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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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M’Baku’s Love Chapter 7

Hey lovelies! I originally wanted to get this done by Valentines day so y’all could get a double update. Close enough, right?

Anyways, check out my masterlist HERE to catch up and check out my other stories.

Word count: ~5500

CW: smut, drug use

Monae’s heart started beating out of her chest the moment he turned and left her at her apartment door. She hadn’t been on a date with someone new in seven years and had just started to panic when she remembered that she and M’Baku had already gone on what most people would consider dates. The only exception was that now they were both free to express their feelings for eachother.

Her buzzer rang out as she finished the sharp point of her eyeliner, and suddenly all of her nerves vanished. It's just M’Baku, she told herself, chill out. Just the thought of him made her giddy and she ran to the living room to buzz him up. She bit her lip in anticipation and waited for the knock on her door.

It didn’t come when she thought it would, so she looked out the peephole and saw him fidgeting with his hands, pacing back and forth before he turned to knock on the door. She couldn’t get over how handsome he looked, but she wanted to play it cool. She waited a few seconds before opening the door so he wouldn’t think she was standing there waiting for him the whole time...even though she definitely was. His eyes trailed up and down her physique and she was thankful her brown skin hid her blushing. Her outfit was doing exactly what she had intended.

“Hi”

“Hi, yourself,” her eyes raked up and down his body, too.

They stared at each other for a moment before she moved aside so he could come in. The moment the door closed he pulled her in for a kiss.

“You look amazing,” he held her hand and twirled her around so he could get the full view.

“And you look like a whole snack. You sure you don’t want to just stay in?”

He laughed and snaked his arms around her waist, “I’m sure.” He kissed her forehead and let her go right as Juju came over to say hello to her new favorite person.

“Can I get you anything? Water, juice, whiskey?”

“Water would be great, thank you.”

“So about this art festival, have you ever been to one?” she asked as she poured him a glass of cold water and handed it to him.

“Of course, we have them at home all the time,” he sat on the couch with Juju and let her curl up in his lap. “We Jabari are very talented people.”

Monae loved how prideful he could be when it came to his tribe, but it was always accompanied by a bittersweet feeling deep inside her. As much as she loved that about him, it always hurt to think about him returning home to rule over his people.

“Well, I’m almost done getting ready, so just give me like five more minutes.”

“No rush, I will just be here with my new best friend, Juju,” he said, partially to Monae and partially to the cat.

Monae playfully rolled her eyes and shuffled back to her room to put the finishing touches on her makeup. She put her shoes on while she let the liquid lipstick dry on her lips, and grabbed her purse before heading back to her living room to find M’Baku on the floor trying to get Juju to play with a cat toy. She snuck a quick picture on her phone before she made her presence known.

“Having fun?”

“I was trying to, but someone will not cooperate,” he looked up before turning back to the cat, “I thought we were friends.”

Monae couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, bringing a smile to his face as well. He dropped the cat toy and hopped up, pulling her in by her waist and kissing her cheek so as not to mess up her lipstick.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go!”

M’Baku went to wash his hands as Monae searched for her keys.

“Where the- oh, duh, there they are. Ok now I’m actually ready,” she said excitedly before turning to her fur baby, “Be good, Juju.”

The cat meowed and the two humans were out the door.

When they arrived at the festival, Monae’s eyes lit up at all the sights and sounds and he couldn't help but stare at her face as it brightened.

“So where to first?” he asked, looking around at all the vendors and stages set up around the park.

Monae looked up and saw someone pass by eating elote that looked like it tasted like heaven.

“Excuse me, where’d you get that?” she stopped a lady walking by.

M’Baku simply stared at Monae’s beauty as the stranger directed them to the food truck.

“Thank you!” she said excitedly before pulling M’Baku over in the direction of the food court section of the park.

“You’re hungry already?”

“The food is like half the fun of these things, come on!”

Monae found the elote truck and gladly waited in the quickly-moving line. M’Baku’s arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his head on top of hers as they slowly swayed to the music coming from the stage on the other side of the food trucks. She loved when he did that, he made her feel safe and secure.

When they finally made it to the front of the line she ordered two elotes, one for both of them. The vendor handed them to her and she took a bite of hers, doing her usual little food dance as she handed M’Baku his.

“Ohhh my god, this is so good. Try it.”

M’Baku bit into it and his eyes widened, “Hanuman, that is good.”

“Told you! Ok now that we’ve taken in some of the culinary arts, lets see what else there is. Visual art, vendors, or performance art/music?”

