Deacon finally spoke—breathed—as they stepped out onto the landing, which overlooked a seemingly never-ending room of storage containers, computers and other technology.

There were metal platforms connected to more observation stations, with staircases that led further into the depths of the underground bunker. The possibilities of what they might find were endless. Near the back, shadowed in darkness, was the faint glow of a reactor core—no wonder the Institute had been become so powerful, so quickly, all while boasting the use of clean energy.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Madelyn asked, perturbed by the slight humming that echoed through the large room.

“Do you have a Geiger counter?” Deacon asked, and she glanced at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He frowned. “Won’t be able to tell until we take a closer look.”

“Of course,” Nick grumbled. “Let’s split up, see what we can find in those rooms on the way over.”

Madelyn’s only comfort was that they could easily see each other as they walked along the platforms, but was still apprehensive, especially when both men removed their holstered weapons. It was more alarming to see Deacon armed, the pistol an unusual sight. Even in their most dangerous of operations, he’d relied on wits rather than steel. She had her own revolver, and quickly pulled it from underneath her skirts with a small flourish. With a silent nod, they each took a different path.

Madelyn reached a small alcove before the others, the tiny windowed room filled with filing cabinets and scattered paperwork across two desks. There was a stack of files that she idly flipped through, the words on the page confirming that the Institute had been performing or had been attempting to perform brain augmentations for years. As far as she could discern, the files contained information on potential targets—if the college had been successful in capturing them, or if something else had occurred. Many had been ultimately passed over for frivolous reasons, and the reports read like rejected job applicants rather than candidates for brainwashing. Her absentminded browsing stopped dead-cold when she came across an all too familiar name.

Madelyn nearly fainted at the picture pinned to the inside of the file. “Nate?”

“Now, isn’t this precious?”

She knew that voice without needing to turn around. It had been nearly two years, but she was instantly transported to Christmas Eve, 1946 and that dark, snowy, Boston Common alley where her husband was murdered. That same electric chill ran through her body—head to toe—rooting her to the spot. No amount of fear she’d experienced in the last six months could compare to the sensation crawling across her skin, threatening to close off her windpipe without so much as a gasp.

His footsteps slowly echoed against the metal flooring, drawing closer until she could feel his body heat radiating, circling around her form until he was in perfect view.

“Kellogg,” she forced herself to say, gripping the gun at her side.

He grinned in that hauntingly familiar, devilish way, not surprised that she knew his name. “In the flesh.”

There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask—about Nate’s murder, about Shaun Perlman’s kidnapping, about all the other unsolved cases he was supposedly linked to. Was he really an Institute experiment gone wrong, or some kind of pawn? His very presence seemed to answer that last one loud and clear. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was reprimanding herself for not shooting first, and asking questions later. She’d made that mistake before and it nearly cost Nick his life—and had ended Jenny’s. That couldn’t happen now. Just as her hand twitched and she made to raise her revolver, he advanced towards her, pinning her against the glass window. The sound was loud enough to alert her partners where they stood yards away on sperate platforms.

“Charmer!”

“Madelyn!”

“How cute,” Kellogg taunted, the phrase familiar and gut wrenching all the same. “Who should I kill this time?”

He roughly pushed her aside so that she collapsed against one of the desks. As he left, he tossed a device over his shoulder that immediately filled the room with smoke, grey plumes billowing out into the main area. Madelyn clamped her eyes shut as she spluttered and coughed, struggling to pull herself to stand after smacking her head against the edge of the desk. She blindly reached for her gun and resigned herself to crawl to the doorway before using the railings to drag her body upright. To the left, she could see the faint outline of Nick’s trench coat but to the right, she could see two bodies—Kellogg and Deacon—scuffling along the walkway.

Without a second thought she forced herself to go—to run—back the way she came and to where they were. The smoke made it difficult to see clearly, but Deacon’s gun was gone—they were now fighting for Kellogg’s, swapping positions when one would gain the upper hand to pin the other to the guard railing. In the time it took Madelyn to rush over, Deacon found enough leverage to push the other man over the ledge, but Kellogg wouldn’t give up so easily. He held onto the railing with one hand and swung his other arm up to shoot. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, giving Madelyn little time to act.

“Deacon!” she shouted for him to move out of the way, raising her pistol so her sights were aimed directly on Kellogg’s scar. When he didn’t move, her mind went blank save for one thing. “Johnathan!”

He immediately turned to her, the momentary shock fading away as he finally dove for cover. Kellogg could only laugh, and even Madelyn wondered why he hadn’t taken the opportunity to shoot Deacon—or them both—dead. His grip on the railing tightened as he attempted to pull himself up, to no avail.

“You aren’t going to shoot me,” he spat. “You won’t kill me.”

Eddie Winter had said the same thing, before running away. From where she stood, there wasn’t anywhere for Kellogg to run. Madelyn didn’t feel like hesitating anymore, not after what he’d taken from her. The smug smile slowly returned to his face as he trained the same gun he’d used all those years ago at her—but she was faster—pulling the trigger just once.

Bullseye.

The sound was deafening and shook her to the core. She watched, shaking as Kellogg’s death-grip slowly loosened until he finally slipped from the ledge and down to the chasm below, the thump of his body against the floor a chilling indication that part of their mission was over. Tears instantly clouded her vision, and she sucked in as much air as she could, blindly reaching out for the nearest railing with her free hand as her knees gave out. Deacon was at her side in an instant, scrambling to collect her in his arms as he took the gun from her trembling hand before wrapping her in a tight embrace.

“Shh,” he hushed, pressing soft but urgent kisses against her temple as he combed his fingers through her hair. “I’m here, I’m here.”

Madelyn wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, Deacon whispering incoherent, comforting words into the shell of her, but it was what she desperately needed as her heart threatened to burst from her chest. They both whipped around at the sudden sound of rushing footsteps against the walkway, breathing a sigh of relief when they saw it was only Nick, looking just as disheveled as they did.

“Whoa, whoa,” he raised his hands in defense, carefully observing the scene before him. “It’s just me. Had to take care of two crazed androids. Makes sense now that I see who they showed up with.”

“Yeah,” Madelyn answered, still clutching Deacon’s arm in the fear she might topple over out of shock. Nick didn’t bother asking her if she was—or would be—alright as he silently peered over the ledge with a grim expression. He’d been in her shoes—revenge wasn’t as sweet as people claimed it to be. She pinched the bridge of her nose and found her voice.

“They—they were looking for candidates,” she began, pointing back to the room where she’d found the files before she’d been rudely interrupted. “For brain augmentation, for—” she broke off, unable to stand the thought. “Nick, they had a file on Nate.”

His eyebrows jumped up in surprise before furrowing in anger, but to her surprise, his fury was calmer than hers. He gestured to a databank further back. “Come on, let’s find out what these bastards are hiding.”

The computer was surrounded by towering processors—technology that Madelyn had never seen, even when she’d been to the Switchboard. Nick didn’t seem daunted, at least by the screen and output, immediately leaning over to type commands like it was his job. Deacon only slipped away when she assured him she would be okay, and she watched as he carefully approached the reactor they’d seen before.

“We weren’t wrong,” Nick muttered, sounding not entirely confident. Madelyn studied his profile, attempting to decipher the information flashing before her eyes on the tiny screen. “But we were wrong about a lot of things, too.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Nick pressed his fingers against a few more keys. “It’s not just brain surgery, or brainwashing we’re looking at, here.”

“Those candidates you were looking at?” he tapped his prosthetic fingers against his screen, creating an eerie kind of sound. “If they didn’t work out for procedure one, they were used for procedure two.”

“Being?”

“DNA harvesting,” Nick said bleakly. “To be used in the production of new androids. To make them...as close to human as possible.”

Madelyn was already connecting the dots in her mind, her chest tightening in dread. “Nate?”

Nick didn’t say anything at first, nervous as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Close. You.”

“Hair sample, 1956,” he continued, explaining before she had a chance to react. Still, she nearly collapsed in disbelief. He looked at her face-on, his sympathetic expression not doing much to quell her fears. “How’d—”

“He—that bastard,” she answered, refusing to use Kellogg’s name. “He tore some from my scalp.”

I prefer brunettes—his voice still echoed in her mind, causing a chill to run through her.

“Always thought it was as a trophy. Never thought it would be for some sick experiment.”

Her partner studied the screen, clicking through more pages. “I don’t think they were successful with sequencing anything, if that gives you any piece of mind.”

“Hardly,” she mumbled, wondering if there was still the slim possibility that somewhere in the facility—or even out on the streets of Boston—there was a rogue synth with her DNA. It was petrifying to even consider.

“God damn,” Nick suddenly cursed, his hands shaking. “They have Shaun Pearlman’s DNA!”

Madelyn wasn’t surprised by that. “That makes sense, doesn’t it? He was essentially kidnapped by the Institute.”

The detective shook his head, and dared to smile, even if it quickly disappeared from his face. “It says here he’s alive. Just as it says you are.”

Now she was as alarmed as he was. “What else does it say?”

“It has a location and—” he frantically patted at his coat pockets for a notepad and pen, passing off to Madelyn so she could scribble down the information. “He’s been right under our noses this entire time!”

“So,” Deacon’s voice interrupted their shared excitement. “Remember when you asked if we’d have a problem?”

Madelyn looked over to where the Railroad spy was bent over, inspecting an exposed panel of wiring in front of the reactor. Her enthusiasm started to fade. “Vaguely.”

“Do you also remember somebody mentioning that the Institute might be hiding a bomb?”

“I distinctly remember that somebody being you, Deacon,” she answered, struggling to swallow down her growing anxiety.

He nervously chuckled. “Just had to go and jinx us, didn’t I?”

“Why the hell does the Institute have a bomb?” Nick asked, more angry than anything. He pointed an accusatory finger at Deacon. “I know about you and your Railroad mole. Whose to say they didn’t plant it there just to screw with us?”

Deacon didn’t seem surprised that Madelyn had let that information slip to the detective and didn’t seem upset by the accusations either. That, or he was a little preoccupied with not blowing up. “What, ol’ Doc Rendezvous? Never.”

“More plausible that Scarface down there,” he pointed to where Kellogg had met his demise. “Had this as a backup plan. Last minute gambit to get his way. Nasty, but effective. Take down everybody in…I’d say a half-mile radius with him.”

Madelyn finally asked the obvious. “How long do we have?”

Deacon wasn’t the one to answer.

“I’d say approximately twenty minutes.”

The man had appeared on the platform behind them as if he had materialized from thin air. Madelyn recognized him instantly as the Institute’s Director—the same nameless, silver haired man who had appeared at the university’s demonstration in early May. The man who had calmed Mayor McDonough and the crowd with five easy words—everything will be alright. He didn’t make an appearance unless it was absolutely necessary.

“What are you doing here?” she questioned.

“I’ve come to stop you, of course,” he answered, folding his hands together. “I am aware of your investigation, and that you know who I am—who we are.”

Instead of getting angry, like she knew she was capable of becoming, and how she knew Nick wanted to react, Madelyn tried a little civility. She wanted desperately to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

The Director appeared pleased for the time being and stepped closer. “To advance the Commonwealth into a new age, of course. Here at the Institute, we aren’t simply trying to better life, we are trying to create it.”

“Nobody should be able to play God,” Nick argued.

“No, no,” he shook his head in disagreement. “Think of me instead as…a father.”

Madelyn didn’t know which was worse. Her skin crawled and in such a short timespan she decided that this man didn’t deserve her respect. “One of your experiments killed my husband. Kidnapped an innocent baby boy. Murdered countless others. How can you explain that?”

“It is unfortunate that Mister Kellogg turned out the way he did,” the Director said, showing little signs of remorse. “As with the others like him. Rest assured, we have rectified that issue.”

“Oh no,” Nick waved his hands, disgusted by the very thought. “You aren’t going to be sending any synths to infiltrate Boston, or anywhere else. The jig is up, and we’re here to expose your little party for all it’s worth.”

The other man was not phased. “Is that so?”

“The Institute’s days of experimenting is over,” Madelyn clarified. “And you can kiss your military contracts goodbye too. While you’re down here, buttering us up with false bravado, the campus is crawling with our good men, Boston P.D. that haven’t been swayed by your dirty money.”

“Between the evidence collected here and what we have stored away at the agency? Once it’s all been handed over to the Feds, I wouldn’t be surprised if they cooked you alive on the grounds for treason,” she elaborated.

A heavy pause filled the space between them.

“Not if that bomb destroys us all,” the Director countered in a calm voice. It seemed it would take a lot more to crack his thick veneer. “There’d be no evidence left. Just dust and rumors.”

Deacon was suddenly skeptical. “Now that you mention it Nick, do you mind if I ask you who rigged this thing, oh mighty father?”

The Director shifted uncomfortably before answering. “A freshman student by the name of—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Deacon stopped him with a wave of his hand. “That won’t be necessary. Did they happen to use special blueprints? Maybe got some advice from an old friend at the ‘mechanic’s shop’?”

Madelyn snapped her hand to her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh at his exaggerated use of air quotes. Still, the Director seemed baffled, and ultimately nodded. “I—he, yes. Yes, he did.”

“Ha!” Deacon clapped his hands together and kicked his foot against the exposed wiring, which caused everyone else to flinch backward in distress. “This thing is a dud! It might destroy the bunker, sure, but all of Cambridge? You’re out of your damn mind.”

Nick was amused, and this time the grin stuck to his face. “Maybe it’s you who needs the brain augmentation.”

The Director floundered, unexpecting to be outwitted in his own home, in his own Institute. He looked about ready to rant and rave until he was red in the face, pausing only when there was a commotion at the front of the large corridor. The calvary had arrived—just in time.

“Valentine! Hardy!” Sergeant Sullivan rushed across the metal walkway, a few of his officers and Preston Garvey following closely behind. He slowed upon approach, nervously eyeing the stand-off before him with his weapon half-raised. “The situation upstairs is contained. The department heads started singing like canaries the moment we floated treason as a possible charge.”

“What?” The Director huffed, eyes wide in disbelief. “That’s impossible!”

“What did she tell ya’?” Nick sneered at the man, tilting his head at Madelyn.

A piecing sound rang through the large room that continued on every beat of a second, the confusion falling away from everyone’s faces as they all looked to the bomb and its timer. Deacon took three measured steps away from the platform before scurrying away, practically wrapping his arms around Madelyn in and effort to get her to move with him as quickly as they could to safety.

“Is that—”

“Yes,” Nick answered, interrupting Preston’s question. “A bomb. And we’ve got less than five minutes to get back to the surface. So let’s cut the chatter and get moving!”

The Sergeant made to grab the Director so that he could handcuff the man first, even if it would make escorting him topside a difficult task.

“You’ll never take me alive!” he shouted, rushing away from the group and towards the bomb as it continued beeping.

Sullivan shook his head, withdrawing immediately with his arms raised in defeat. “Suit yourself.”

Madelyn almost suggested that Deacon toss her over his shoulder the way he sprinted along the walkway with her at his side, causing her to almost trip on the stairs. She took one last glance at the underground bunker and the lone Director before they made their ascent up the narrow staircase. With less than five minutes to navigate the tunnels back to the surface, there wasn’t time to talk, or hesitate, so she focused on nothing but the next step forward, barely remembering to breathe until her lungs screamed for air.

It wasn’t until somebody—Lieutenant Danse—was helping her from the manhole that she realized she’d blocked out their escape, stumbling off in a daze and pressing a hand to her head—did she have a concussion? Was she going into shock?

“We’re evacuating the building,” a deep voice, maybe it belonged to the soldier, or one of Sullivan’s men, she couldn’t tell. “Get her out of here!”

Familiar arms encircled her. “Madelyn? Charmer?”

She blinked, focusing on Deacon’s worried expression, even though she couldn’t see most of his face. “You said…my name.”

He smiled. “Well that’s what it is, isn’t it?”

She smiled too.

“Come on,” grabbed her hand, leading her into a light jog towards a small gathering of people on the banks of the Charles River. Piper and some of Preston’s Minutemen were standing with evacuees from the campus, looking on as more people rushed out to look on.

While their backs were still turned to the building, there was a rumbling, not unlike an earthquake, followed by what Madelyn knew to be a series of explosions, people tumbling to the ground as the world around them shook. Despite the bomb setting off underground, the destruction was still felt and seen above ground. When the dust settled, a deep crevice appeared in the center of the campus courtyard, a few stone columns were toppled over, and a fire had broken out in the inside rotunda. So much for a dud.

Deacon wrapped his arm around Madelyn’s shoulder, tucking her close as smoke billowed to the sky, the haunting sign that the Institute’s hold on Boston was no more.

It was all over.

#fallout 4 #noir au #deacon x f!solesurvivor #deacon #madelyn hardy #nick valentine #+the entire GD cast okay #spoiler characters too #the grand finale is here folks with just the epilogue to follow #;____;#fallout fanfic

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princecharmingmendes · 4 years

Text

Paris | Day Nine

When your parents decide to travel with your best friend’s family that you haven’t talked to in a while, who you have a massive secret crush on, what could go wrong, right? Right?! (best friends to lovers)

*Hi, honey, this is the last part of Paris (my first series here) and I really do hope you love it!