“Let us start with visual art, then performance, then vendors.”

“Deal,” she rose to her tiptoes and pecked his lips. He smiled and held out his arm for her as they walked towards the visual art section of the festival. They both enjoyed the small art galleries, but yet again M’Baku mostly found himself staring at her as her eyes examined the pieces. Whenever she had the opportunity she would always stop and talk to the artists, some she knew some she didn’t. She even suggested a couple apply for positions at the center.

“Stop working and just enjoy the festival,” he whispered in her ear after she handed a sculptor her business card.

“I’m not-” she was cut off by him giving her the look with one of his bushy eyebrows raised, “Ok fine. It’s hard to turn it off sometimes.” She shrugged and he grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“Ready to see some of the performances?”

“Of course.”

“Without scouting for talent.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Fine.”

M’Baku chuckled at her attitude, he’d have something for that later.

They arrived at one of the stages just in time to catch the beginnings of an interpretive dance to “Whitey’s on the Moon.”

M’Baku hung onto Gil Scott-Heron’s words as the dancer moved across the stage in a hauntingly beautiful display of his raw talent. When he finished to a standing ovation and left the stage, making room for the next performer, M'Baku and Monae decided to stay there for a while until their stomachs rumbled again, reminding them that all they’d had to eat that day was breakfast and elote.

“Damn, I heard that all the way over here,” she joked as they got up to go find more food. This time M’Baku found a vegan food truck and they fell in love with their seitan Philly cheese steaks before heading back into the festival. The sounds of a popular local spoken word artist reciting a poem about gentrification filled their ears as they made their way over to the vendors.

M’Baku and Monae walked through the crowded marketplace hand in hand, stopping periodically to take a look at what the artists had to offer. He noticed Monae had stopped at the booth of an old man with salt and pepper locs down his back to check out a delicate handmade amethyst necklace. He smiled when he saw how her eyes lit up when she looked at it, but she put the necklace back and walked towards M’Baku, grabbing his hand so they could head to the next booth. He stopped her and pulled her back into him.

“You changed your mind about the necklace?”

“It’s a little out of my budget right now, I just gave Jazz her tuition money for the fall.”

“But you want it?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Then it is yours, love,” he turned to the artist. “Excuse me, could we purchase this necklace along with the matching bracelet and earrings.”

“M’Baku!”

He leaned down and tilted her chin up to peck her on the lips, “Hush, you are getting the set.”

Monae blushed and tried to fight the smile creeping up her face. While she wanted to protest, she had never had a man spoil her before and she found that she liked the feeling. Sure Derrick had money, but he was Ebenezer Scrooge when it came to spending it, so this...this was new.

“Did you want to wear them out or should I wrap it up?” the older man asked Monae.

“Um, I’ll wear it out.”

M’Baku reached for the necklace and she turned around so he could place it on her. The cool metal of the gold chain shocked her skin as his hands dusted over her collarbone and carefully clasped the necklace together. He bent down and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder before turning her around to get a good look at the necklace that contrasted so beautifully against her brown skin.

She had goosebumps all over as she slid on the bracelet and popped her earrings off. She put her new earrings in and modeled them for M’Baku.

“Lookin good, miss!” said the jewelry-maker.

“Thanks!” she responded excitedly and M’Baku chuckled at how adorable she could be sometimes. “And thank you.” she turned around and planted a kiss on his lips

“No problem, love. You forget I am rich,” he winked at her and she stood there shocked for a moment before he led her to the next tent. He bought her a handwoven basket, and at the next tent he bought her the most beautiful painting she had ever seen. She was really enjoying the sugar baby treatment and he loved spoiling her. The whole day he barely bought anything for himself, instead just spending money on his lady.

-------

When they couldn’t carry any more they decided it was time to go back to her place for the next part of their date. Monae had convinced him to smoke with her tonight and watch Friday, and she couldn’t wait to see how he would be while high. Would he be talkative? Would he have a panic attack? Would he get the munchies? She would soon find out.

When they got to her place they set her loot down in the living room and she immediately jumped on him.

“Thank you for everything,” she said between open-mouth kisses. He grunted in response and pushed her back into the wall, hands gripping under her thighs as her legs wrapped tight around him. His lips traveled to her neck and he bit down.

“Please just fuck me already, M’Baku,” she moaned out.

That was all he needed to hear and he walked them down the hall to her bedroom with his face still partially buried in her neck.

When he made it to her room he laid her down on the bed and crawled on top of her.

“I had to watch you walking around in these shorts all day, getting jealous when they would get stuck between your thighs...watching your ass jiggle. You did that on purpose.” His hand traveled down and unzipped her vintage high-waisted denim shorts, sneaking it’s way into her underwear and teasing the soft patch of hair above her pussy. His fingers travelled even lower and she let out a moan as he circled her clit.

“I did.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because I wanted you to w-want me. I wanted you to watch my hips move so you could see what they can do to you.”

“Oh I’ve seen what they can do,” he thought back to when he played drums for her as she danced. Her hips were mesmerizing and even then he imagined how they would feel grinding on him with his dick buried deep inside her.

His fingers found their way even lower to her dripping pussy and lightly trailed up and down her lips.

“Show me again.” He commanded as he pulled her up off the bed and undressed her slowly, planting kisses on every new visible patch of skin. When he got to her thong, he grabbed it with his teeth and pulled it down and off her legs. He dove into her pussy like he was starving for her and his fingers found their way inside her. His tongue lapped at her pussy and twirled around her clit before he sucked it into his mouth, tongue still swirling around her pearl as he sucked and she moaned louder and louder. His fingers sped up inside her and he rolled his neck from side to side, moaning into her pussy. The movements of his head and the deep vibration of his voice made her legs tremble. The repeated “Mhmm” coming from between her legs sent her over the edge and her body convulsed before letting out a deluge of her juices onto his eager tongue.

M’Baku licked her sensitive pussy clean, teasing her with his thumb lightly circling her clit.

“M’Baku, baby, please.” her voice was soft as she begged for his dick to stretch her wide open.

“I like how you sound when you beg. Do it again,” he said with a devilish smirk on his face.

She sat up on her knees and crawled to him, making sure to keep the deep arch in her back as she moved. When she reached him she sat back on her heels and looked at him with her best puppy dog eyes.

“Please, M’Baku. I need you inside me.”

His already hard dick got increasingly uncomfortable behind his zipper, so he reached down and freed the monster, laughing as he stepped out of his pants at the stunned look on Monae’s face.

“I knew it was big, but...damn, that’s a lot,” she said with her eyes wide and barely blinking.

He moved closer to the bed and stuck his tongue out as he leaned down. She did the same and their tongues met in a wet and nasty kiss right as she reached out to feel his velvety smooth dick. She traced the vein along the bottom of his shaft and he moaned, rutting into her hand.

“Please,” she begged against his lips. Before she could register what was happening M’Baku had her on her back and his head was rubbing against her entrance as he kissed her deeply.

He pushed in slightly and she let out a sharp moan so he pulled back out.

“Relax, babygirl.” he cooed, “This is going to take some time but you have to work with me, ok?”

She nodded and bit her lip, “Ok. It’s just...a lot.”

“I know, but you can take it,” he kissed her deeply again, pushing in a little deeper, then pulling back out. He repeated this over and over until he bottomed out and she was a moaning mess. He stayed still inside her, just reveling in how she fit around him and allowing her to feel every inch of him as he stretched her out. Her hips started grinding up into his and he took that as her sign to start moving.

He pulled his hips back and rolled them forward, pulling a deep moan out of her and making her nails dig deeper into his back. He slow-stroked her until she had tears in her eyes and was begging to cum, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her out of her mind when she came, and she wasn’t quite to that point yet. He grabbed her legs and flipped her over on her stomach without pulling out and pulled her hips up towards him. She threw her ass back on him and he met every thrust with a deep stroke of his own, slapping her ass and adding to the clapping sounds they made with their bodies. His balls hung at the perfect height to stimulate her clit at that angle and as his thick uncut dick slipped and slid deep inside her, her eyes rolled back in her head at the overstimulation.

“Mmmm’Bakuu!”

“You like that?”

“Y-yes!”

“Mmm, I know you do.” his hand wrapped around her neck and pulled her face around to kiss him as he plowed even harder into her.

“Oh my god! M’Baku, Mmm’Baku, ooh baby right there. Yesssss, yes, yes, yes.” she cried out as he slowed down and stirred his dick inside her, whining his hips as he held her down by the back of her neck. Just as she had gotten used to his flow he slowly sped his thrusts back up and the bed slammed against the wall. Monae worried about her neighbors for a moment but the thought left her mind as soon as his fingers found their way to her clit.

“I need you to cum for me so I can cum on this pretty ass of yours.”

Monae loved the thought of him cumming all over her ass and allowed the rising tension to take over her body.

“Mmm, I feel you tightening around me. Cum for me, babygirl.”