*Word Count: 3.7K+

*Warnings: cursing, drinking, angst, kissing (?), extreme fluff;

*Posted: January 30th, 2020

-*-

I started waking up feeling a little cold. not sensing Shawn's presence close to me, even though I'm quite sure I slept with him last night. Instead of fully waking up, I decided to let myself surrender to my tired state and go back to sleep completely. What felt like a long time later, I started to realize my surroundings better, a tale tell sign I was actually waking up for real tgis time, but now I felt warm and comfy.

"Baby?" I heard his voice softly calling me, so I just hummed in response and he pulled me closer to his chest from behind, since he seems to be the big spoon "you awake?"

"Mmhm"

"Do you want to get up?"

"No"

"Great, cause I bought you breakfast" he said placing a kiss on the tip of my nose, making me smile.

"Hey, you did what?"

“I woke up earlier and you were too cute, so I decided not to wake you up and went on the market to get us something to have a nice late breakfast in bed”

“Oh my, I love you so damn much” I said nuzzling my face on his neck.

“Love you too” he said hugging me tighter.

“Where’s the food?”

“There” he said chuckling and pointing to an improvised tray with a whole lot of food.

“That’s too much”

“I’m eating too”

“Still too much”

“I’ll eat it tomorrow” he said chuckling.

“Fair enough” I said sitting on the bed as he got up to get the food “what time is it?”

“It’s 12:30”

“What time is lunch?”

“Three”

“Great” I said smiling and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he sat down beside me.

So we ended up eating so much that we got too lazy to move, so we ended up laying down again until we really had to get up to get ready for lunch. We ended up a little late and decided to meet our parents at the restaurant, which led us to a lot of accusations of our situation “you two were too cozy to move” or “it’s because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves”.

Could they be more annoying? Still love them though.

We were the main attention during lunch, specially because they’ve been dreaming for us to get together since my mom found out she was having a girl on year younger than Karen’s boy. Apart from that, we spent the whole time talking about the best moments of the trip and some funny stories that not everyone knew. They also asked about our day on Disneyland which led to pictures and more jokes about how me and Shawn would look perfect together.

After that, we headed to our rooms to get our bags and clothes ready for tomorrow, since today was the last day. Shawn helped with mine and I helped him with his. When we were both settled down on my bed, we started watching something to kill time.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” He asked out of the blue, turning to me.

“Hm... eat?”

“No, honey” he said laughing “do you want to order? Want to go out?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hm… me? Nothing big... I just... I got reservations on a boat for Dinner on the Siena River”

“You what?”

“Just in case you wanted something nice”

“When did you do that?!”

“The day we went to the same boat”

“Shit, Shawn, can’t believe you”

“We don’t have to, I just... don’t know, wanted to give you something special” he said shrugging.

“Shawnie... you didn’t have to, you are the best thing I could have right now” I said holding his hand.

“Thank you” he said kissing my hands.

“No, thank YOU, but yes, I’d love to go there with you” I said smiling at him “just the two of us?”

“Mmhmm” he said biting his lower lip.

“I’d love it” I said smiling at him and he did the same, pulling me into his embrace.

“At eight, before you ask me”

“Thank you so much”

“It’s okay, baby” he said smiling down at me.

I got up an hour earlier than we were supposed to leave because I wanted to look extra good tonight, just in case I decide to do something or maybe to push him to do or say something. So I got in the shower and spent extra time shaving and moisturizing my whole body, also watched and blowed dry my hair. I did a really basic makeup look, only red lipstick, highlighter and fake lashes that stand out more, the rest I kept looking as natural as I could.

When I was finally ready, I knocked on Shawn’s room to make sure he wasn’t naked and got in, being met with him with a button up that I love, a scarf and winter jacket, and his tight black slacks that I love so much. But the best part was his reaction. He looked at me and seemed so chocked I ended up giggling like a teenager. He sucked in a breath and trapped his lower lip between his lips and I swear I heard a little suppressed whimper.

“God, Y/N, this is just unfair”

“What?” I asked looking down at my outfit.

I was wearing my new pair of thigh highs boots and a leather black tight skirt. I had a lacy see through in the nicest places long sleeved bodysuit with my plaid scarf. I had also had a really heavy coat hanging on my arm for when we were outside. My hair had the front clipped back nicely and I decided to use a clear gloss on top of my red lipstick, that matched my scarf.

“All heads are going to turn to you”

“And...?”

“I wasn’t intending on sharing your attention tonight” he said chuckling at his own little joke “not that you can’t, it’s just that...”

“I know what you meant, Shawnie” I said grinning at him “shall we?” I asked offering my hand and he quickly grabbed it, kissing it lightly.

“Yeah”

-*-

As we got there, someone already showed us our table, that was close to the big windows that presented us with the beautiful sightings through the whole dinner thing. We sat across from each other and they placed the menus on the table, quickly leaving us alone. I was completely speechless with the whole thing, still admiring the pretty view and the pretty boy in front of me.

“Still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m just overwhelmed I guess” I said smiling softly at him.

“In a good way?”

“In the best way” I said as I felt him lacing our fingers together on the table “why did you do all this?”

“I just felt like it”

“Okay, why did you feel like it?”

“I wanted to spoil you a little, to compensate for my shitty friendship lately”

“You didn’t have to”

“I did”

“But I already forgave you”

“But I didn’t”

“You should”

“I don’t want to argue with you”

“It’s fair, thank you for everything, this whole trip’s been incredible, specially because of you”

“I can say the same thing” he said bringing my hand to his lips softly “I love you and missed you way too much”

“Missed you too”

“But you won’t have to anymore, I won’t let you go anymore”

“I hope you don’t” I said and he chuckled lightly.

“So, how’s college?”

“Hm, it’s nice...”

And that’s how we spent most of our night, lightly chatting and exchanging delicate caresses, something innocent but still too intimate for just a friendship. The whole dinner made me feel so special but so confused, it’s like he’s trying to tell me something but can’t, it’s weird to not read him like a book.

As we were going upstairs, I started changing the weight from one leg to another due to the new heels and he noticed, literally swapping me off my feet making me giggle. He chuckled on the elevator and held me close, carrying me bridal style to our rooms, where he placed me on my bed and gave me some space to shower or change into my pj’s. So I decided to take one last shower and when I left I saw him looking like such boyfriend material my heart sank on my chest.

“Hey”

“Hey, Shawn, are you going to sleep in here?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind the company”

“I don’t”

“Great” he said offering me his hand, which I took and he pulled me onto the bed, making me fall on his chest laughing.

“Hi” I said a little lower since I was practically on top of him, with our faces mere inches from the other.

I saw him swallowing hard and that made my heart stop. I tried getting up but his arms kept me there in a vice grip, no letting me move an inch. His gaze dropped to my lips and it was my turn to swallow hard and start to have a heart attack. His pink tongue appeared to wet his pout and I didn’t dare to look away, which made me feel incredibly warm on the right places.

He leaned in even closer, so close I could feel his breath on my lips and his brushing against mine. My eyes fell shut as I stood as hard as a stone on his arms, trying not to move as much as I could. But when I decided to lean even closer to crash my lips on his he pulled away, looking at the Eiffel Tower outside. That was it, I couldn’t take anymore.

“You are always saying I can’t do this or that to you, but you are definitely not allowed to do that” I said taping his chest and getting up making him sit up.

“What are you talking about?”

“You just can’t okay? Isn’t that what you always say to me?!”

“Y/N... honey, listen” he said stretching his hand on my direction but I took a step back.

“No, YOU listen!” I said pointing at his face “you can’t show up out of nowhere and do this to me, after months of not even calling me and treating me like a princess! Just so in two months you find someone new who’ll only break your heart so you’ll come back to me to glue all the pieces back in, this is fucking unfair, Shawn”

“Y/N...”

“Don’t” I said looking outside “you won’t do this to me again okay? I’m not falling for your tricks again”

“Which tricks are you talking about?”

“Oooh, now you don’t know?” I asked sarcastically, feeling the lump on my throat forming and the tears trying to spill. Fuck!

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Of course you don’t, you don’t even notice you do this! How could I’ve been so dumb?! Ooh you’re so good, Mendes”

“You’re not making any sense, please look at me, honey, explain it”

“I’m trying to!” I said looking his way when I felt the first tear roll down my face “I’ve been trying to tell you for years but you’re just a dumb boy! What I’m trying to say is you can’t come around when you’re not with a girl just to make me feel like I’m the only one you care about, taking me to dinners, cuddling till I’m asleep, calling me ‘baby’ and stuff, taking me to Disney, taking me to fancy dinners, almost kissing me and then just giving up, you can’t do this to me, not when I’ve always been here and always been fucking in love with you, and the worst part is that you don’t even notice it! God, you’re just so good, I wish I could hate you! I...”

“You love me love me?” He asked cutting me off.

“That’s all you got from what I’ve said?!”

“Shut up for a second, dummie”

“Shawn...”

“No, just think” he said and I sat down in front of him “when was the last time you saw me doing all of this for a girl? Never! And that’s because I’ve been in love with you for ages, you idiot! I’ve never acted on it because I thought you would reject me and I would lose you for real, like not having you even as a friend”

“You called me an idiot?!”

“Y/N, this really doesn’t matter right now, does it?” He asked softly cupping my face on his big hands and I shook my head “I love you and only you, and I’m sorry I’ve made you think differently, and it’s always been you, since I’m a teenager, or not even then, I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do now”

“I love you too” I said barely in a whisper and he smiled so brightly that he could light up this whole town as he pulled me to straddle his thighs.

“Now I know, honey” he said hugging me tight by my waist and kissing my forehead making me shake my head “What?”

“Wrong place, asshole” I said and he only chuckled lightly, leaning closer to me and rubbing our noses lightly together.“

You’re the worst” he said brushing his lips with mine.

“I know, and you love it” I said finally crashing out lips together.Kissing him felt like nothing I’ve ever thought about, not even close, not even in my wildest dreams. His lips felt like heaven. The perfect combination between soft and firm, sweet but filled with desire, and in the right pace. Everything fell into place. When his tongue met mine I literally melted, and released the softest moan I could but he listened and deepen the kiss in seconds.

“You’re literally perfect” he said breaking the kiss to recover his breath and rested his forehead against mine “I’m so sorry”

“For what?”

“For waiting way too long to talk to you and to kiss you”

“I’ll forgive you...”“You will? As in you haven’t yet?!”

“Hm... dunno, maybe you should kiss me again to help me forgive you faster” I said and he chuckled.

And that’s how we almost lost breakfast on the next morning to check out, because we simply couldn’t keep our hands off each other and ended up going too late to bed, but at least was worth it. He’s always worth it.

-*-

*a few months later*

“Okay, what are the reasons that I should move in with you again?” I asked laying with my foot propped against the headboard of my bed as I spoke with Shawn that was on the bathroom getting ready for bed in my tiny apartment.

“Well, first, my bed is bigger”

“I can always buy a bigger bed” I said playing with the strings of my (his) hoodie.

“My place is bigger and safer”

“I don’t care about the size, you should know that by now, Mendes” I said obviously mocking him, but he turned on the bathroom to face me, and even though I was seeing him upside down, I could see the furrow on his brows “I’m kidding, baby, don’t be mad at me”

“I’m not punishing you with tickles right now because I’m trying to make a point here and you look so damn cute in my clothes” he said closing the bathroom door coming to the room and sitting at the end of the bed “oh, and you know damn well that size is not the problem here, neither is making you c...”

“Okay, okay, I was joking, I’m sorry, I know” I rapidly cut him off feeling my face heat up.

“Okay, back to the real deal, my place is the same distance from college and I go to the same school as you, we could go together, less gas and driving involved”

“Keep going”

“You wouldn’t need to worry about packing every single time you go there and neither would I, we could always wake up next to each other, it would be cheaper since we would be sharing bills”

“Anything else?”

“I would always be there for you physically when you need me, we can split chores, be in each other’s company, it’s closer to your parent’s house, Flo can come visit you and sleep on the guest room, I would be able to spoil you...”

“You already do that”

“And even though our relationship thing is a little over ten months, we’ve known each other forever and I’ve always loved you, so you don’t have to afraid of us not working out, we’ve been for the past twenty years!”

“Shawn...”

“What?” He asked softly, playing with my hair but I quickly sat up to not let his sweet touches mess up with my mind.

“It’s late, I had a tough week and so did you, can we talk about this some other day?”

“Honey, you’ve been putting this conversation off for a month now!”

“I know, I just want to think clearly about this and for that I need space and time” I said holding his hand and kissing it gently “I’m sorry, baby”

Shawn sighed heavily and nodded, letting go of my hand and getting up.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not supposed to leave?”

“No! Are you insane? Why would you think that?”

“You said you needed time and space, I was going to give you that” he said lowering his head.

I kneeled on the bed and dragged myself to the end of the bed to cup his face, forcing him to look at me.

“Baby... I didn’t mean for you to go, I need you here with me right now, okay?”

“I’m sorry”

“For what, Shawnie?”

“For being so insistent and annoying”“You’re not, baby, I swear, I understand you, I really do, and you don’t annoy me at all, I actually find it really cute”

“So you’re not mad at me?” He asked and I shook my head “so you’re actually considering moving in with me?”

I nodded and I saw a glimpse of hope between so much love pouring out of his eyes and whole body language that in that moment I knew I was hooked with him forever.

“I love you so much” I said softly wrapping my arms around his neck and his hands flew to my waist.

“I love you more” he said kissing me as if I was made of glass, so softly and gently that I could barely enjoy it enough “let’s get some sleep, eh? I know you haven’t been able to sleep well the past few days, I hope I can finally help with that” he said pulling the duvet for me.I laid back on my side of the bed and covered myself as I felt Shawn’s side dip under his weight.

He delicately pulled me to his chest, where I rested my head to listen to his steady heartbeat to lure me to sleep, one of his hands rubbing up and down my back while the other was tangled in my hair, caressing it softly. I place a gentle kiss on his chest and I felt him give a gentle squeeze on the back of my neck in return. He turned off the lights and I hugged him tighter to me, taking in his scent to clear my head.

“Shawn?” I called him barely in a whisper after a few minutes of pure silence and finally feeling my whole body relax against his warm form.

“Hm”

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah, anything wrong, honey?” He asked with concern laced on his voice.

“Actually, there is something wrong but can easily be fixed”

“And what is it?”

“My place is kinda small, my bed sucks, it’s not the safest apartment, it’s not that close to my parents house, it’s not the cheapest and I have to do all on my own, Flo always have to sleep at the living room or with me, I always have to pack to go to your place, I have to walk alone or drive everyday alone to campus, you’re not always here to wake up with me and to be here physically whenever I need you”

“Oh, yeah? And what do you suggest us to do to solve that problem?” He asked playfully, the smile clear on his voice.

“I guess I should move in with you then” I said simply shrugging and he chuckled.

“Okay, sweetheart, I think you should really sleep now” he said kissing the top of my head and I place my chin on his sternum, starring at him as best as I could with the only source of light being from the moon.

“But I’m actually serious” I said and I saw realization hit him “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and you’re actually right in every single point you’ve made, it would be best for both of us, and I know our parents would love it actually”

“Are you really saying that you’re moving in with me?”

“Yes, Shawn, I want to move in with you, whenever you want me to” I said and I swear his smile could light up the whole apartment.

“Oh my God, Y/N, are you really serious? You swear?!”

“I do, baby, I swear, this is not a joke, I just finally realize how much I love you and need you with me”

“I love you too, oh my God” he said crashing his lips on mine, this time not as gentle as before.

He was quickly licking into my mouth like he had the whole time on the planet, with so much passion and love that I almost melted in his embrace. His hand on my back was holding me so tightly against him like I was going to escape or disappear, and the hand at the back of my neck was also holding me in place.

I grabbed a fist full of his curls, tugging lightly at it, electing a low moan from him, followed by a sequence of pecks all over my face, including my lips and the tip of my nose. Finally when he stopped his ‘assault’ on my face, I placed my forehead on top of his brushing or noses together, trying to catch my breath.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me” he said softly “you and that trip to Paris”

“Where everything started”

“No, honey, where everything fell into place” he said placing one last kiss on my lips before guiding me into dreamland.

The End

-*-

*Thank you guys so much for sticking with me until the end of this series, it’s actually really sad to announce this, but still, I’m so thankful for everyone who liked, reblogged and supported this series in general, so yeah, thank you so much, this meant a lot to me

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know if I’m supposed to keep posting.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo*

-🌙

@fivefeetapartt

62 notes · View notes

mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 11: Kiss Me

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Thursday November 27, 2008

“One more.”

“They’re probably wondering where we’ve gone!”

“Just one more, please.”

“We’ve already been here for more than half an hour.”

Harry tightens his hold around her waist, stroking her sides in soothing reciprocating motions as the pads of his fingers trace along the creases in her shirt. “Kiss me again,” he begs, burying his nose into the curve of her neck. For the first time in his life, he feels completely content. Words to describe it are beyond inconceivable, not a single phrase can do justice to sum it all up. He had tried to imagine what this would be like in the early hours of the morning before even the sun sets its alarm. And yet, none could have even come close to this feeling of bliss, a paradise of their own where everything around them is nearly nonexistent.