Her body convulsed again as her orgasm washed over her, leading him into his. He pulled out just in time and his warm seed covered her round ass cheeks.

She pushed her legs back and laid flat on her stomach before breaking out into a fit of giggles. He soon joined her and the two of them revelled in their afterglow giddiness.

“Let me get you a towel, where do you keep them?”

“Hallway closet,” she said dreamily.

He found the linens and grabbed a washcloth before lumbering back into the room, dick swinging and ready for more.

“Ready for round 2?” he shouted as he ran warm water on the rag and made his way back into the room. He wiped her down as she scoffed.

“You’re gonna have to let me recuperate a little, that was...intense.”

His brows furrowed.

“Intense, as in…?”

“In a good way! Intense as in I’ve never had sex feel like that before. I’ve never cried from it feeling so good.”

“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he smirked, the cocky side of him satisfied in knowing he was the best she’s had.

“I bet,” she chuckled, head still laying on her arms.

“I tell you what, how about we watch Friday and you get me high?”

“Honestly, that’s one of the sexiest things you’ve said all night.”

They laughed as he helped Monae up off the bed. He leaned in to kiss her lightly and she pulled him in for more.

“I thought you were too tired for round 2,” he said against her lips between kisses.

“I am.”

“Then stop kissing me like that,” he chuckled as he placed a soft kiss in the crook of her neck.

“Fine,” she said with an eyeroll and he slapped her on the ass. “Ow!”

“Watch the attitude,” he warned.

She felt a chill go down her spine at the deepening of his voice, but she felt the need to listen to what he had to say.

“Yes sir.”

“Mmm, I like that,” he bit his lips and kissed her one more time before tearing himself away from her to keep himself from getting all worked up again. His dick was still hard and he didn’t want to make it worse. He grabbed his underwear and slid it back on while Monae wrapped herself in her short satin robe and walked in front of him on the way to the living room, ass bouncing and thick thighs peeking out underneath. He sent a quick prayer up to Hanuman for self-control.

“First, we should order food because I don’t know about you, but I just worked up an appetite and I already know I’ll have the munchies after we smoke this.” She pulled a pre-rolled joint and a lighter from the hand-carved wooden box on her coffee table.

“What do you have a taste for?”

Her eyes traveled down his body to his half hard dick and her pussy jumped at the thought of slobbering all up and down his shaft, “Don’t ask me that right now.”

“You are making this very difficult, I hope you know that.”

“Payback’s a bitch,” she shrugged. “How about cauliflower hot wings and vegan nachos?”

“Perfect.”

They made their way to the couch and sat down while Monae ordered the food from a local shop. “Damn, they don’t do delivery. Next idea?”

“It’s right by my building, how about I run home and grab some comfortable clothes just in case I end up staying the night? I can pick it up on the way back,” M’Baku offered.

“You know you’re staying the night,” Monae said matter of factly, making her favorite gap-toothed smile appear across his face.

“Oh I know,” he winked and stood up to go put his clothes on.

-------

When M’Baku returned she had their plates and napkins all set up, and the movie was pulled up on pause, ready to go. For some reason she had placed huge glasses of water on the table as well.

“Ok, so here’s the plan: we’re gonna smoke a little of this joint, then watch the movie, then start smoking the rest halfway through. Cool?”

“Cool, where do you want the food?”

She gestured to the cleared off coffee table and they settled into the couch. Monae lit the joint and took a hit, showing him how it’s done. She took another before passing it to him.

M’Baku put it to his lips and inhaled, prompting his lungs to spasm and throw him into a coughing fit.

“And that’s what the water is for,” she handed his glass to him and he took a few sips.

“That was very unpleasant,” the chief complained as he continued to cough lightly.

“Because you’re not used to it yet. It gets easier to control your lungs, but even I still cough sometimes.”

“So how long have you been smoking?” M’Baku asked, his eyes reddening as he passed the joint back to her.

“I started pretty late, junior year of college. I don’t like feeling out of control of my own body, so I was scared to try it.” she took a hit and blew the smoke out her nose. “Eventually I made some friends who smoked and I got a few contact highs hanging with them, so I figured I might as well try the real thing and voila, now I’m a smoker. All the propaganda really worked on me.”

“Yes, I have read about that. It is one of many things that confuses me about this country,” he said, taking the joint back and trying a second time. This time went smoother, but he still coughed a little.

“There you go, getting better already. How do you feel?”

He looked at her with low bloodshot eyes and she fought to contain a smile, losing terribly.

“What is it?”

“You look high as shit!” She busted out laughing and he followed suit, both laughing until tears fell down their faces. When they calmed down Monae took a couple more hits off the still-burning joint and passed it back to M’Baku.

“Ok, last one then we start the movie.”

He took one last hit and sat back into the couch, leaning into the corner with his plate of “wings”. Monae pressed play and grabbed some nachos and a couple wings of her own before getting comfortable right next to him.

She turned to him and recited the opening monologue with a smile on her face, “I know you don’t smoke weed. I know this, but I’m gonna get you high today,” she pointed at M’Baku, “ ‘Cause it’s Friday, you ain't got no job, and you ain’t got shit to do.” He snickered as she delivered her performance.

Throughout the movie, M’Baku’s roaring laughter shook the small apartment and for a while there she was seriously concerned about her neighbors filing a complaint.

Around the time that Craig finally got high, she lit the joint and they went back to smoking. After they finished it, M’Baku was floating on cloud nine for the rest of the movie.

When Deebo got knocked the fuck out, Monae looked over at M’Baku’s grey sweatpants and saw the bulge of his dick. She licked her lips, wondering what it tasted like and by the time the credits rolled she was already on her knees pulling his dick from his pants.

“You sure about this, babygirl? You don’t have to,” he slurred.

“I know,” she said as she stuck out her tongue, swiping it along the underside of his dick.”But I want to.” She planted open mouth kisses up and down his shaft and he moaned at the feeling of her lips and tongue on him. She spit on his dick and used it to lubricate his shaft, twisting her hands up and down like a pepper grinder. She pulled back his foreskin and let her spit drip onto the tip of his dick, then stuck her tongue out to twirl around his meaty head. His toes curled as she just sucked on the tip, making it nice and sloppy for him before pushing it deeper into her mouth. Her tongue worked the underside of his shaft as his toes dug into the rug.

His hand made its way to the back of her head and he rolled his hips forward, letting out a deep moan. She increased her suction and the pitch of his moans increased right along with her. She pushed him deeper and let him slide down her throat, closing around it and sucking his dick like her life depended on it. She wasn’t able to take down the whole thing, but she used her hands and a copious amount of spit to handle the rest.

“Hanuman, that feels good,” he groaned out, his head rolling back on the couch. “Mmm Monae, just like that.”

She pulled off of him with a pop and stared into his eyes, “You like the way I suck your dick, baby?” She held eye contact as she took him back in her mouth as deep as she could take him.

“Mmmhm,” he moaned out enthusiastically, unable to form words while her mouth traveled up and down his thick shaft. He clenched and unclenched his fists and his breaths grew ragged. “I-I’m going to cum.”

Monae already knew, she could feel the vein under his dick going crazy. As soon as he finished his declaration, he erupted down her throat and she continued sucking until he gave her every last drop. He had to beg her to stop and she giggled at knowing that she had power over him, too.

The rest of the night was spent talking and giggling at nonsense, with some serious conversation sprinkled throughout. At one point the inevitable conversation about their future was brought up as they laid cuddled up in her bed. They both thought it would be better to rip off the bandaid and talk about it sooner rather than later.

“I know we have an expiration date, but I try not to think about it,” she whispered while tracing her fingers around his broad chest.

“I think about it more than I care to admit.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, the other night I couldn’t sleep so I laid in bed thinking of ways to make it work for us… Would you ever consider moving?”

“To Wakanda? That’s a lot to ask at the beginning of a relationship, M’Baku.”

“I know, but I’d regret it if I never asked,” he kissed her crown and pulled her in closer to him. They sat in silence for a while, both already thinking of their unavoidable goodbye. M’Baku sighed, “I was not planning on falling in love while I was here. I wanted to remain unattached, but you came running in and ruined my plans.”

Monae laughed and he smiled down at her.

“Well then, you’re welcome for running into you that day. Your plans were probably boring anyway.”

“You have certainly made my time here more colorful,” he looked at her maroon colored fade, changing the subject to something lighter. “What color is next?”

“I might just go platinum blonde. I’m actually seeing Keke, the girl that does my hair, next Saturday, so we’ll see if I change my mind by then.”

“Whatever color you get will look beautiful on you.”

“”Thank you, sugardaddy,” she kissed his cheek and he looked down at her in confusion.

“Sugardaddy?”

“Yeah its a term for a guy who buys you nice things and takes care of you. Sometimes they want something in return for the sugar, but some of them just love spending money. You seem like that type.”

“I just enjoy seeing a smile on your face, what type of sugardaddy is that?” he leaned in for a kiss and she obliged.