The movement of his lips against her skin as they form into a cheeky smile is enough to send goosebumps up her spine. She runs her palms up his chest and lets her hands curl around his shoulders until her middle fingers hook together as they tangle through his brown curls. Her cheek presses up against the side of his head, and she can’t help that sense of relief that makes it feel like she’s floating. Having experienced such a burden of uncertainty from the very onset of their relationship (and yes, she means relationship in a romantic sense –– how could she not after tonight?) she would have never expected the accumulation of all those heartbreaks –– both big and small –– to transform into something as wonderful as this. “Just one,” she giggles into his ear. “But then we really have to move it because I can’t imagine Mason being very happy that I’ve stolen his best friend away.”

“It’s all I’m asking,” and he lifts his head up, dimples dressing his cheeks as he wriggles his eyebrows. “Now, c’mere.”

Pulling her closer between his legs, he starts with small pecks along the underside of her chin. They become slower, more concentrated in certain areas as they move up and linger at the side of her mouth. His lips hover over hers, and he stares at them with half-hooded eyes. The way her lips part as they make subtle contact with each small movement of their heaving chests only makes this all the more enticing.

Unable to dawdle at such a teasing phase for much longer, Harry closes the gap that separates them. It’s unhurried, nearly sensual. Two longing persons finding exhilaration as their lips move fluidly together as though it were second nature. The temperate flavoring of strawberry or cherry or something just as fruitful and sweet once again finds its way to coat the tip of his tongue and cause the ends of his mouth to curve up as he finds fulfillment in ravishing her like this.

She’s the first to pull away, pushing lightly against his chest just to catch a breath. He’s quick, however, to entertain her once more with one last suckle of her bottom lip. He isn’t sure when he’ll be able to kiss her again once they’ve joined the others downstairs, nor does he want to envision a time when they won’t be locked together and surprisingly uninterrupted by a chaotic world full of mountains and treacherous seas.

“That was two!” she gasps, but the premature stages of a simper rebel against her, and she fails to display any mask of displeasure. “Don’t be greedy.”

“We can be as greedy as we want. We’ve waited an eternity for this to happen,” he counters before settling for a tight embrace as he stands from his sitting position on the bed. With his height now towering over her, he looks down and chuckles when she rolls her eyes at him.

Y/n scoffs playfully and shakes her head. “I would barely consider two and a half months an eternity.”

“No?” he ponders thoughtfully, pressing another kiss to her temples. “Sure felt like it, though.”

***

Every moment thereafter is been filled with forcefully reserved and pining looks from across the room whilst Harry is doing his best to get back in a football state of mind (he’s only now realizing just how difficult this will all be once the season starts back up again), and Y/n attempts to answer questions about various piping techniques and flavor combinations.

“Where’d you run off to earlier?” Jeremy asks during a commercial break. He dips a hand into a snack bowl filled with Party Mix and tosses each cheesy piece into his mouth one by one. “For a second I thought you were going to miss the entire second quarter.”

Harry coughs as he tries to scratch the tickle in his throat. Before coming back down, they had agreed to keep it subdued in front of their families, especially when it’s all so new for the both of them. Besides, they’ve done what they had set out to do, there’s no wrong in wanting to keep it to themselves for a short while.

“Uh...” he drones, scratching the pointed part of his jaw. “We were just talking about organizing a study guide for finals.”

Well, it isn’t a complete lie! He had quickly glanced down at a set of her study notes on her desk just as they were exiting the room, and he might have –– he can’t remember since he was too busy covering her shoulder in sweet, seemingly innocent little kisses –– suggested they collaborate on ones for the classes they share. (Come to think of it, he doesn’t recall an actual answer to the question either, the only thing his ears had heard were the sounds of her stifled giggles as he tickled her neck.)

Thankfully, Jeremy seems to accept it without further question. The older man nods before taking a long gulp of iced tie from his officially licensed Packers tumbler. “That’s studious of you two. Good job!”

“Mhmm.” Harry bites his lips inward to hold in a snigger. Imagining the look on Jeremy’s face if he were to find out what they had actually been doing would probably regress everything in his eyes (but that’s just speculation for the time being).

“Your turn, Harry!” Mason chirps, having just dropped his second red piece into the suspended grid. As Harry prepares to release his own yellow disc in the far-right column, the little boy is quick to stop him. “Don’t go there! Or you’ll lose again,” he pouts, and takes it upon himself to move Harry’s hand and hover it over the middle.

A soft coo sounds from Harry as he ruffles Mason’s hair. “Taking pity on me, eh?” he teases.

“At least he lets you win,” Jeremy interjects, slumping forward with his knuckles pressed firmly into his cheek. He squints at his son with pursed lips. “Whenever I play with him, he sabotages my every move.”

“But Harry’s my best friend, Daddy! And friends always help each other.”

“I’m your father. I quite literally mad–”

“Honey, he’s six” from across the room, Olivia scolds her husband. “Save it for puberty.” She turns back in her chair, the three women around her unable to hide their amusement as she slaps her forehead at Mason’s hushed “What’s poo-berty?” behind her.

“I remember when Harry was that age,” Anne gushes, a warm mug of cocoa sat in her lap as she recalls the past fondly. “He once poured out the entire fish tank into a river that flowed out back.”

“Be free fishies! I love you! Bye-bye!” Gemma mimics a young six-year-old Harry.

Y/n giggles into her hands. She turns to the side hoping to catch his eye, only to find him blushing profusely into one of the decorative pillows.

Falling for him could not have been easier.

***

Monday December 1, 2008

For the eighth time today, Harry feels more than grateful to have her locker only two down from his. It’s a convenience, really! He doesn’t have to search far for her in the mornings when he wants to give her a quick peck before they start the day, or just hug her because now he can without any looming doubts that he’s sorely pressed his luck.

So, here he is, watching with soft eyes as she reorganizes all her textbooks and notebooks and folders alike.

“Will you quit it?” she pokes his tummy. “I literally can’t concentrate when you’re looking at me like that all cute and British.”

The last part makes him laugh, and he curls a finger along her chin. Taking a moment to examine their surrounds to make sure no one is being too intrusive (he thought he saw a junior raise an eyebrow at them earlier today), he tilts her head up and nudges his nose to hers. “I can’t just look at my gir–” but he cuts himself short when he realizes something.

Now, there’s no questioning that this thing between them exceeds any form of platonic friendship. The real question is what the appropriate label for them would be right now without being too presumptuous or just moving too fast.

“So, I’m your girl?” she smiles.

“I guess that really depends if you want to be because if you ask me...” he starts, stepping forward, “I’m pretty much already your–”

“Y/n!”

Both let out an annoyed sigh (Harry more so) as they hear his footsteps approaching from down the hall. She’d almost forgotten about this one little impediment with her mind having been preoccupied over the long weekend. But as Jasper moves waves to her, she’s suddenly reminded of everything she probably should have taken care of by now. She retreats so that her back is up against the cool metal surface. Harry starts to grumble a few colorful choice of words under his breath as he begrudgingly goes back to his locker.

“Hey!” he greets and looks behind her to nod at Harry. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“It was, um...” She darts her eyes towards Harry. “It was really eventful, really great” she chuckles nervously, and intrinsically slaps herself for making this more awkward than it needs to be.

“I’m happy to hear that then.” She watches as he rummages through his bag. “Here, I got this for you,” and he pulls out a plush figurine. From behind, Harry glares menacingly at it, not finding any of this to be an ounce amusing. “My family and I went into the city this weekend, and I saw this and thought you’d like it.”

“That’s so nice of you,” she says, taking the plush toy. “What-what is it exactly?” She looks up at him.

“It’s a tarsier! They’re pretty popular in the Philippines.”

“Right! I can’t believe I didn’t catch that,” Y/n muses, staring into its big piercing eyes. “You know whose favorite animal this is?” He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Cici’s, she like obsessed.”

“Cool, cool,” he replies enthusiastically, and she can tell he has more to say. “So, my mom was actually wondering what color your dress is gonna be so we can coordinate with my tie.”

She glances over her shoulder to check on Harry, whose face is practically stuffed inside the alcove. “Formal...yeah, that’s a thing...isn’t it...uh...” she trails off, the body of the tarsier in her hands suffocating as she tries to find the right words. There’s no way she can go with him now, and she hates that she has to do this to him. After all, Jasper is a genuinely nice guy, and any girl would be lucky to be his date. It’s just she’s not that girl. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually.”

“Really? What about?”

“This is really hard for me to say but I can’t–”

“Can’t decide whether to take photos at your place or hers.”

Her mouth falls open when Harry appears at her side. Their eyes meet, his filled with something she’s unable to put her finger on. She doesn’t understand this, but as he places a hand on her back, giving her the opportunity to study his expression, she can practically hear his thoughts, believe me.

Jasper looks between the two of them. “Is that true?” he asks, and it seems open for either one to answer.

She gulps before snapping back. “Yeah, you know...we need a good background and everything.”

“Oh, uh...” he checks the time on his phone, “I’ll text you about it? I’m actually a little late for a meeting with Dr. De Angelo about my essay, but I’ll definitely get back to you!”

He runs back down the way he came.

It leaves Harry and Y/n to endure a painful silence. Neither opt to move. Feet stay glued to the floor as more and more students start to occupy the halls. She can’t help but feel a little betrayed, having honestly thought that they would be going to the formal together now that they’d cleared everything up. “Harry...” it’s barely above a whisper.

His hand slides around her hip before he carefully turns her around. “I should explain.”

“Please do.”

He sighs, his forehead falling unto hers. “Follow me.” And he takes her hand and hurriedly guides them up the far-right stairwell to the second floor. She wonders where this might lead, especially when they duck into one of the less used corridors that hold the building’s teacher’s lounge and stockroom.

The last door on the left just beside an open window. He jiggles the knob before pushing against it with his shoulder. She squeezes his hand and her fingers curl around his bicep as she takes a peek at what he’s doing. Suddenly, the door creaks open to reveal an empty room. “In here,” he tells her, and pulls her in.

It’s more or less what she expects from an unused room, a moderately large open space with school posters covering all four walls, a few long tables and a couch positioned diagonally in a corner.

“I did something stupid.”

***

“I’m sorry, but you what? I swear it never ends with you two!” Cici groans, head banging against the table. “How’re you gonna spend all of Thanksgiving making out and still go to this godforsaken dance with different people? It’s anti-intuitive! Literally insane!”

“Usually I’m not one to agree with Cici, but you guys really have exhausted my last functioning brain cell,” Maxxie joins in. “And I have a Geometry test in an hour, so if I fail that’s on your consciences.”

Mrs. Comey, the librarian, emerges from behind a shelf, a stern expression coating her pointed features as she gives the four of them a warning glare.

Harry and Y/n sit opposite of their friends, her leaning into his side as he strokes along her arm. “It’s not like that was intentional,” she complains. “I was already going with Jasper and Harry had just asked...you know what? I don’t even want to say her name right now.” And she covers her face with her sleeve to hide her contempt. After a long talk –– so long, in fact, that they had missed homeroom and the entirety of first period US History –– they had come to a bittersweet agreement that they would stick to any prior commitment plans to avoid any (overly) ill-feelings with their respective dates.

“Hey,” he whines, trying to get her to look at him, “you said you weren’t mad!”

“Honestly, if you were my boyfriend and you asked the girl that had continuously tried to steal you from me to a major school function –– even before we officially got together –– I’d be pretty pissed too.”

“Thank you, Cici,” huffing, Harry shoots her daggers with his eyes, “for that wonderful assessment.”

Cici massages her temples. “Just tell me why –– out of all the girls at this school –– would you choose Zoey as a rebound? The actual devil incarnate!”

“Don’t harass him,” Y/n pleads, playing with his fingers. There’s no use dwelling on something they seemingly have no command over. “Yeah, it sucks that we won’t be going together, but at least after it we can move on from this.” At least they’d resolved the most significant issue, making this little bump in the road to be almost trivial, right?

“Y/n’s right,” Maxxie agrees, falling back in his chair. “It could be worse. He could be taking Zoey to prom.”

***

They take Harry’s bike to Ruben’s right after dismissal. He enjoys this even more now that the faint restrictiveness from the first time is delightfully gone, and instead it just feels so completely natural to have her so close, and now with an added bonus of being able to kiss her fully.

Because now that he thinks about it, not a whole lot has actually changed besides that. Sure, they’re probably thrice as affectionate now than they were a month ago, or even at the beginning of last week. It really only was a matter of time!

“Halfsies on the roast beef and swiss, and a strawberry milkshake?” It’s their usual order starting from the first time they’d eaten here all the way back in September. They order it every time without fail as though tradition.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she sings, “but can we get mozzarella sticks too? Maxxie ate like half my lunch when we told them, so I’m a lot hungrier than usual.” She snorts out loud, closing her menu and placing it on the table.

Harry looks up at their waiter. “... and add some mozzarella sticks. Thanks, man.”

Comfortably, they sit and enjoy the song playing from the jukebox. Someone with excellent taste had just chosen Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, and Harry wraps his arm around her shoulders as he hums along to the chorus. “...built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older...”

“You should sing more,” she encourages, pecking his cheek, “you have a really nice voice.”

He lets out an airy chuckle. “I guess you have to say that now.”

“Shut up, that’s not it!” she gasps, lightly smacking his chest. “I mean it.” She raises her hand to cup his cheek and uses her thumb to wipe away a fallen lash. Peering back at him, she smiles shyly. It’s almost strange, being able to do something like that so freely and without having to think twice. The way they’ve already managed to fall into this with such ease will never fail to astonish her.

Overcome with the sound of his heart’s tune, he surges forward to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “I really, really like you,” he breathes as they pull apart just as their order arrives. “And I’m so happy this is finally happening.”

“Me too,” she says, pulling him back for one more.

For a moment she’s completely distracted by a basket of decadent fried mozzarella. She takes her favorite of the bunch –– the one that has the most cheese oozing from the tips –– and takes a bite, pulling it away to test the stretch. He takes the opportunity to ask a burning question.

“So, earlier at the library,” he starts, sounding as ambiguous as possible as he picks up a fry from the side of their plate. “Do you remember what Cici said?”

Her eyes narrow on him as she tries to think. Could he be referring to before or after she’d scolded them for stressing her out more than any upcoming exam? Or maybe when she’d called them lunatics for formal? “Cici said a lot of things today, Harry.”

“Well, there was this one thing that I’ve been thinking about all day” And he dips that fry into a pool of ketchup and layers it in his mouth. He muses to himself as he savors the crispy yet fluffy texture. “And I feel like it’s kind of urgent.” He shoots her a wink.

“Don’t leave me guessing then,” she pouts, swatting his hand away when he goes for another fry.

“It’s just that she called me your boyfriend,” he smirks, sitting back and waiting for it to fully marinate between her ears.

Her lips quirk to the side as she lies back and rests her head on his shoulder, then cranes her neck to gaze up at him. “She did say that, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

***

#president!harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction au #one direction preferences #writing

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ft-stories-lgbt · 5 years

Note

Erza x Lucy - coming out to the guild confusion. ((in other words the guild is confused because they thought they liked other people and they aren't very upfront about so there is a lot of weird rumors))

Hey! I'm so sorry for taking this long to answer ! I'm not if this was what you wanted but here we go! I Hope you'll like it !

“Hey, I heard Lucy and Natsu went on a date last night.”

“I wonder when Lucy will finally tell us that she’s with Natsu...I mean have you seen how close they are? They’re basically a married couple.”

“Did you see how happy Erza is this morning? Jellal is in town, this has probably something to do with it.”

“They’d make such a cute couple if only Jellal weren’t this stubborn..as for Natsu and Lucy, you couldn’t find someone more blind than them. It’s ridiculous.”

Lucy jolts as a hand gently slides into hers and pulls her away from all the voices around her. She hadn’t realized she was standing in the middle of the guild until she finds herself sitting at a table in the corner, away from the eyes of everyone.

When the hand finally lets go, she lets her gaze fall on Natsu, who is making himself comfortable on the seat in front of her. He has a serious look on his face for once.

“This has to stop.” He says, his voice deep and low.

Lucy can feel her heart skip a beat at the words, afraid to understand what Natsu is really talking about. She doesn’t have to try and play dumb with him.

Even though she hasn’t said anything to anyone, Natsu is her best friend and probably the only person on this Earth who knows her by heart.

“This has to stop Luce. I know what’s going on, and I have to say I’m a little hurt you didn’t come to me for this.”

“Natsu...”

“I don’t know why you and Erza are keeping it a secret. And I’m not judging or anything, but you need to do something about it. Because it’s driving Gray and me crazy. All these rumors...like I literally told Mira I was going on a date with Gray yesterday and this morning she came to me asking me when I was going to ask you out. Like what the fuck?”

On any another day, Lucy would have laughed at this because Natsu and Gray were far from subtle. They were always holding hands, and when they weren’t yelling at each other, it wasn’t unusual to find them in a corner of the guild, whispering to each other with soft smiles on their lips. In conclusion, Lucy was as confused as them about the fact the guild still hadn’t understood that they were together.

“I’m sorry...” She says softly, dropping her gaze to her joined hands on her lap.

“There’s no need to be sorry Luce, I know it’s not easy but... aren’t you tired? Both of you? I mean, I know it’s hurting you to hear all of those things since you were standing like a statue in the middle of the guildhall not a minute ago, but what is stopping you from telling everyone that you and Erza are together?”

Lucy bites her lips, and she can feel her eyes sting from the sudden tears she’s trying to hold back. She doesn’t know where to start actually. There is so much to say, so many reasons she could tell him, but somehow Lucy can’t help but think that these are just excuses. She hears Natsu sighing before a hand rests on the top of her head.

“Come on, sweetie, let’s get out of here.”

Lucy is up on her feet not long after the statement. She can feel Natsu’s fingers on the small of her back, and as they make their way out of the guild she swears she heard Levy said: “Maybe they finally got together and they’re going on a date! I hope Lucy will tell me about it.”

They’re sitting by the river. Natsu is oddly quiet, but she guesses he’s doing her a favour by letting her collect her thoughts. It’s nice, and the fact that there’s only the sound of the running water around them helps to calm the storm that is brewing inside her mind right now.

She doesn’t know how long they stay quiet like this, but when she finally lets the words out, it’s like she can’t stop any more.

“I wanted to come clean with everyone in the first place, but Erza wasn’t ready. She wanted us to explore what was between us first. Which is totally understandable, since being with a woman was new to both of us, and we weren’t even sure of what all this was.” She whispers.

She can feel Natsu’s eyes on her, but he remains quiet, waiting for her to continue with what she has in mind.

“So I agreed to keep everything between us for as long as she needed. But… that was months ago, and we never talked about it again. I mean I know she heard about the rumours, I tried to bring them up once, but all she responded was “let them think what they want, as long as we know the truth that’s all that matters” and I mean she’s not wrong but…”

Lucy takes a shaky breath as she runs a hand through her hair, nervously.

“I don’t like hearing how whipped she is for Jellal. I don’t like seeing Mirajane trying to make you and I go out together. I’m tired of seeing Gray and you hurt because of it, and I’m so so tired of keeping everything inside when all I want is to hold her hand freely and kiss her on the cheek when she says something stupid.”

Tears run down her cheeks, but Lucy couldn’t care less at this moment, because even if everything still hurt, she felt relieved that she could finally let these words out. She had held them in for so long after all.

“I’m not sure I have the right words but...maybe you should confront Erza about it and then do your coming out to the guild. It’s not going to be easier for any of you, for any of us, and I can assure you that Gray is this close to exploding, so I think it’s better if it’s you who do it,” Natsu laughs a little.

She knows that he isn’t entirely serious, they would never do that to her, but she understands what he’s trying to say.

“What if Erza doesn’t want to do it?”

“Then I’ll punch her in the face.”

Lucy can’t help but snort at this, and it’s kind of weird because she’s still crying.

“As if you’ll do something like that. She’ll probably kill you on the spot.”

“But at least I’ll die for my best friend’s honour!” He answers.

And this time Lucy laughs freely, her heart feeling a little better.

“You know, if I wasn’t gay and dating Erza, I think I would have married you,” Lucy says playfully.

“And if I weren’t deeply in love with Gray and well...gay too, I would have...still been your best friend actually. You’re too much of a handful, even for the straight version of me. Sorry, honey.”

Lucy can’t stop laughing at this as she lets herself lean against Natsu.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m an angel.”

“Yeah...yes you are.”

Natsu slides an arm around her waist as he presses a kiss on the top her head, and Lucy closes her eyes, taking in the warmth of Natsu.

“I’m still scared..” she confesses.

“I know. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...since apparently the guild still hasn’t understood about Gray and me, we might as well come out at the same time. If you go down, we all go down together as a team, right?”

“Yeah... you’re right. Thank you, Natsu. For everything.”

“You’re always welcome.” He answers gently.

When Lucy closes the door of her house, she knows that Erza is here thanks to the extra pair of shoes at the entry. She doesn’t move for a moment, because even though she knew she’d see her girlfriend at some point, she’d hoped to have more time.

Sighing, she hangs her coat before making her way further in her house. Erza is sitting on the couch, facing the window. She looks like she’s been here for a while already, her red hair is up in a messy bun, and she is wearing a loose shirt that Lucy is positive belongs to her. She stands there for a moment, not knowing what to do.

“I heard you and Natsu went on a date,” Erza says suddenly.

Lucy tenses up immediately because this is the first time Erza has brought the matter up willingly.

“Someone even saw him hug you at the river,” She adds.

And Lucy sighs because all of this is getting out of hand, she realizes that Natsu is right, they need to do something about it before everything get worse.

Lucy decides to sit next to her girlfriend, her attention entirely on her, and when Erza turns her head toward her, she can’t help but feel a weight on her chest. She looks tired, her eyes are red, and her face is puffy. It seems as if she’s cried for hours and has only calmed down a few seconds ago. Lucy doesn’t hesitate as she takes one of Erza’s hand in hers.

“I hope you know that these aren’t true, I’m..”

“I know,” the scarlet girl interrupts her. “I know you’re not with him, he is with Gray, and you’re with me, but I’m tired of pretending that I don’t care about all these things people say about us being in love with someone else, or being with someone else.”

At this instant, Lucy doesn’t know what to say. She spent all afternoon with Natsu, trying to figure out a way to bring the subject up so Erza would have no other choice but to face and deal with the matter, and here she is, talking about it without Lucy’s help.

“I must admit this is thanks to Gray… who made me realize some things today. I don’t want to hide you or what is between us any longer. It’s hurting me, it’s hurting you, and it’s hurting Natsu and Gray, and I can’t take that. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that, I was so scared you weren’t ready and that you...”

And Erza’s words die on Lucy’s lips, as the blond softly presses her mouth on hers. Lucy is crying for what feels like the hundredth time today, but she finds she doesn’t care because somehow she feels so relieved to not be the only one feeling like this.

The kiss doesn’t last long, and Lucy gently pulls away.

“I’m ready to show our love to the world if you’re ready Erza. I’m tired too, and I would like to live this relationship plainly with you.”

Erza nods as she leans and rests her forehead against Lucy’s, their hands tangled together.

“We should probably thank the boys later,” Erza says.

“Yeah, probably.” Lucy laughs a little.

“We are together.”

Was the statement Erza decided to go with when she and Lucy arrived at the guild the following morning. They were met with silence, but at least all heads were turned toward them, confusion all over their faces.

“We can… see that you’re next to each other, yeah.” Mirajane breaks the silence.

“You don’t understand,” Erza tries again. “Lucy and I are together as in together. We are a couple, have been for months now.”

“Wait...but what about Jellal and Natsu? Weren’t you with them?” Levy immediately intervenes.

And this time Lucy is ready to talk, but the warm feeling of Natsu’s shoulder against hers and his voice ringing through the guildhall prevents her from doing so.

“I’m dating Gray. Have been for years now, and we literally don’t try to hide it, so you guys have no excuse. Also, Jellal has a fiancé, so I really doubt he’s in a relationship with Erza right now. Like seriously, you call me dumb, but you’re much dumber.” Natsu states.

They are met with another wave of silence, wide eyes looking at them and for a moment Lucy is afraid that somehow they’re going to be rejected, that somehow Fairy Tail won’t be their home anymore which is crazy because they are not the only one to come out to the guild.

She knows that Freed and Laxus are together and that something is going on between Cana and Mirajane, but she can’t help but feel pressured and unwanted when all of them are looking at them like this.

But then there’s a little laugh from Gajeel, who is sitting at the bar, that seems to give life to the guild again.

“What’s with those stupid faces? Let’s celebrate this!” the Dragon Slayer says.

And suddenly there are cheers, and loud voices and millions of questions going around them and Lucy finds herself releasing a breath she didn’t even remember holding until now.

I don’t remember why I was so afraid to begin with, she thinks as she watches Erza threatening Laxus after a playful comment.

This is my family, after all.

And a big thank you to @mdelpin for her help and also for guiding me on this !! I don't think I could ever thank you properly !

And also thank you to @watcher-ofthe-sky for helping me coming up with this Idea ! I don't know what I'll do without you!

@fuckyeaherlu @femslashfairies @fairytailfemslash

#fairytail #erlu #erza scarlet #lucy heartifilla #lucy x erza #erz x lucy #gratsu #gray x natsu #natsu x gray #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #fraxus #mirajane #levy mcgarden #ft gajeel

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soopersara · 5 years

Text

Day 7: Easier

Read it on FFN | AO3

@zutaraweek

When Zuko arrives at the Western Air Temple, he tries to reconcile with Katara. Which involves doing lots of chores.

The first time Zuko tried to help Katara with chores, she threw him out of the kitchen. Literally. He had to admit that it was a little impressive. He was taller and heavier than her, and yet she managed to grab him by the collar and toss him out the door like it was nothing.

“Stay away from the food,” she ordered, pointing a ladle down at his nose. “I don’t know what kind of stunt you’re trying to pull, jerkface, but I’m not falling for it.”

Zuko gaped. “What could I possibly be trying to do? I’m offering to help you with supper.”

Katara snorted and crossed her arms. “Right. And I’m secretly King Bumi’s long-lost twin.”

Zuko scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off. “I know how to cook.” He wasn't good at it by any means, but he knew how to boil rice and roast meat well enough to not make himself sick. That was enough to start with. He would learn the rest as he went.

“Funny,” she said flatly. “But no. I don’t need your help.”

“You’re trying to keep eight people fed. Wouldn’t it be easier if—”

“No!” Katara snapped. “For all I know, you’ll try to poison us all.”

He threw his hands up. “With what?”

Her eyes narrowed and Zuko felt himself flush. Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. But she and Sokka hadn’t exactly been subtle about searching through his belongings. She had to know how woefully unprepared he was for—well, everything.

“Listen,” he tried again. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not going to hurt anyone. I need to eat too. You can make me your poison tester if that makes you feel any better.”

“No thank you,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “I already told you, I don’t need your help. Because—” she fumbled for the end of the sentence until Haru came into sight down the hallway. “Because Haru already offered to help me.”

The earthbender looked up in surprise. “I did?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, but that didn’t seem to dissuade Katara. She grabbed Haru by the arm and hauled him toward the kitchen. “Yep.”

“Okay, but what am I helping with? Because I really don’t remember—”

Katara shoved him through the door and shot a look back at Zuko. “See? It’s all under control. Now stay out of the kitchen.”

When he offered to help with the dishes, Katara scoffed at him and dragged Aang off toward the kitchen. When he tried to start the cooking fire for her, she pushed him aside and yelled for Teo to try his new fire-starting invention. When Sokka sauntered into the temple with three dead rabbit-squirrels in hand, Zuko offered to help clean them, and Katara shoved the carcasses back to her brother. When Appa’s saddle needed a fresh coat of waterproofing oil, Katara didn’t give Zuko time to volunteer before enlisting The Duke for the job. It was almost becoming a system. Any time that Katara had a chore to do, Zuko volunteered his services, and Katara recruited the nearest person who wasn’t Zuko to help in his place.

Maybe it would have been easier to give up. Katara clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and as much as that bothered him, he couldn’t blame her. But Zuko didn’t like being idle, and there was always plenty of work to be done around the temple. He couldn’t help that most of it fell to Katara. He wanted to help, either way.

So Zuko kept trying. Giving up wasn’t in his nature anyway.

Katara hauled an oversized sack out onto the temple’s main terrace. “Laundry day!” she announced. “Who’s helping?”

“I can,” Zuko said. By now, it was becoming a reflex.

“Not you.” Katara looked around.

Zuko followed her gaze, but he already knew that the terrace was practically empty. Aang and Teo had taken The Duke for a glide around the valley, and Sokka and Haru had disappeared at dawn for some “bro time,” whatever that meant.

“Toph!” Katara said, voice bright with relief. “Come on, let’s go take care of this laundry.”

Toph shoved a finger up her nose, sightless eyes staring somewhere to Katara’s right. “Nice try, Sugar Queen.”

“Toph, please. You’ve hardly done anything to help since we got here.”

Toph shrugged. “So? If you want help with laundry, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Sweetness.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Blind girl, remember? I can’t see the stains you like to get your panties in a twist over.”

Katara glanced down at the sack of dirty clothes, and Zuko could see the desperation building in her eyes. “Please, Toph. I’ll do all the scrubbing. This is going to take all day if I don’t have help.”

With a yawn, Toph stretched and stood up. “No can do. I’ve gotta throw rocks at Aang and Haru as soon as they get back.” She bumped Katara’s shoulder on her way past. “I thought I heard someone volunteer for laundry duty. But hey, it’s none of my business.”

When they came to the pebbly bank of the river, Katara dropped the laundry bag and scowled at him. “I don’t trust you.”

He frowned. “I don’t see what trust has to do with laundry. What do you think I’m going to do, wash things wrong?”

Katara sputtered and scowled and made all manner of enraged noises, but in the end, it seemed that she couldn’t really argue with him. Untrustworthy cooking was one thing, but even if Zuko poked holes in all their clothes, it couldn’t cause any of them real harm. Just annoyance.

Katara didn’t yell, but she did glower. “Here,” she said, tossing a smaller bag at him. “You’re on sock duty.” That had to be progress, at least.

He gagged a little when he opened the bag. How was it possible for socks to smell that bad?

Katara smirked. “Oh, did I forget to mention? Sokka’s socks are in there too. His feet smell worse than the Foggy Swamp.” She crouched and plunged a tunic into the river.

Zuko made a face and pinched his nose with one hand while he dumped the socks out. Once they were all submerged, he finally allowed himself to take a full breath again and set to work.

Katara shot a confused look in his direction. “Wait, you’re actually going to help?”

“Yes.” He scrubbed a gray woolen sock. It would take some time to settle into a rhythm, but already he could feel himself relaxing. He hadn’t had much to do outside of training Aang since he arrived, and it felt good to work again.

For a long, quiet moment, Katara stared at him, brows lowered as though in thought. But then she huffed. “Why are you doing this? Isn’t washing clothes below your royal concern?”

Zuko shook his head. “I lived as a refugee for months. I had to wash my own clothes.”

Stooping to dig through the bag, Katara scoffed. “So that’s why your clothes were falling apart in the Earth Kingdom?”

“Yes,” Zuko answered. He’d gotten better after the first few times, but by then the damage was done, and his angry, overzealous scrubbing had worn his dingy brown outfit to rags.

There was an expression he didn’t recognize in Katara’s eyes, and for an instant, he couldn’t help but think of Ba Sing Se again. She frowned, turning her attention back to her own washing.

Things didn’t change immediately. Zuko didn’t expect them to. He kept volunteering to help, and more often than not, Katara found someone else to take his place. He still wasn’t allowed in the kitchen—Katara didn’t accuse him of trying to poison them anymore, but she was still wary about letting him near their food. It still seemed silly to him, but Zuko carefully stayed at least three paces away from the door at all times.

But when no one else offered to help, she gradually turned from outright rejection to grudging acceptance. Now that she finally had help—whether it came from Zuko or one of the others who didn’t run the other way fast enough—she was unwilling to part with it. Zuko helped her with laundry, then with brushing Appa, then with scrubbing the temple bathrooms. And after a few days, it turned into a sort of a rotation. For every chore Katara passed off to one of her friends, Zuko took over another.

“Time to wash dishes,” she declared after lunch. “Whose turn is it?”

The others all grumbled, and Zuko straightened. “I could,” he answered reflexively.

“Okay.”

Zuko hunched his shoulders, looking down. Then he actually understood what Katara had said. “Wait, what?”

The kitchen was much like every other room in the temple—walls of pale gray stone and high, lofty ceilings. Except for the ovens and the stoves and the sink, and the fact that Zuko had never set foot in this room before.

They both hesitated at the door, Katara staring back at him and Zuko still not sure whether it was okay to cross the threshold. He could see the hesitance in her stance, in her eyes.

“You didn’t mean to say yes to this, did you?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head slightly, then fixed her face into a scowl. “Well—the dishes need to be done. So—” She made a little noise of frustration. “—So don’t try anything funny, understood?”

He nodded, and she grudgingly waved him in.

Katara gave him a strange look when he set to work on the dishes. “Do you enjoy this or something?” She narrowed her eyes.

“What do you mean? Helping?”

“If that’s what you call it.”

Zuko swallowed, staring at the dishwater as he worked. “I don’t know. It’s easier than doing nothing.” He thought he saw Katara rolling her eyes, but she didn’t stop him. “I know how badly I screwed up. I can’t fix what I did, but helping—helps.” He shrugged.

She raised an eyebrow. “So, washing dishes? You got excited about washing dishes?”

“It’s better than washing Sokka’s swamp socks.”

Katara laughed, then clapped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed. “I’m not laughing,” she said, words muffled by her hand. “That—that wasn’t funny.” But her eyes crinkled at the corners, and Zuko gave her a small smile in return. This wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Author’s Note:

A little later in the day than I wanted to have this done, but here it is! The final day of my first-ever Zutara Week! (I’m about five minutes away from falling asleep right now, so… apologies if I stop making any sense whatsoever. I proofread the story, but I make no promises for these notes.)

Yay! I really didn’t expect to finish all seven prompts, but I’m so glad I did! This was a great experience, and I’ve loved all the feedback I’ve gotten so far! You’re all amazing!

Ummm… what else? For anyone who’s curious, the only prompt that I’m actually planning on expanding into a larger fic at this point is Day 2: Speak (the Blutara one). I’m not saying none of the others will ever see the light of day again, but that’s the only one where I have something resembling an idea for a larger plot. BUT, that will be released as a separate fic, not as updates to the existing one (and I have no idea when I’m going to start it, so have patience). Otherwise, I’m going to be getting back to work on A Tale of Ice and Smoke (after taking LOTS of naps… and throwing myself a planning party to figure out the next several chapters), so if you enjoyed my one-shots, maybe consider checking that out? I’m excited about it, at least.