“That’s the best type, daddy,” she giggled out as he started to tickle her sides.

“Say that again.”

“Ok, ok, stop.” she tried to catch her breath from laughing so hard. “I said ‘that's the best type, daddy’.”

“Mm, now say that last part by itself.”

A smile crept up Monae’s face as she gave him what he wanted. She looked him dead in the eye and put on her sexiest voice.

“Daddy.”

“Mmm.”

“You like when I call you daddy?” She climbed on top of him and pulled his dick out from his sweatpants for the second time that night before carefully sliding down onto him. She stared into his eyes as she took every inch inside her.

“Mmm, yes. Ride me, babygirl.” he slapped both her asscheeks and she let out a scream of pleasure and pain.

“You like how I bounce on it, daddy?” She repeatedly dropped her ass onto his lap and brought it back up again, and he was mesmerized by the way her breasts jiggled in his face. He was able to latch onto one of her nipples and tease her pierced bud as she switched up her rhythm to move her hips back and forth. She held his head to her chest as he ravaged her nipples and she moaned loudly as his dick massaged every spot inside her she could find. Her hips cycloned round and round, making his dick stir her insides like a pot of macaroni.

“Mmmmhmm,” he could barely speak with the way she was putting it on him. Never in his life had he had someone ride him and take him completely in, but Monae fit like a glove.Her hips rose and fell and he could feel her orgasm approaching. Just as it did, she reached down and choked him, eyes rolling back as she released all over him. When she choked him his body reacted involuntarily and he released inside of her. She kept riding as he filled her up and she leaned back to watch his dick throb as it pumped his seed into her.

“Fuck that feels good,” she whispered.

“You like when I fill your pussy up?”

She bit her lip and grinded her clit into him, wanting more, ”Yesss.”

Monae rode him for a few more rounds before she collapsed on the bed, a mixture of their cum spilling from her pussy. He wiped her up with a warm rag again and decided to run a bath for her aching body. He didn’t see her standing in the doorway to the bathroom as she watched him pour in the bath salts and test the temperature of the water. She loved how rough he could be, but it’s the sweet things like this that really made her melt. When he turned around and they locked eyes she blushed as though she had just been caught.

“I hope this helps,” he smirked, “You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

“I’m already sore now. I don’t want to even think about tomorrow.”

He chuckled and held out his hand to her. She took it and he helped her into the warm water before washing her body with her loofa. She enjoyed his pampering and when she got out he wrapped her in the fluffiest towel he could find before carrying her back to the bed and lotioning her body.

“How do you feel?”

“Relaxed,” she responded, barely awake. He chuckled and kissed her forehead, tucking her in before she drifted off to sleep to dream of her Jabari chief.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem , @theblulife, @devnicolee

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #m'baku #black!oc #m’baku’s love #m’baku x oc #monae #jada kingdom

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timeisacephalopod · 6 years

Note

Post Averages pre everything else, Tony's having a bad day, 1st the team is crashing at his tower, the media is adding to the rumor mill and to top it off is Arc Reactor if shorting out in the middle of dinner and peppers not around to help him change it out really he just wants to bang his head against the table, knocked himself out and end this god-forsaken day but when the team goes into panic mode over him he can't help but laugh...What is his life, this is apparently.

I’ve got you lol. I threw in a little Tony/Rhodey in regards to the rumor mill part of this prompt mostly because I dislike pepperony (no hate to people who like them!), so there’s that. The team doesn’t really freak out so much as notice that Tony is a frazzeled boi, but there’s team bonding and whatnot! Movie Night cures all :)

Tony remembers all those horror stories people used to tell back when he was in college about terrible roommates and he thinks he really lucked out rooming with Rhodey given his situation now. Some of the Avengers, they’re clean, but Clint? The man is a fucking shit storm of mess and Thor isn’t much better. Natasha and Steve are, thankfully, very much sticklers for cleanliness and they mitigate the damage quite a lot but he still had to give his cleaning staff a good raise because he felt bad for them. Cleaning up after him is enough work, cleaning up after Clint should earn them a six figure annual income.

He pulls fuck knows what out of the sink of the shared Avengers floor, staring at it for a moment before he recognizes coffee grounds at least. “Who stuck coffee grounds in the sink? What, am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” he asks. No one seems to hear his comment and he rolls his eyes. He throws out the… whatever that was with the coffee grounds on it and decides hiding in his lab is a necessary thing for the day.