Yeah, that’s about all I can think of at the moment. Love you all, comments are much appreciated, and this week has been an absolute blast!

#zutara #Zutara Week #Zutara Week 2019 #fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #soopersara's scribbles

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popatochisssp · 5 years

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Obviously no pressure, but if you wanted to share your ideas on house pets, there would be great interest from at least one person. But headcanons are closed and I totally respect that (this very ask aside sorry). No pressure to do anything!!! just wanted to let you know that it seems like fun info.

Sans (Undertale): Strongly inspired by a fantastic fanfiction I can’t recommend enough, he has a cat affectionately named Catsup (Norwegian Forest Cat). Of course he does. Pretty typical story here, he more or less went to a shelter, locked onto the biggest, fattest cat there, and filled out the paperwork to damn her to a life of having a pun for a name. He...may have only gone to the shelter because he was hardcore struggling with depression and his brother read somewhere that pets can help a little, but that's...that’s neither here nor there. Catsup turned out to be a perfect fit for Sans in spite of his initial attitude of, 'I'm only doing this to make Papyrus happy'-- she's probably just about as chill and lazy as the skeleton himself, content to flop over just about anywhere, anytime and hang out. Her laidback nature was a blessing for Sans, a first-time cat-owner who didn't really know what he was doing or what she needed right away. A more high-maintenance cat probably wouldn't have been as forgiving and there'd have been a lot more stress on everybody before he got it figured out. Now, he considers Catsup his best little pal and doesn't even need to be reminded to change out her bowls and her litter. He's surprisingly responsible, when he actually really cares about something.

Catsup’s Quirks: Likes it when you gently slap her belly, always gravitates towards the room with the most people in it, often appears in unusual places that it seems like she shouldn't have been able to get to

Papyrus (Undertale): He...begrudgingly missed working with the Canine Unit once the Royal Guard was officially disbanded... It took him awhile to be able to openly admit he was interested in getting a dog, and when he did, he had standards-- it had to be a smart dog, one that could learn tricks and follow rules, unlike a certain annoying creature that’s plagued his life and home and special attacks in the past!!! So he did a lot of breed research, found a local, ethical breeder for the kind he was looking for, and went to pick out a pup. Spike (Border Collie), so named for his incredible coolness, is a perfect fit for his energetic skeleton friend and loves to run, exercise, and learn new tricks all the time!

Spike’s Quirks: Learned to wipe his feet before coming inside just by watching Papyrus do it, hams up his tricks and sometimes does them without prompting, never leaves the park without an impractically large stick to bring home

Sky (Underswap Sans): You will literally never get him to admit the real reason he got a dog companion because he knows in his heart of hearts that it’s such a silly reason... He saw a video online of a dog delicately eating a watermelon and while most people would’ve had a kneejerk reaction of, “I NEED TEN,” but not gotten any, he had the same reaction and just...talked himself down to one. And so came Poff (Samoyed), a big ol’ floofer who’s a lot like her master when it comes to levels of energy and affection. She’s happy to follow him around on patrols, training sessions, and even through obstacle course...so of course, she tends to get very dirty very quickly. Luckily, Sky’s diligence in grooming her keeps her coat as white and fluffy as her namesake!

Poff’s Quirks: Loves baths, tap dances at the mention of treats, doesn't chew her toys and just hoards them instead

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He wasn’t really in the market for a dog, himself. He was just along for the ride when his bro was picking up Poff, when he happened to hear the most hilarious sing-screaming sound he’d ever heard in his life. He followed it all the way to the little fellow who would soon be known as Smoochie (French Bulldog), and he sure seemed upset about...something? He never really figured out why, he was laughing too hard from hearing a sound like that come out of something so small and weird-looking. He didn't try to adopt Smoochie that day, much as he loved his sound, but he found himself going back to the shelter a couple times just to check on and play with him. After two or three months with no one else adopting the little prima-donna, he figured he might as well commit and take him home. He's a fun little dude and Paps hasn't regretted it for a second, but he's forever in denial about just how much of a Dog Dad he's become since. It's totally normal to carry your dog around in the hood of your sweatshirt, isn't it???

Smoochie’s Quirks: Screams a lot, will eat food out of peoples’ hands if they’re not paying attention, jumps higher than it seems like he should be able to

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Like most things in his life, he didn’t put a whole lot of planning or forethought into getting a dog. He was out one night, decently drunk, and a friend of a friend of a friend of a coworker was talking about this dumb dog he had that was supposed to be a guard dog but couldn't do it worth a damn because he was too friendly. The guy was yammering about how to get rid of it and something about that struck a chord with Jasper. It was pretty soon after monsters surfaced and maybe that's why it felt...important to him? He was probably just drunk and emotional and soft that he even stepped in or said anything, but it is what it is. He’s a skilled enough conman that it didn't take him long to talk the guy around in circles until he was willing to pay Jasper for the privilege of taking this animal off his hands and in short order, he was almost bowled over by the big dog that planted its paws on his shoulders at their first meeting. Jasper immediately renamed him from something cliché and 'intimidating' to Tubbs (Rottweiler) for how heavy the goofy bastard was and then brought him right home. His brother wasn't particularly pleased and swore he would not be caring for this beast, but he never had to; Jasper kinda missed having something trusting and affectionate to take care of, and Tubbs has been daddy's little fatty ever since.

Tubbs’ Quirks: Shreds even the heaviest duty toys, lays on people as if he were a lap dog, drools rivers if somebody's eating food around him

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Who am I to defy literal years of fanon...? His first meeting with Doomfanger (Persian) was about as clichéd as it gets-- a scrawny, dingy, scraggly and matted cat scurrying out of an alley in the rain. She went right up to him and, well... it was love at first mew. He scooped her right up, bestowed a fittingly intimidating name upon her, and took her home with him, in spite of the fact that she looked more like a mutant rat than a cat at the time. After shaving the mats off, bathing the dirt away, and getting her some regular food, though, Doomy actually ends up being an exceedingly beautiful feline! He credits his attentive care and grooming for her pristine, silvery fluff and will brag about it at a moment's notice, but he's just ever so slightly in denial about her sweet and gentle nature. Doomfanger is a vicious killing machine, a true apex predator that nothing stands a chance against! That's...that’s obviously why he carries her around so much... And why he plucks her away from any other animal that comes near her like some sort of mother hen-- he's minimizing the bloodshed! If he let her loose, there would be no survivors!

Doomfanger’s Quirks: Meows in peeps, avid shadow-chaser, extremely receptive to handling

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Hey, anyone remember FGTC? This one cameo’d in that fic, she may seem familiar~ So...he wanted a pet. At first, he thought a cat would be good, fierce independent hunters that they’re reputed to be...but after spending time with a lot of cats and not really clicking with any, he was forced to concede that he was just more of a dog person. In hindsight, of course that’s what he was looking for: a loyal companion to (literally, ha!) dog his steps and follow his orders. Before he can actually, intentionally start looking for one, though, the universe works its magic and he finds one digging around in the garbage out behind the house. The emergency vet he brings the scarred and skeletal stray to tells him that, judging by her injuries, she was probably bait in some dog-fighting ring somewhere and got thrown away when she wasn’t useful anymore. Well. Fuck that, Princess (Pitbull) deserves better than that, and she’ll have it! He takes on the duty of nursing her back to health and earning her trust and it isn’t long before she shows her true colors as the loviest sweetheart of a dog that ever was. She’s utterly useless as an attack/guard dog, but her barks are loud and intimidating, and she obeys commands at the drop of a hat, so Mal doesn’t hold that against her. She goes with him just about anywhere she’s allowed and he shows her off with the same enthusiasm you’d expect for a pedigreed Best in Show dog.

Princess’ Quirks: Wags with her entire butt, will kiss the moment someone’s face is in range, barks at doorbells both real and on TV

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): He didn’t mean to get a cat, not really... He was just following along with his brother when Mal was kicking around the idea of getting one, and Mal may not have clicked with anybody there, but he sure did. Actually... Kitkat (Manx) may have picked him and he’s just along for the ride. Kitkat was kinda young at the time, a little smaller than all the rest and also...no tail??? But what a personality, loud and playful and super sweet and...when it was time to leave the shelter, he just...he couldn’t bring himself to do it without her, he was in love! It’s mutual, at least-- she latched right onto him pretty much instantly and is pretty much never not with him whenever he’s at home, following him around from room-to-room.

Kitkat’s Quirks: Bone-rattlingly loud purrs, loves to play fetch, prone to 3AM zest for life and zooming all around the house accordingly

Slate (Horrortale Sans): I actually wrote about this one! But the gist of it is...he likes cats. Eventually got confident enough to go get one and zeroed right in on the weirdest-looking, least adoptable cat in the shelter he volunteers at. Slinky (Cornish Rex) was deaf, kinda ugly, and a whole lotta weird, but hell, she’ll fit right in at home, yeah? And so she does! She wrecks a lotta shit and is loud as hell, but stuff is only stuff and Slate’s never had an issue with noise. Actually...she really helps him out with his sleep and focus issues, it’s hard to drop off or dissociate when you have a cat in your lap, yelling at you at batting your face because it’s Play Time or Dinner Time, wake the fuck up!!! She’s a bastardous gremlin, but he loves her to bits.

Slinky’s Quirks: Clumsy and bad at judging distances, loves ankle-looping, insists on sniffing all people-food but never actually tries to eat it

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Following the trauma of the underground and the ensuing massive outpouring of empathy from humanity at large, monsters were made aware of many therapeutic resources that they could take advantage of, one of which was therapy animals. Papy naturally thought this was a wonderful idea...for other monsters, who were of course far more psychologically-damaged and not quite so good at enduring as himself. But...his brother does volunteer at an animal shelter, and he goes to visit him on occasion so he's made friends with a lot of animal people. This is how he hears about a therapy dog in need of a new forever-home due to complicated circumstances with her former owner, and well... it would be rude not to offer the Lady (Borzoi) a place to stay! He’s surprised by her appearance at first, having expected something more like a golden retriever or some kind of shepherd??? But he's very quickly charmed by her and actually feels more than a little bit of kinship with her no stranger to being long and oddly proportioned, himself-- and they're both doing their best to make it look graceful instead of weird. Since Lady proves to be a sweet and gentle-mannered dog, Papy just sort of...never bothers trying to find other accommodations for her. She’s welcomed wholeheartedly into their home, which she repays with plenty of unconditional love and effortless emotional support!

Lady’s Quirks: Spins in circles when excited, very polite when begging for table scraps, never barks but howls often

#cinaminamin #headcanons #undertale #sans #papyrus #underswap #us!sans #us!papyrus #underfell #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #swapfell/fellswap #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus

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m0etenchandon · 5 years

Text

First date (Reader x Joe Mazzello smut)

Pairing: Reader x Joe Mazzello Summary: Y/N has one rule when it comes to dating: Clothes stay on at the first date. This proves difficult when she goes to Joe´s flat for a cup of tea after dinner. Warnings: SMUT (18+), fluff, language, thigh riding, blowjobs A/N: I know Joe lives in Brooklyn, but I was literally 6 when I was last there, and London is more familiar to me. Loosely based off a dream I had a few weeks ago. Sorry the start if awful. Thanks for reading! I am 100% sure that Joe is a dom, so I might make a part two with that later (I did, here) Word count: 4.1 K

Masterlist

You eyed your outfit in the mirror as you were getting ready to head out the door. It was only a first date, surely no need to be this nervous? After all you had talked to him for hours on tinder, just never face to face. Your hands flattened your high wasted skirt that ended mid-thigh, accompanied by ankle boots and a lacy body underneath it. The outfit was daring, but still nothing that would earn you disapproving looks from random strangers. You wanted to impress him, wanted him to like what he saw. He had seen your pictures, but only carefully selected ones which all your girlfriends had helped you find. You were already starting to feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him. He was literally perfect. Handsome, kind and of course funny. Everything you wanted in a boyfriend. Nothing would be worse if you weren’t the one he expected you to be. Ignoring the thoughts, you grabbed your purse and coat, and headed out the door.

The restaurant he had picked was located on the river side near Southbank. It looked fancy but still cozy. Perfect, you thought as you stepped out of your cab. You spotted him right away as he came towards you. He was smiling at you, making your heart skip a beat. He was even more handsome in real life.

“Hi Y/N, nice to finally meet you”, he beamed at you, crinkles around his beautiful eyes. His hair was perfectly styled, looking more ginger in real life than in the photos he had sent you. He was sporting a nice pair of dress pants and a well-fitting button down. You realized you were staring at him and pulled yourself out of your trance by reciprocating the smile.

“Hi, Joe! Sorry, I just... wow you look very handsome”, you said pulling him into a hug. His scent filled your nostrils, taking in his expensive perfume. God, he even smelled amazing. Joe chuckled against your head, hands rubbing your back.

“Why thank you, I tried to impress you! You look beautiful by the way”, he said as he pulled away from you a little, still keeping his arms around you. He was admiring you, you realized making your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you!”

There was a silence as Joe kept staring at you. You waved your hand in front of his eyes, making him blink and shake his head.

“Shit, sorry! I just can believe I finally get to meet the woman behind the texts”, he blushed. “I uh, want to head inside?”. He was clearly flustered, a pink hue forming on his cheeks.

You laughed at how cute he was as you nodded. He offered you his elbow, and you locked your arm with his as you walked towards the door. He was a perfect gentleman, holding the door for you as well as pulling out your chair when you reached the table.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink to get you started?”, the waiter asked as he gave you your menus.

“I´ll have a glass of white wine, thank you”, you said smiling at him.

“We´ll just take a bottle then”, Joe said before the waiter left.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mazzello?”

“Maybe.. pretty sure any woman would have to be drunk to sit through an entire date with me”, he laughed.

“Oh I´m not so sure about that. I`m quite enjoying myself”

“Yeah but you see I haven’t pulled out any of my tricks yet, they are sure to have you running for the door”

“We´ll just have to see about that I guess”, you giggled, sending him a wink. The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and poured you a glass each. Joe lifted his glass towards yours.

“To our first date then, Y/N”

“To our first date, may I not want to run out the door before the end of it”, you returned, touching your glass against his.

The conversation flowed easily. You were eager to hear about his acting, saying how cute he was in Jurassic Park and how you looked forward to see him portray John in Bohemian Rhapsody. You could tell how much he loved his job by his enthusiasm at all your questions, making you smile. Through the dinner, you could see his eyes fall to rest on your cleavage at multiple occasions, before he pulled himself together and made eye contact again. You were burning under his gaze, loving the effect you had on him.

“Do you want any dessert?”, he asked as the waiter had picked up your plates.

“Not really, I’m pretty full”

“Yeah me too”. You both didn’t want this date to end, and you could tell Joe was having an internal struggle with himself before he blurted out:

“Do you want to come back to my place? I could make us a cup of tea for dessert. Wow, this sounds like I’m just trying to get you into my bed. I would never, I mean, oh my god, of course I would you´re so beautiful, but”, he mumbled, panic in his eyes as they looked anywhere but your face.

“Joe, relax”, you cut him off and laughed at how adorable he was. You reached across the table and grabbed his hand, making him turn his gaze to yours. He gulped and let out a breath he was holding in. “That sounds like a great idea, I could do with a cup of tea”, you smiled at him.

The second you were out of the restaurant, you grabbed hold of his hand and held onto his arm with your other hand. Even though it was dark outside by this point, you could see both a smile and a blush creep its way back onto his face. You leaned onto his arm as you walked along the river. It was cold outside, but not enough for you to mind. The only thing on your mind was how close he was, how his eyes crinkled when he told a funny story, or when he laughed at a reply from you. He was beautiful, a perfect match to the fairy light draped over every lamp post. It was like a scene right out of a movie.

“Wow, the London eye looks so pretty from here”, you said as walked over Waterloo Bridge. You pulled away from him to walk closer to the edge. It was lit up in a beautiful blue color, a contrast to the warm light from the buildings beside it.

“Have you not seen it from this side yet?”, Joe asked. He shakily put his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. You could tell he was hesitant, hands feeling light against your skin. You put your own hands over his, encouraging him, wanting to feel him close to you. His head came to rest on your shoulder, his cheek warm against yours.

“No, I´ve only lived here for a few months. Work´s been busy, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to see the city, especially at night”

You turned around to face him, hands still holding you close. His eyes met yours, the soft light from the street making his eyes appear lighter than they had earlier that evening. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your face. You bit down on your bottom lip, his eyes following the movement.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you right now?”, he asked, breath hot on your face. Impossibly close, you could almost feel his lips against yours.

“Not at all”

Joe wasted no time, a smile forming on his lips before placing them on yours. They were soft, slightly damp, and fit perfectly against your own. You put a hand on his cheek as you deepened the kiss. He immediately kissed back, pulling you even closer. You stood there for quite some time, making out in the middle of London. The thought made you start to laugh against his lips. He pulled away and looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“What´s so funny?”

“Nothing, we´re just standing here, in the middle of one of the busiest bridges in London, making out like horny teenagers. This is so cliché”

“Wow, that bad huh?”

You giggled and kissed him again.

“No, it was perfect”

A couple more blocks and you reached Joes flat that he had while filming BoRhap. It was big for being in central London, but not over the top. As he gave you a little tour you noted two bedrooms, one bathroom, along with the combined kitchen and living room. It was quite stylish, a good combination of typical guy things mixed with a sleek interior. It fitted him, you thought. A proper bachelor flat.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom as he pulled out the kettle. After flushing the toilet, you looked back at yourself in the mirror. You never went back to a guy’s place after the first date. Never. That was your one rule, clothes stay on. Yet here you were. You didn’t have to do anything with him obviously, but you found yourself wanting to. The way he looked at you, blatantly staring at your boobs from time to time, had turned you on. His lingering touches, the feel of his lips against yours. Besides, you had talked to him for weeks, it wasn’t like you didn’t know him. The world wouldn’t end if you ended up in his bed by the end of the night. You blushed at the thought.

Walking back to the kitchen after having a little pep-talk to yourself, you were determined to not let him get to you. You could wait until at least the third date before getting into his pants, it’s what you always did.

Joe was sat at the couch, handing you your tea as you walked around his flat. A bass guitar was propped up against the wall.

“Can you actually play, or is it all pretend?”, you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“I can play yeah, or at least to some extent. I´m no John Deacon”, he laughed, walking over to you. One of his hands found your waist before he placed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Play me something then. Please, Joe”. You looked at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, trying to sway him. He rolled his eyes but picket the bass up. Bringing it with him, he sat down on the couch, leaving his cup on the table. You sat down next to him, eager to hear him play. He licked his fingers before starting to strum to the tune of “killer queen”. You were suddenly very aware of how hot the room was, the way his fingers expertly ran along the strings making your cheeks heat up. There was something about a man who could play guitar that turned you on immensely. His gaze fell upon your thighs, eyes travelling from your knee all the way up your thigh. You realized how short the skirt actually was when sitting down, shifting in your seat causing him to tear his eyes away. A blush crept onto his face as he stopped playing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare”

“It’s alright, I forgot how short this was”. You sipped your tea, trying not to look at the way his arm muscles tensed as he put the bass guitar on the chair next to where you were sat, his arm falling to rest on the back of the couch. You felt hot under his stare. This was all too much. The idea of waiting two more dates seemed impossible all of a sudden.

“I really like your outfit”. His other hand went to play with the hem of your skirt, dangerously close to where you found yourself desperately needing him. Positive he could feel the heat radiating from you and the way your breath hitched in your throat.

“I can tell. You have been staring at my tits all night”

“Oh”. He went red and pulled his hand away, embarrassed that you had caught him staring. He mumbled out an apology before bringing his hands to his face, hiding. You couldn’t resist him anymore and went to put down your own mug before straddling his lap. Setting aside all your principles. His eyes shot up to meet yours, taken back by your abruptness.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it”, you whispered against his lips. He sighed and closed the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. You put your hands around his neck, pulling him closer as his hands found your hips. His tongue entered your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. You started grinding your hips against his crotch, feeling him starting to harden beneath you. You were desperate for some sort of friction against your aching heat, the roughness of his trousers against your clothed clit enough to make you shiver. Your skirt had ridden up your thighs slightly, but that was the last thing on your mind. His hands were hot against your waist, electricity buzzing between you two. Things were getting heated, both of you out of breath as you pulled away. He looked at you with lust in his eyes, panting.

“Shit Joe, we can’t”, you said as he started to press kisses against your neck. You moved your head to the side, giving him better access.

“Why not?”

“I only have one rule when it comes to dating, clothes stay on at a first date”

Neither of you were making any moves to stop though, as he kept kissing your neck, biting ever so slightly. Your hands went up to his hair, running your fingers through it, forcing him to look at him. His eyes were dark and his lips puffy from kissing. You wanted him so bad, clit twitching at the thought.

“We don’t have to take our clothes of you know”, he said as he shifted you so you were straddling one of his thighs. Your skirt rode up, making your heat meet his clothed thigh. A groan left the back of your throat at the sudden sensation, mouth falling open. His hands kept a tight grip on your hips as you rutted against him.

“Fuck, that feels so go-od, Joe”, you moaned into his neck, arms coming up to grasp his shoulders. Grinding down on his thigh harder, he started sucking and softly biting your neck. His stubble rubbing against the thin skin, your fingers digging into the muscles on his upper back. Joe contracted his quad making you throw your head back in pleasure. His leg was hard against your clit and you could feel yourself soaking through your thin panties. You were positive he was bruising your hips at how hard he held you while rocking you back and forth on his thigh.

Your knee brushed against his crotch which made Joe let out a pornographic moan. He was so hard, the tight pants leaving little to the imagination. “Oh my god, fuck, do that again”, he whined. You pressed your knee against him again, dragging it down his crotch as you continued your rutting. The intense feeling and the noise leaving his mouth were too much for you to handle. You could feel your legs start to shake, signaling your high rapidly approaching. His arms fell down to grab your ass, helping you rub yourself against him.

“I-I´m going to cum, J-Joe”, you whined, picking up your pace. You were desperately rutting against him, all dignity out the window as you chased your high. His hands shot up to massage your boobs, pulling your deep-cut body out of the way. He leant down and flicked his tongue against your hardened nipple, sending shivers down your spine. You grasped onto his forearms as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach start to unravel. He started bouncing his thigh, hitting your clit with just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge. Screams left your mouth as a warmth spread all over your body, veins feeling like they were on fire. Joe continued to help you drag your clit against his trousers as you rode out your orgasm. All shyness out the door as you rutted desperately against him, legs shaking with pleasure. The coil in your stomach unraveling, clit twitching.

Coming down from your high, you looked down to see a dark patch where your heat met his thigh. Joes eyes followed yours, landing on the stain. “I´m sorry, Joe, I-I didn’t mean to ruin your pants”. He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair between your ear and placing a kiss on your jaw. “Look Y/N, you didn’t ruin them more than I did myself”. Your eyes fell on his crotch. A small, dark, stain of precum was evident just above the tip of his cock.

He was achingly hard but didn’t want to push you.

“Let me help you with your little problem”, you said as you sunk to your knees in front of him. His breath hitched in his throat as you lifted his shirt to place soft kisses onto his lower stomach.

“I thought you said clothes stay on, babe”

“Hmm, I could just leave you right here if you want”, you teased, eyes meeting his. You twirled your tongue just above the waist of his trousers, feeling his cock twitch underneath you.

“Oh god please don’t, I would actually die”, he whimpered. You started unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his newly exposed skin as you moved downwards. Your hands pulled it open before dragging your fingernails down his soft stomach. You could feel goosebumps forming on his skin as you hummed against him, finally reaching his hips. Popping the button of his trousers, you continued your kisses on his hips, pulling the zipper down. Joe lifted his lips to let you drag his trousers down along with his boxers. His cock sprung up against his stomach, angry and leaking from being neglected. A thick vein ran down under his cock, visibly throbbing. He was quite big, your mouth watering at the sight before you. One of his hands went down to stroke your cheek, urging you to touch him. “I´m gonna need you to touch me, Y/N, please. I think I might actually combust if you don´t”.

“So needy Joey”. He moaned at the nickname, making you quirk a brow. “You like that, huh? Like when I call you Joey?”, you teased, leaning down to blow hot breath onto his cock. It twitched up to meet your lips, Joe desperately nodding his head in the process. You smirked before running a finger down the vein on his shaft, making sure to put extra pressure on the string just below the head of his cock. He was trying with all his might to not thrust up against your touch, your teasing driving him insane. Humming to yourself, you leant down to lick a bold stripe from his balls all the way to the top, following the same path your finger had just made. Finally reaching the head, you licked at the salty precum leaking onto his stomach before wrapping your lips around his tip. He moaned, hands immediately tangling themselves in your hair, keeping you in place. You wrapped one of your hands around his shaft, working him at a slow pace. Your tongue swirled around his swollen head, tracing along his slit. He was leaking like a faucet, coating your mouth.

You took him deeper into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging your tongue on the underside of his cock. He was a moaning mess underneath you, fingers digging into your scalp. Your hand worked his shaft as you relaxed your jaw, taking him deeper. His hips involuntarily thrusted up, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as you kept him there, milking him. Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them in your hands.

“Oh my fucking god, your mouth feels so fucking good Y/N”. Joe was lazily thrusting up into your mouth, hands holding your hair in a make-shift ponytail. You pulled up for air, a string of spit running from his cock to your mouth, a smile plastered on your face. You jerked him for a while, adding extra pressure onto the head. He was becoming short-breathed underneath you, signaling he was close. You took him back in your mouth, sucking harder this time. You hummed around him, sending shivers all over his body. “I-I´m not going to last, Y/N”, he warned as his cock hit the back of your throat again. Humming around him, he gave one last thrust and yelled out your name. Hot, white liquid shot down your throat as you swallowed around him. You took all of him, sucking him through his orgasm before letting him slip out of your mouth. His cock was slick from your spit and his cum as it flopped down to his stomach. “Show me”, Joe commanded. You opened your mouth for him to see all of his cum gone. “Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Taking all my cum”.

You smiled as you rose from the floor, pressing your lips against his so he could taste his own cum. “I should probably get going, it´s late”, you said as your lips left his. “Or you could stay. We don’t start filming until the evening tomorrow, so I have the morning off”, he reached out to toy with the hem of your skirt again. “Only if you cook me breakfast in the morning” “I wouldn’t advise to eat my cooking, but deal”

He stood up and grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom. Joe slid the shirt of his shoulders and stepped out of his trousers. You were suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable your clothes were. “Uhm, Joe, can I borrow a t-shirt or something?” “Yeah of course”

He went over to his dresser, rummaging around until he found a grey t-shirt which he then proceeded to chuck at you. Grabbing it, you started to head for the bathroom.

“Are you actually going shy on me Y/N?”, Joe asked, clearly amused that you felt the need to change in private. Warmth spread over your cheeks. “What, do you want a show?”

“Oh yeah”, he teased, sitting against the headboard. You giggled, before walking off.

“In your dreams, Mazzello”, you called after him.

Quickly using the toilet and trying to smooth your now messed up hair, you threw some water in your face and called it a day. You pulled your skirt off before unclasping the body and pulling that off as well. Cold air hit your nipples, making you realize you didn’t wear a bra. You cursed under your breath before pulling Joe´s t-shirt over your head. It reached you just below your bum, perfect. Walking out, you crossed your arms over your chest to hide your hardened nipples. You slipped under the duvet and snuggled up to him. His arms came down to hold you close as you drifted off to sleep.

As the sun shone through the slit in his curtains, you woke to have Joe snuggled against your back, arm thrown around your waist to hold you in place. He was awake, you could tell by his light breathing and how his fingers traced circles onto your stomach. Your shirt had ridden up during the night, exposing your lacy panties to him. You were just about to turn around when you felt his hard cock pressed into your thigh, making you gasp.

“Good morning Y/N”, Joe mumbled, thrusting his hips lazily into yours.

“Good morning, Joe. Did you sleep well?”, you asked as you turned around to face him. His hair was messy, eyes barely open.

“Mmm, very. Dreamt about you”

“I can see that”

He whined as you reached down to palm him through his boxers. Joe closed his eyes, the hand on your waist tightening its grip.

“You know, since it’s a new day, this technically isn’t our first date anymore”, you teased. He hummed, not quite putting two and two together. You rolled your eyes and leant down to place a kiss to his exposed neck. “That means I don’t have to follow my rule any longer”. Suddenly realizing what you were getting at, his eyes shot open to meet yours. He had you pinned down on the bed in no time, ushering you towards your first of many orgasms that day now that he could finally have his way with you. All thoughts about the promised breakfast having slipped both your minds.

Part 2 - kind of

Masterlist

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

Fairest of Them All (Two)(Stuckony)

Birds burst into song and flowers literally bloom wherever Tony goes because even Nature loves him, plus we get to meet Prince Charming!Steve (he’s so so good in this fic, such a good Alpha!) and holla for love at first sight, because that’s why we love fairy tales, right?

SNOW WHITE AU MASTERLIST HERE

*******************

Tony rode clear through what was left of the night, racing away from the castle and his family and everything he had once thought to be true.

He checked the stars above every few minutes to make sure he was staying on track, grateful for Jarvis’s insistence on memorizing where the different stars lay in case he ever got lost. He had laughed when the old Beta had told him “One day when you leave the castle, you’ll have to know this sort of thing”, but now Tony knew every star in the night sky and which ones would lead him in the right direction towards the river and across to the mountains.

There was barely any moon so Tony couldn’t see further ahead than the horse’s ears and had no choice but to lay close to the horse’s neck to avoid any low hanging branches once the road from the castle curved sharply around and right into the forest. He had to trust the gelding to pick its way around any sharp rocks or holes and more than once the horse whinnied uncertainly, and Tony just closed his eyes tight and hoped there wasn’t any wolves or bears or any of the other horrible animals he’d heard about lurking in the shadows.

It wasn’t as if there was anyone to help if things went wrong worse than they already had.

He was completely alone out here.

Tony didn’t know if he’d made a conscious decision to stop crying at some point during the wild ride or if he was simply too numb to feel the tears freezing on his cheeks or if he was perhaps finally too dehydrated to have anything left to give, but either way Tony’s eyes were dry and dull when the first stirring of dusk broke on the horizon.

As soon as it was light enough to see relatively well, Tony eased the worn out horse to a stop and slid off the saddle and onto the ground, his legs nearly giving out from the impact.

“Easy, lovely.” he ignored the way his entire body was aching and rubbed at the velvety nose for a quick moment before offering the horse an apple slice from the bag. “You did so good, so good for me, yes you did. Thank you, you lovely beast.”

The horse nickered and pushed his head into Tony’s shoulder, huffing loudly and twitching his ears until the Omega laughed quietly and produced another apple slice. Jarvis had been thoughtful enough to wrap a weight of hay along with the other supplies and Tony limped to a patch of frosted grass and scattered half the hay around, looping the reins up and over the saddle horn so the horse could eat.

The gelding tried to head butt him in a semblance of thank you and Tony laughed again, surprising himself with the sound even as he wrapped his arms around the animal and hugged it tight. He’d always loved animals and they had always loved him, so it wasn’t so much a surprise that he was laughing at the horses antics, it was a surprise that he was laughing at all.

“Feels like a dream, lovely.” the Omega scratched behind the big ears as the horse munched away. “All of this feels like a dream, or maybe it feels more like a nightmare. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up in my bed and everything will be fine but--” he exhaled shakily. “--but that’s not what’s going to happen, is it?”

The horse didn’t answer, but it did lift its head and stare at him for a moment with what almost looked like adoration in the dark eyes so Tony dropped a quick kiss on the broad forehead and went to find himself something to eat.

He settled on an apple just so he could share more of it with the horse later, and pulled out the map and hastily scribbled directions Jarvis had tucked in his pack, spreading it out on a relatively flat rock to try to figure out where the hell he was.

Tony had followed the stars as best he could, but they had disappeared a few hours ago and since he had never even been outside the castle walls-- or at least not that he remembered-- he had no idea how to tell where he was in the forest or even how far he’d gone from home.

Obadiah had always insisted the outside world was too harsh for a Prince, that there would be people waiting to hurt him, people waiting to use him, people waiting to do all the sort of things that Obadiah had actually been doing the entire time and that was a bitter sort of irony Tony would never be able to appreciate.

But despite the bitterness over what had become of his life, despite the anger still sparking at the edge of his vision and the bone deep fatigue pulling at his consciousness, Tony couldn’t help taking the time to look around and wonder at the cold beauty of the world he’d only glimpsed from the windows of the castle.

The trees were almost all bare, even the evergreens missing their needles as their branches cracked under the force of winter and dragged near the ground. The bark looked black beneath the sparkle of frost and it reminded Tony of the outfit Ana had made him for his eighteenth birthday, all sharp lines and bold glitter and stunning in an abstract sort of way that had made people stop and stare.

Grass grew in patches here and there across the clearing, and Tony plucked a piece and chewed at the end curiously, cataloging the taste and texture and wondering how it was still green before flicking it away. There were no flowers of course, and he hadn’t expected them here away from the tended gardens of the castle, but there was still a hint of floral in the air, a scent of green and life that made the forest feel as if it were holding its breath, just waiting to burst into bloom.

Mountains in the distance, and Tony traced the outline of the peaks with his fingers before searching for a coordinating symbol on the map, tracking the distance from the mountain peaks to the river and then looking around for any identifying markers so he would know have at least a general idea of where he was in relation to the river as well.

There was nothing he could use as a landmark though, the forest stretching on and on in every direction, the trail he had been following barely a trail at all anymore. Tony traced along the route Jarvis had drawn on the map, tapping absentmindedly at a vague shape identified as a canyon that ran nearly parallel to the trail. Sometime last night, just shortly before dusk, the horse had shied away from the left side of the road for quite a while before relaxing again and moving back towards the middle and if it had been the threat of the canyon in the dark that had spooked him…

Tony measured the space between the canyon and the river and strained his eyes to see as far down the fading path as he could. If he was correct in his estimations and the horse could keep up its current speed, they should reach the river by late afternoon and hopefully be able to cross it before sun down.

Hopefully.

“Are you ready to go, beautiful?” Tony trilled to the horse as he rolled the map back up. “Or should we stay until it warms up just a little bit?”

The horse nickered in apparent agreement and Tony sighed, unfolding one of the blankets from his pack and smoothing it out at the base of a tree. “Yeah, I suppose I could sleep a little.”