They’ve got a dinner event later, but for now he can hide with his machines and they don’t leave mess all over that require him to give workers raises and they also don’t leave coffee grounds and other mysteries in the sink. Time off is necessary so he makes his way down to the lab, smiling when Dummy rolls up, claw spinning happily. He’s three steps into the room when JARVIS speaks.

“Sir, there are rumors of you and Miss. Potts dating again,” he says and Tony rolls his eyes. Poor Pep, she deserves better than this.

“That’s not really new,” he points out.

“There’s a picture,” JARVIS tells him. “Doctored, obviously.”

Yeah, obviously, but Tony lets out a long sigh and throws himself in his desk chair. “Call Rhodey,” he tells the AI. Rhodey is off doing… something, Tony has a hard time keeping up given that Rhodey is constantly on the fly, literally, with the suit. He doesn’t think he’d believe any stupid tabloids anyways but its always good to check in.

When Rhodey answers the phone he’s laughing. “How the hell did you convince Pepper Potts to kiss your sorry ass?” he asks and Tony relaxes a little, pleased that Rhodey has maintained his sense of humor.

“I didn’t, obviously,” he tells Rhodey.

Rhodey lets out a small hum. “Well okay baby, but this looks pretty convincing. Does Pepper know yet?” he asks.

“She’s currently in Japan so probably not, no. She isn’t going to be happy,” he says. She’s forever annoyed that people can’t seem to accept that sometimes women can be good friends with men and have no desire to sleep with them. She claims that she’s spent too much time cleaning Tony’s messes to find wanting to become one of his messes appealing. Tony knows that doesn’t really matter if someone is interested thanks to Rhodey not that people really know about their relationship. Its been an on again off again thing for years, since they were kids really, but after Afghanistan something changed.

And really, the media deciding Rhodey was just a good friend after risking his entire career to spend three months tracking Tony down? That’s probably one of the biggest romantic gestures Tony has ever seen and somehow people managed to ‘no homo’ it. Pepper finds that annoying too but mostly only because people have made her the love interest. At first Tony thought it was kind of funny because he used to have a bit of a crush on Pepper. Now both he and Pepper find it annoying but Rhodey still keeps a sense of humor about it. Maybe its because of all that time spent in the military or something- Tony knows he’s had to deal with a lot of shit and he tends to use humor to do it. Not as much as Tony, but his endless optimism is one of his finer qualities.

“Well,” Rhodey says, “guess she will also be unhappy to hear about your summer wedding.”

Tony sits straight up and lets out an irritated noise. “People are fucking seriously saying we’re engaged? Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks. So much for his day getting better.

“Aw, don’t be like that baby. We can get married in the summer if you want to,” Rhodey jokes.

Neither of them would want to sweat their asses off in a suit in the damn summer so absolutely not.

After dealing with the social media mess on both his and Pepper’s end Tony figures maybe, maybe the food will cheer him up. Yeah, maybe Steve is being more annoying than usual and yeah, maybe Clint chews with his mouth open and it makes Tony want to crawl back into that worm hole his nerves are being grated so hard, but food is food. Its comfort and it tastes good, can’t go wrong there.

That lasts all of five god damn minutes when he feels that familiar loss of energy around his heart and fucking great. He’s got three hours before the reactor dies out completely and half that time would be spent getting back to the lab. And Pepper isn’t around to help him change it out either so… well fuck, he doesn’t know.

He excuses himself to the bathroom so he can try and figure something out or, hell, he has no idea. He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

He’s there for five seconds when he turns around and jumps when he finds Natasha there. “Did you not notice the lack of a dress on the door’s stick figure?” he asks.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “I know where the women’s bathroom is, and I also happen to know you’re probably not likely to hang out in there so here I am. What’s going on?” she asks.

Like she cares. He bites back the snappy response though because its not really helpful right now. “The reactor is dying, I need to swap it out in the lab except I’m pretty far away obviously and I don’t have small enough hands to replace it anyways so I guess I’ll die,” he says. It’s over dramatic and ridiculous but he’s tired, okay. Its been a shitty day.

“I have small hands,” Natasha says, holding up hands that might actually be smaller than Pepper’s.

“No offense but I don’t want you near my heart. You might rip it out,” he says. There’s no real malice in his voice and sure, after the stunt she pulled he’s not overly trusting, but its Natasha’s general personality that drew him to that conclusion rather than their past.

“Please, Stark, I have bigger fish to fry. Lets go, you don’t have a whole lot of time to get that thing replaced,” she says.

He considers saying no but beggars can’t be choosers.