Even fully dressed and wrapped in his heaviest coat, tugging the edges of his blanket up and around his legs and hugging his arms around his midsection, Tony was still cold. It was so so cold. He’d never put any real thought into the reality of a winter that lasted longer every year, of nights that lingered well past what should have been dawn and sunlight that only a few hours to shine before it was covered in clouds. Winter had only affected his life in minor ways, like how soon he had to light the lamps or whether or not enough flowers grew to decorate his table and rooms and to lay at his parents graves.

Tony had never thought about the people outside in the Winter, the ones who had to hunt for firewood to warm their homes and wear extra clothes because the chill never quite went away. Food had to be scarce since crops wouldn’t have time to grow and while water would be plentiful with the snow and ice, what happened if the rivers froze and fish was unavailable for months at a time?

He frowned and huddled tighter to the tree, tipping his face up to try and catch the weak rays peeking through the branches above.

How had he lived twenty one years and never took even a second to consider what happened in the world outside of his workshop and library?

With that sobering thought swirling round in his mind, Tony fell into a restless, uncomfortable sleep for almost two hours, only jolting awake when a bird burst into sudden song close to his tree. His mouth was dry and head groggy, a migraine pounding behind his eyes from the glare of the sun off snow and Tony groaned as he moved to stretch and every one of his muscles rebelled.

Oddly enough, the ground beneath him felt softer than it had before, warmer even and Tony blinked down in confusion when he saw the frost had melted almost entirely away in a six or seven foot circle around him, green grass a few inches tall crushing easily between his fingers.

“...What…” he was too tired to even attempt to understand what had happened while he napped, jaw cracking over a yawn and eyes falling closed for another few minutes.

He was so tired.

The horse had come to lay next to him at some point, the big body giving off enough heat that Tony had instinctively curled into its side as he slept and now only half awake, the Omega leaned over and petted the sweet thing, crooning and trilling gratefully when the horses ears twitched his way.

“Winter’s breaking at least a little bit, hm?” he asked the horse, struggling to his feet and refolding the blanket with sluggish fingers, glancing up with bleary eyes to where he heard birds singing and squinting uncertainly when he thought he saw leaf buds on previously bare branches. “Leaves? Is that leaves?”

Sure he was hallucinating from lack of sleep, Tony fed the horse another apple treat and crunched through a few half hearted bites of his own before putting everything away and readying himself to go again.

Everything hurt-- his thighs almost shaking as he resettled over the stretch of the saddle, his rear sore from the previous nights ride. He was emotionally exhausted and physically worn out and two hours of sleep wasn’t near enough but Tony knew they had to get to the river and across by nightfall or he was running the terrifying risk of being hunted down and caught, dragged back to the castle to face an uncertain fate.

Tired or not, still rubbing sleep from his eyes or not, swaying on his feet and vision blurring or not, he had to keep going.

“Come on, lovely.” He clicked his tongue and the horse started off immediately, following the path with sure, steady steps as Tony struggled to even hold onto the reins. “Alright, I’m going to trust you to keep walking, take your time and please don’t trip and--” he was too out of it to finish the sentence, slumping forward in the saddle and yawning again.

The past twenty four hours had been the worst of his entire life, starting with the Alphas that had been almost violent, then his Uncle and the witch and having to hear so many awful truths from Ana and Jarvis. Running for his life through the woods wasn’t something Tony had ever thought he’d have to do and on top of it all, grass was spontaneously growing and birds were following him through the trees to sing and it-- it was just too much.

It was too much and Tony couldn't think about it right now, couldn’t think about random grass and snow melting while he slept and he certainly couldn’t think about the line of prophecy swirling round in his head.

An Omega to end the Winter.

He couldn't think about it right now.

But if he had been thinking about it, if Tony had been together enough to take a peek back at the clearing where he’d slept, he’d see the very first sprouts of wildflowers creeping up in the grass, bright green stems and tiny leaves that would burst into color by days end.

But he was too tired-- and maybe too afraid-- to look so the wildflowers went unnoticed as the Omega trudged onward towards the river and what he hoped would be salvation.

******************

Regent King Obadiah Stane preferred to take his breakfast alone, eating his eggs and fruit and toast in the privacy of his rooms, sipping at his tea as he read a few pages from a favorite book or looked over the latest reports from the front lines of whichever battle his armies were involved in at the moment.

It wasn’t really an all out war anymore, not for nearly eight years now, not since Sunset had snatched that unfortunate soldier from the pile of nearly dead and turned him into a monster, putting him at the head of the armies and sending them across the plains in a wave of destruction.

The Soldier was unstoppable, his very soul held hostage by Sunset’s power, an Alpha stripped of everything but the ability to kill, his scent ruined by the metal and magic used to put his broken body back together.

With him as Commander, Obadiah’s armies had flattened all but the smallest pockets of resistance left in the Kingdom, amassed a force that had swept through the smaller adjoining lands and ran ruling families from their throne. The troops marched under a flag of ten rings set against a red star, a symbol of both his and Sunset’s might and only when they could advance no further did Sunset call the Soldier home to the castle, giving him the title of Huntsman and keeping him as a personal assassin.

Thanks to the Soldier, to the Huntsman, there was no such thing as all out war anymore. The reports were simply of rebel factions that refused to be squashed, of minor uprisings in villages, tallies of men killed and lists of supplies needed.

Thanks to the Soldier, the army of the Ten Rings was uncontested by anyone on this side of the great sea and so long as the rebel camps were being systematically found and destroyed, that was how it would stay.

So Obadiah’s morning was peaceful, nothing to worry about in the reports, his breakfast eaten at a leisurely pace and tea sipped unhurriedly and then--

“Stane.” Sunset blew into his room with the force of wind, the door banging open and into the wall and startling him into spilling his drink. “Where is the Omega Prince this morning?”

“You are not to be in my chambers unless summoned.” he growled irritably, mopping at the tea splattered on his favorite robe. “Leave me be.”

“Mmmm no…” Sunset tapped at her bottom lip with a distractedly long fingernail. “No, I don’t think I will. In fact, you’ve been acting far too imperious with me lately, and I think its time for a reminder that without me you wouldn’t even have that silly Regent King title. Or have you forgotten what I did for you?”

Obadiah swallowed back another growl, making an attempt to cover his fangs as he offered her a smile just bordering on insolent. “What do you want, witch?”

“I want to see the Prince.” she snapped her fingers and her Soldier moved into the room as well, slipping into the corner to stand guard, pale eyes trained on Obadiah in an unblinking gaze. “There is no such thing as a love potion, no matter what those other silly witches say, so I can’t force him to continue to love and trust you implicitly, but I can certainly help things along. I want to see him before he meets the other Alphas this morning.”

“No.” Obadiah stated and Sunset’s eyebrows flew towards her forehead, the Soldier’s lips curling in a warning snarl. “No matter how much your pet growls at me, I will not let you charm Tony. I don't want him even knowing you exist, much less being close enough for you to--”

“What. Is. This?” the witch moved faster than humanly possible, her power sparking in the air and propelling her forward so her hand could wrap at Obadiah’s jaw, nails digging in enough to make him hiss as she wrenched his head to the side. “What is this?!”

“What is it?” Obadiah tried to yank away, but she called on more of her power and held him perfectly still.

“What is it?” Sunset repeated and with far more strength than she should have had, shoved the Alpha towards the mirror above his end table, folding her arms and tapping her foot impatiently as Obadiah craned his head to see the odd patchwork of blue at the base of his neck, swirling designs spreading in no discernible shape.

“That, you stupid Alpha, is sign of a witch’s spell come to bear. The first marker is always on your neck, the second over your heart.” She was practically spitting in rage and even her Huntstman’s gaze flickered red in a split second of unease. “Tell me, Regent King. Is there any particular spell that comes to mind for you? Any one that would have particularly unfortunate consequences for the both of us should it come to pass?”

Obadiah closed his eyes and muttered a curse, covering the blue with the palm of his hand. “Yesterday upset my nephew more than I bargained for, but today I’ll put it to rights. The curse will go no further than some shaken faith and uncertainty on his part.”

“Send for him.” Sunset’s green eyes sparked angrily. “Now. I am through taking chances or relying on you to take care of things. Send for him or I’ll send my Huntsman for him, do you understand?”

Obadiah gave the witch a wide berth as he passed by, leaning into the hall and bellowing for one of the servants to fetch the Omega Prince to his chambers.

A tense ten minutes passed before the servant reappeared, stuttering and stammering, pale and terrified and Obadiah knew before the Beta even spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Regent King. The Prince does not seem to be in his rooms and none of the servants there in the hall knew where he has--”

The unfortunate servant was dead before he hit the floor, nothing more than a look from the witch telling the Huntsman to move forward and neatly snap his neck.

The Soldier was back in the shadows again while Obadiah was still gaping at the body, and Sunset’s eyes were a touch wild, her movements just a bit uncoordinated as she straightened her dress and then her hair, trying to keep herself calm.

“I’m sure he’s with Ana and Jarvis.” Obadiah managed after a moment. “He often goes to their chambers when he is upset. We will search there, and then the gazebo in the gardens close to his parents grave. He’s here, I’m sure of it.”

“Are you sure of it?” Sunset asked faintly, staring into the mirror at her neck where a design of blue was rapidly working its way to her ear. “Because if not, things are about to take a terrible turn.”

*******************

Sometime around midday the horse stumbled over a half hidden log on the forest floor and Tony-- who had been hovering on the edge of sleep for the better part of the morning-- was thrown right out of the saddle and off the horse’s back, catching himself awkwardly with his previously hurt wrist and crying out in pain.

The horse immediately put its head down to huff at Tony’s hair, pushing at him gently until the Omega struggled back to his feet, blinking away frustrated tears.

“Is your leg alright?” Tony held his arm close to his chest and knelt to run the other hand gently down the horse’s leg from knee to hoof checking for anything that felt out of place or already swollen. The animal shied away from a press near its ankle and Tony’s fingers came away tinged with red.

“Oh, it’s not bad, just a scrape, just a scrape.” Not sure if he was reassuring himself or the horse, Tony sacrificed a little of his water to clean away the bit of blood and then tied a strip of linen around it to keep any dirt out. “How’s that? Let’s keep going, hm?”

The idea of walking made the already exhausted Omega want to scream but he knew the horse needed a break from having someone on his back, and at least walking would force him to stay awake. Before the horse had stumbled, Tony had been tired to the point of nearly passing out and that just wouldn’t do, he absolutely had to keep heading towards the river.

Tony stopped long enough to give the horse some more hay and to eat his way through one of the sandwiches Ana had packed, checked the map one more time, then resolutely set off in the same direction as before.

It was slow going, but it certainly was easier to stay awake walking alongside the horse so Tony kept his steps as fast as he dared, eyes set determinedly on the path ahead. There were birds that seemed to hop along through the branches and sing louder every time he stumbled so Tony started to listen to their song and try to whistle it back. When there was a patch of grass, he paused to let the horse snack and scattered around the seeds he picked from the bread for the birds in case they were hungry too and when they came upon a family of deer in the clearing, Tony took a moment to drink from his water skin and watch quietly so he didn’t spook them, marveling at how the deer looked right at him and weren’t scared at all.

So distracted by the life in a forest that had seemed so bleak just that morning, Tony let more and more time slip away from him, his steps falling slower and slower and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky before he heard the sound of the river in the distance.

Cursing himself for dawdling, for taking the time to pet the bunnies that had come to meet him and to sing with the birds, Tony clicked his tongue at the horse and urge it along faster, pushing himself into a jog as they headed up a steep hill.

“When we get to the top of this, I’m going to ride you again.” he informed the horse and it nickered at him in agreement. “We’ve got to keep going again, I hope your leg is alright to run a bit more. I have to try and cross the river before the sun goes down or I’m afraid--”

Just a few steps from the top of the hill, a massive destrier came charging up and over the crest and Tony didn’t have time to do much more than duck his head and scream in fear, his own horse rearing up on its hind legs with a panicked bray before wheeling around and bolting away into the forest.

“Are you alright?” There was suddenly an Alpha right in Tony’s space and looming over him, and Tony automatically snarled out loud, popping his little fangs in as much a threat he could manage, clambering backwards to keep some space between himself and the stranger.

“Oh, oh I’m sorry.” The Alpha dropped back several steps, one hand raised placatingly and the other pulling both his hat and scarf away from his face so he didn't look quite so imposing. “I’m sorry, forgive me, Omega. I didn’t mean to crowd you, I just wanted to see if you were alright. I’m going to see if I can catch your horse, it bolted right off when Nomad and I came running up like that. I’ll be right back, as long as you’re alright to stay here?”

“Yes, that’s--” Tony eased his way towards the trunk of a tree and put a hand to his head to stop a sudden rush of dizziness. “That should be--um, I should be--”

“You’re not alright.” The Alpha came back slower this time, rumbling comfortingly as he tried to get a closer look at Tony. “I don’t mean you any harm Omega, I just want to make sure you’re not hurt. Did you hit your head when you fell? Are you feeling dizzy? I’m not going to leave you here if you have a head injury, would you allow me to--”

The Alpha’s nostrils flared when he got a hint of Tony’s scent, brilliant blue eyes flickering red for a split second before he turned his head away, coughing to cover the sudden growl in his words. “I--I--” he coughed again. “Omega, does your head hurt at all? I can’t risk you fainting while I’m-- while I’m--”

This time a growl did break through and Tony’s mouth went dry, his heart pounding and breath coming in choppy pants. The Alpha scented like sun warmed rosewood and crushed pine and something else thick and drugging and Tony was having a hard time remembering why his head hurt or why he was on the ground again or why he’d been upset just a moment before-- why would he ever be upset when this Alpha was so close--

“Forgive me.” the Alpha said again and Tony had to work to squash the urge to purr over the sound of the deep voice. “I-- I need a moment. Going to get some air and find your horse and then I’ll come back and we can meet properly.”

Tony mmhmm-ed something in response and leaned back into the tree, his muscles unlocking and eyes falling closed. He had very nearly died just now when the war horse had come running over the top of the hill. An Omega of his stature would have been trampled beneath the heavy hooves before the rider had even noticed he was there and Tony should have been hysterical from the shock but instead he felt light headed and dizzy, felt as if he were floating just a few inches above the ground and he so desperately wanted the Alpha to come back and talk to him again, wanted to bury his face in the Alpha’s neck and scent him properly and--

That particular thought startled Tony out of his daze and he jerking upright, looking around in bewilderment when he saw his horse tethered to a tree next to the other stallion, a fire crackling a few feet away and the Alpha sat on the other side of the flames, watching him intently.

The sun was down already, the sky completely dark and Tony’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I-- what-- how long--”

“You were sleeping.” The Alpha murmured. “I came back with your mount and you were sleeping. I hope you don’t mind, but I had to check for a head injury and when I didn’t see any blood, I let you rest. You look like you needed the rest and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh.” Tony looked around him again, wondering if he really did hurt himself and that was why he wasn’t terrified of being alone out in the forest at night with a strange Alpha. “....thank you.”

The Alpha smiled then, his fangs glinting in the firelight and Tony-- Tony had to squeeze his thighs together so he wouldn’t whine at the display.

What was wrong with him?

“I checked your horse’s leg and there’s a small cut at his ankle that would benefit from some rest.” The Alpha was saying and Tony shook his head, tuning back in to the conversation. “Seeing as how it’s too dark for either one of us to keep riding for the night, you are more than welcome to share my camp.”

“....Alright then.” Tony kept his coat gathered around his body as he moved away from the tree and closer to the fire, settling cross legged onto the ground and peering curiously at the Alpha across the way, noting the golden blonde hair and big shoulders, the way he was obviously trying to look as nonthreatening as possible though his hands looked strong enough to crush rocks. “Who are you?”

“Officially?” The Alpha smiled again, sweet and a little teasing. “I am His Royal Highness Prince Steven Grant of the Rogers Kingdom across the sea, Heir Apparent to the Throne and Duke of Leaman.”

“A prince.” Tony waited for the ripple of unease that he thought would accompany meeting another Alpha prince, but it never came and he cleared his throat to ask, “Honestly?”

“And a rather charming one, so I hear.” Prince Steven winked. “But I don’t have patience for titles and formalities, so please just call me Steve.”

“Steve.” Tony tested the name on his tongue, missing the way the Prince’s eyes flicked red again as he said it. “Steve. Doesn't seem like a very princely name.”

“I said I was charming, not princely.” Steve informed him and Tony ducked his head to hide a smile. “And you, Omega? Is there something I can call you?”

“Tony.” he whispered, almost shy. “You can call me Tony.”

“Tony.” Steve repeated, resisting the urge to growl approvingly as he watched the Omega’s cheeks tint pink. “Are you hungry, Tony?”

“Starved.” He admitted over an ill timed gurgle from his stomach. “I’ve been riding most of the day and didn’t stop to eat much. Probably not my best plan but it’s hard to eat when I’m thinking about--”

Tony shut his mouth with an audible click, not quite sure why he’d been ready to spill his secrets to an Alpha he didn’t even know, and quietly grateful when the Prince didn’t comment o his near slip.

“Here.” Steve ignored the awkward silence after Tony had stopped talking so suddenly, and filled a napkin with whatever he’d had on his own plate. He got to his feet slowly so he wouldn’t alarm the Omega and risk being snarled at again-- though Tony’s little fangs were about the sweetest Steve had ever seen-- and offered up the food. “Try this, if you’d like. And if you want some wine, I have that too.”

“If I’m not imposing.” Tony kept his coat tucked firmly around him so Steve wouldn’t see the silk shirt and dirty but still obviously well made trousers. The last thing he needed was the Alpha asking questions about where he was from or where he was going, especially when Tony was still feeling light headed from his fall and more than a little compromised by the lingering Alpha scent. He kept his hurt wrist covered as well, not wanting to give Steve a reason to come too close again and not wanting to explain the finger shaped bruises.

He still couldn’t shake the feeling of safe though, or understand why the urgency to escape faded a little more every time he glanced up and caught the Alpha’s blue gaze, but by the time Tony had finished his food he was feeling as close to relaxed as he’d been in days, stretching languidly and putting the napkin aside.

“How are you feeling?” Steve had told himself over and over not to stare as the Omega ate, but he couldn’t help himself. Tony was simply stunning, the fire making his skin look soft and reflecting gold in the dark eyes. Every time Tony took a bite, Steve had caught sight of a pink tongue against red lips and the hint of delicate fangs and every time the Omega had swallowed he’d had to watch his throat move and hear a soft noise of satisfaction….

“That was very good.” Tony said and Steve dragged his eyes from the tempting peek of collarbone beneath the heavy coat. “I appreciate you sharing with me.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t very good.” He smiled at how polite Tony was, well spoken and gentle with his words. “But you are sweet to say so, Omega. Very sweet.”

Tony flushed prettily and Steve snatched up his wine skin, taking large gulps to keep himself from growling again. The Omega was obviously over tired and most likely scared and the last thing he needed was an Alpha panting after him simply because Steve had scented warm vanilla and spicy cloves and sweetest honey and was half out of his damn mind with want.

“I think the birds are half in love with you.” Steve changed the subject before he did something embarrassing, motioning to the trees where three or four birds were chirping merrily through a tune even though the sun was down. “They started singing almost the moment you woke up and haven’t stopped yet. I haven’t heard a single bird singing since my ship came to the borders a few weeks ago, did you know?”

“I’ve heard them a lot recently too.” Tony tipped his head back and grinned up at the birds who seemed to sing suddenly louder, their song even merrier. “I love them. Beautiful.”

“Beautiful.” Steve repeated, helpless against staring at the curls tumbling around Tony’s ears, nearly speechless at how lovely the Omega was when he was smiling like that. “Christ, Tony, you are beautiful.”

Tony’s eyes went very wide, his mouth falling open in surprise and Steve jumped to his feet. “I-- I think I need some more air. Sorry my Omega-- Tony. Sorry, Tony I just-- I’m going to check on the horses.” he motioned to the animals that were clearly fine, standing no more than ten feet away. “And then I need to-- I need to--”

He was almost gasping for breath at this point, chest tight and palms clammy as the Omega ran his tongue over the tiny point of his fangs in a clearly nervous gesture.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’ve just never--” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe and only speaking when he could do it without wanting to rumble something claiming towards the pretty brunette. “You are safe with me, Omega. Please don’t think you aren’t. I just need a minute and perhaps a short walk and then I’ll come back.”

“I know I’m safe with you.” Tony blurted without stopping to think because he knew in his heart he was safe with the Alpha, just like he’d known he was safe with Ana and Jarvis. Safe. “I know I’m safe you, Alpha.”

Alpha.

“You’re safe with me.” Steve said again, softer this time and Tony dug his fingers into the dirt at his side as he nodded. “I swear. I’m never going to let anything happen to you.” Truth, not even hesitating before making the promise. “Not anything, Omega. Not ever.”

“I know I’m safe with you.” Tony shivered when the Alpha’s eyes shaded possessive, a whole body shudder racking his frame when Steve took first one, then another step away. “You don’t have to go. I’m fine. It’s-- I--”

“Just for a minute.” Steve whispered, even though he was clearly fighting his biology to even say the words. “I’m afraid I’m going to frighten you and I don’t want to do that. I’m going to take a walk until I calm down and then we can talk some more and--”

Tony whined, high pitched and anxious at the thought of the Prince leaving and Steve felt the sound like a knife to his soul, twisting through his heart as every cell in his body screamed to get closer to the Omega.

“You’re cold.” Steve said then, which didn’t make any sense at all. Tony wasn’t cold, he was flushed and his eyes dilated and plucking at his coat as if he wanted to tear it off but Steve knew if he saw even a hint of the Omega’s skin he would lose the battle against whatever was clawing at his mind and his heart and telling him to take and claim and mineminemine, so instead he said, “You’re cold.” and picked up an extra blanket. “Cover up.”

Steve didn’t trust himself to move enough to even hand it to Tony, so instead he tossed it over the fire and into Tony’s lap, turning on his heel and marching towards the horses immediately because he had to leave now now now or he didn’t know what he would--

Tony caught the blanket and pressed it to his face, inhaling deep and--

Oh.

Oh it was heat and sunshine, the scent of trees on a summer day, blue like clear skies and red like the rosewood that made up his bookshelves, light blooming in gardens and pure white perfection and Tony’s mind went peacefully blank, nothing but the image of his Alpha in his mind, his Alpha and he wanted-- he wanted-- he needed--

Tony didn’t realize he was moaning, didn’t realize he was rubbing his cheek into the soft blanket and purring, and he didn’t realize the Alpha had gone stock still at the first needy sound, had whirled around and fallen to the ground when Tony had started to purr.

“Sweetheart.” Tony’s eyes flew open when the Alpha spoke, widening when he saw the Prince on his knees in the dirt, one hand outstretched pleadingly. “Tony, can I-- can I scent you?”

Tony nodded wordlessly, his breath catching when Steve reached for his wrist and held it carefully so carefully in his huge hand and whispered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Steve lingered for a moment, brushing his lips over the soft skin at the bottom of Tony’s thumb, dropping a gentle kiss in the middle of his palm, nuzzling over the pulse point at Tony’s wrist before dragging in a deep, open mouthed breath to get as much of Tony’s scent as he could.

Then the Alpha made a ravenous sort of noise, low and greedy and hoarse and oh Tony needed to hear it again so he tugged at his wrist until Steve let go, hushing the anxious rumble with a reassuring whine of his own and tipping his head back, offering his throat to the Alpha.

Steve muttered something that might have been are you sure and Tony only nodded, catching his tongue at the edge of his fangs just to make the Alpha look, the motion more instinct than anything else. “I’m sure.”

“You too.” Steve asked begged, slipping his hand into Tony’s hair and guiding him closer, holding him steady so the Omega could scent him as well. “Please, please Tony tell me you feel it too--”

Steve already knew, he’d known for hours before and the way Tony gasped and wriggled closer, the way he offered up more of himself for the Alpha to scent was only confirmation, and Steve damn near came undone right there when little fangs dug into the base of his neck as the Omega purred something content and hungry.

Tony was shaking, mind blanking and body overwhelmed, fatigue and soreness disappearing, the worry over the witch and his trek to the rebel camp falling away as the Alpha gathered him up into strong arms and lay him out on the discarded blanket.

And then finally, finally, Tony whispered what had been swirling round in his head for hours since he’d caught the first hint of Alpha scent, a single word that would explain everything even if he still didn’t quite understand how it all worked.

“....Mate?”

The Alpha’s eyes opened so dark red they were nearly black, a rumble that was almost a roar working through his chest.

“Mate.”

****************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER! ****************

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#ncts fics #snow white au #stuckony #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #winter soldier bucky barnes #sunset bain #obadiah stane #fairy tale au #abo dynamics #omega tony #alpha steve #alpha bucky

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yeonchi · 3 years

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Kisekae Insights #14: Dealing with changing Doctors

The main incarnation of the Doctor in my project is the Fifth Doctor, who is largely based on the BBC Eleventh and Twelfth Doctors. After Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi announced that they were resigning from the series, I decided that it would be time to begin planning the endgame to my project. This also meant that I would not be adapting the BBC Thirteenth Doctor.

Since my project relied on the BBC episodes, I had to find ways to transition the Doctor into a different character without regenerating him. Take a look at how I got around the regeneration storylines for my project.

For context, the picture at the top is meant to show the Fifth Doctor’s appearance in the Moushouden Series, which is essentially Matt Smith’s face on Peter Capaldi’s costume. I remember someone posted something like this on Facebook years ago. Saving it never occurred to me and by the time I wanted to find it, it was either lost or deleted, so that’s why I decided to recreate it myself. I may not be an artist, but I know a thing or two about putting transparent PNGs on other backgrounds.

Eleventh to Twelfth

The Next Gen Series largely takes place between The Day of the Doctor and The Time of the Doctor, but without Clara. Clara was dropped off at home just after Hiroki and Akari’s wedding and she would not return until Series 10.

So how did I deal with The Time of the Doctor? The Siege of Trenzalore happened concurrently to the events of the Series 9 finale, which was a lot shorter than the 900 years as shown in the original episode. Like in the original episode, the Daleks ended up being the only aliens fighting against the Doctor and the Silence; the downscaling of the timeline makes the other aliens look like absolute jokes. Hiroki would have interactions with the Doctor in between his involvement in the Battle of Sekigahara and the Ōsaka Campaign.

At the same time that Hiroki and his comrades are attacking Honnōji and Nijō Castle, the Daleks are unleashing an all-out attack on Trenzalore. A Dalek confronts the Doctor at the top of the clock tower and accidentally taps into his hatred for the Daleks after scanning him, leading the Dalek to begin exterminating some Daleks before being exterminated himself. Handles dies when a Dalek shoots him.

The Daleks only retreated from Trenzalore after Hiroki enters an Osterhagen Station some distance away from Honnōji. The Time Lords also close up the crack in the wall as well. The Doctor heads back to Earth as it is destroyed and restored by God in a literal deus ex machina. He goes back to Earth to find Hiroki and the story continues from there.

That was the first part of the transition which I did in 2014. The second part of the transition took place in 2017 with the first episode of Series 10, The Advent of the Doctor, which was partially inspired by Deep Breath. Clara rejoined the Doctor when she answered an ad in a newspaper (that was placed by Missy). When Hiroki and Akari were firing cannons at each other, the Doctor threw his coat in the way, causing it to be destroyed. His new costume debuts at the end of the episode.

The regeneration scene in the TARDIS did not go to waste as I used it in an alternate telling of Hiroki’s regeneration into his final incarnation. In the original version, I used the War Doctor’s regeneration to show Momoka’s regeneration into Hiroki, but in the alternate version, the regeneration reset Momoka into her previous incarnation before he went back home to say goodbye to Akari.

Twelfth to Thirteenth

This was a bit more complicated to plan out, but the execution is less complicated because unlike the last section, it doesn’t involve a lot of things happening at the same time. I also aimed to answer a question that was raised with The Name of the Doctor – if the history of the Siege of Trenzalore was changed, how could the Clara echoes have existed?

The background to this stems from the fact that the Fifth Doctor’s incarnation is the final one. With the Doctor being born from Hiroki, a pocket of regeneration energy remained in the latter, which he would use to regenerate into his various incarnations and prototypes (using up portions of that pocket in the process). When the First Doctor was forced to exile, he was forced to regenerate even though his subsequent incarnation was still considered the same as his previous one. Additionally, as stated in #2, timeline splits caused Doctor Whooves, the Pony Doctor and Jee Gun to be spawned from the Fourth Doctor’s regeneration into the Fifth. They were given a pocket of regeneration energy each, which would allow them to regenerate once (the Pony Doctor gave his to Doctor Whooves, so he could regenerate twice). As a result, the Doctor was only able to regenerate six times (including the War Doctor’s regeneration), though he had enough regeneration energy to spare, which he used to heal River Song’s hand and give strength to Antoni (who would attempt to steal it to give to the Daleks).

In order to set up the transition, we need to go back to the Series 11 (BBC Series 9) finale, Hell Bent. In that episode, the Doctor had Rassilon and the High Council banished from Gallifrey. They ended up on Earth in 2003 just in time to bear witness to the start of the Last Great Time War on Earth. While three members of the High Council stayed in Hong Kong to observe the Time War, Rassilon and the remaining members inserted themselves into higher positions at UNIT Central Control in Geneva. They ensured that the authorities would turn a blind eye to the chaos going on as a result of the Time War (because children fighting in wars is an issue in other countries but not in my project).

We then move to the third Space Squad movie, which takes place following the end of Gokaiger. In 2018, Rassilon became obsessed with getting his revenge on the Doctor for banishing him from Gallifrey and allied with Fūmakūdō, the villain group of the Space Squad movies (Fūmakūdō is the project’s counterpart of Genmaku and the name is derived from the villain groups of the three Space Sherriff series, namely Makuu, Madou and Fuuma). He goes to UNIT HQ and tells them that they are decommissioning the Superhero Project. At the same time, he has the Doctor’s TARDIS taken from the UNIT hangar (as he was on the GokaiGalleon for the duration of the series) before he brings it into the Makū Dimension.

Rassilon then uses the TARDIS’ Eye of Harmony to power up the Axis Converter, causing the console to explode and expose the heart of the TARDIS as the Makū Dimension expands throughout time and space, opening up portals everywhere. Later, Rassilon confronts the Doctor in Trenzalore. Before the Doctor can morph, however, Rassilon uses his gauntlet to freeze him in place before fast-forwarding time around him. The alien fleets attack Trenzalore and the TARDIS becomes the tombstone the Doctor saw when he first arrived on Trenzalore. Rassilon lets go of time and disappears.

The Doctor goes into his TARDIS and discovers that its history has been damaged along with the console. He decides to merge himself with the exposed heart of the TARDIS, causing the centre column to become a direct link into his timestream. At the same time, he also discovers that the TARDIS’ timestream has been split in two between himself and Hiroki, allowing Hiroki’s version of The Name of the Doctor to happen alongside the original version.

Being inside the heart of the TARDIS for too long is no better than looking into the Time Vortex. The Doctor plans to use his regenerative energy to repair the TARDIS and the timelines, but he is forced to stop when the events of the episode happen. The Great Intelligence damages the Doctor’s timeline, but Clara undoes the damage. When the past Doctor goes in to save Clara, the present Doctor uses his strength to maintain the stability of his timeline. The Doctor’s timeline has been fixed, but there is still a little damage that the Clara echoes forgot to fix, specifically around the start of his current incarnation’s life.

It is then that Ritsu Tainaka learns of her alternate self’s status in 1968 New York as an echo of herself. By the time everyone meets at the damaged TARDIS on Trenzalore, the Doctor’s past self has already left. She goes into the Doctor’s timestream and sends an echo of herself to patch the last of the damage. With his timeline repaired, the Doctor repairs the TARDIS and brings Ritsu out of the heart as they join with their comrades to defeat Rassilon for good.

Following the Monk invasion (which Australia managed to fend off for six months), UNIT summons the Doctor as they need the TARDIS to process the physical checkups of all Rangers and Riders. They discover that the Doctor is in his final incarnation and that he had built up a resistance to severe injury through fighting as GokaiRed. He passed on his powers to Kai following Rassilon’s defeat, meaning that he has now lost that resistance over the seventy years he spent guarding the Vault.

The events of the Series 12 (BBC Series 10) finale happened and the Doctor regenerated, but his appearance didn’t change. Upon crashing into the Barrier Base’s core (without damaging the Base itself), he is met by Hiroki, Akari and Brigadier Cheng Xieyun. The Doctor is taken to the sickbay, but when three generals from UNIT Central Control (namely the three members of the High Council) take over, they have the Doctor teleported to Geneva.

During a fight with the High Council, who were working with Madame Kovarian of the Silence, the Doctor is shocked by a group of Silents before being finished off by Kovarian. The Doctor is killed, but he comes back to life, now knowing what happened to him and why he didn’t change his appearance when he regenerated. When the Doctor merged himself with the TARDIS to repair it, it knew the Doctor had no regenerations left and so, gave him energy from the Time Vortex to repair both itself and the Doctor, but the full potential of his abilities wouldn’t be awakened until his regeneration, of which an extra one was gifted to him by the TARDIS.

As a result, the Doctor and his TARDIS are now one with each other. The Doctor is immortal as long as the TARDIS isn’t destroyed, although the same can’t really be said for the opposite because it would be too overkill. The chameleon circuit has been repaired so that the TARDIS can change its internal or external appearance at will. At the same time, the Doctor has also become a part of the chameleon circuit, meaning that he can also change appearance at will. However, the Doctor can decide to keep his and the TARDIS’ current appearances for the sake of familiarity.

Following this bout of exposition, the High Council are defeated and Madame Kovarian was taken to the Papal Mainframe, where she was tried for her crimes before Mother Superious Tasha Lem. The Doctor rejoins the Gokaigers and alternates between the TARDIS and GokaiGalleon. Technically, this new incarnation is known as the Infinity Doctor, but for all intents and purposes, he will continue to be known as the Fifth Doctor.

This has been my way of getting around the Doctor’s regeneration storylines for the sake of my project along with an alternate interpretation of what happened to the Doctor after Twice Upon a Time. Timeless Child, eat your heart out. I’d take this over that confusing storyline about the Doctor’s ascension and descension from absolute godhood.

#kisekae insights #doctor who #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor

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