Natasha is subjecting him to some Russian shit when the rest of the team gets home. Clint looks a little sheepish, Steve has got that ‘aw shucks’ look on his face, and Bruce looks a little constipated. Basically, as far as Tony can gather, they look like they feel bad but he has no idea why. He decides to ignore them in favor of watching his heart for any signs that Natasha somehow tampered with the reactor for funsies.

“I’m not guaranteeing that stuff won’t end up in the sink,” Clint says, shuffling a little awkwardly. It takes a moment for Tony to realize he’s talking to him.

“Clint, what the fuck is this?” Steve asks, holding up what looks like an honest to god squirrel. Frankly the fact that Steve has resorted to swearing speaks volumes.

Clint examines the strange sink object and then shrugs. “Dunno.”

Steve throws the mystery object back in the sink. “No wonder Tony is pissed off at you,” he mumbles.

Tony frowns at this and Natasha lets out a soft laugh, “Stark, you’re not subtle. clearly something has been pissing you off all day and it wasn’t hard to look through the camera footage.”

When the hell had she done that? He’ll ask JARVIS later and make it harder for her to get into his systems. “I’m not pissed off at anyone,” he mumbles. Its mostly true, he’s just frustrated because he’s had a bad day. If they were mostly the ones to cause it, well. Okay so today it was mostly Clint but still.

“Are so,” Steve says, “you’ve been avoiding us all day.”

He has not. Which he tells them but even Bruce looks confused. “This morning you gave us all a bunch of dirty looks and then went and hid in your lab to call Pepper,” he says.

Tony squints, “why would I call Pepper?” he asks. Actually he has to call her to find out how her meetings went but she’s better at remembering these things than him so for all he knows she’ll call him before he gets around to contacting her.

Steve frowns, “well, you’re you know… together,” he says, turning a little red as he says it.

He opens his mouth to tell them all that no, he and Pepper are not together but Natasha speaks instead. “You two are horrible at reading romantic cues. He’s with Rhodes, not Pepper,” she says.

Tony narrows his eyes at her, wondering when the hell she figured that out because he damn well knows he hides it well. For Rhodey’s sake mostly- the military might be a lot less homophobic now but its hard to forget what that oppressive environment is like and also Tony doesn’t want to ruin Rhodey’s career over something so stupid.

‘What?” Bruce asks, frowning. “When did that happen?”

“Why are you looking at me, Bruce? I don’t know,” Natasha says.

Tony opens his mouth, shuts it, and then sighs. “Please stop leaving questionable objects in the sink, Steve clean the fucking work out equipment- you might be attractive sweaty but the damn equipment isn’t. Natasha, stop using all the coffee and not replacing it and Bruce, stop putting the milk back in the fridge empty. I have had people do literally everything for me my entire life, if I don’t have any of these bad habits you can all be broken of them,” he says. He doesn’t mention the fifteen years Rhodey’s mom spent breaking him of the same habits minus the work out equipment.

“I maintain no guarantees with the sink,” Clint says.

Steve gives him a look, “there will be no more road kill in the sink. Its unsanitary,” he says like that should be the primary concern.

Bruce and Steve are fighting over the empty milk carton when the elevator makes that irritating dinging noise that Tony, for some reason, thought it was a good idea. He turns and finds Rhodey standing there grinning at him. “Hey,” Tony says, walking over and, mostly out of habit, dragging him away from prying eyes.

“You know the easiest way to solve the Pepper Problem is to just… tell people we’re together,” Rhodey tells him and Tony stops.

“What?” he asks. “Wait, when did you get to America?” As far as he knew Rhodey was overseas.

Rhodey snorts, “for a genius you’re always slow to pick up on things. I flew here, obviously. Suit’s faster than a plane,” he says.

Yeah, Tony knows. Neither of them have ever been fond of planes and travel time so he’d purposefully made the suits fast. Also he likes going fast. “I… you… what’s with the change in heart?” he asks and Rhodey frowns.

“What change in heart?” he asks.

Tony frowns, “you’ve never wanted to come out with our relationship,” he says and Rhodey gives him a funny look.

“Baby, I’ve always wanted to be out with it. I thought you didn’t.”

Tony rubs his temples because his day has been long and not good and apparently now its ending with a fucking twenty year long miscommunication. “And the military problem?” he asks.

Rhodey snorts, “we’re actual ass superheroes and if they want access to that suit, and they do, they need me. No idiot will fire me for being bisexual no matter how much I know a few will want to.”

Okay, good point. “Well, that’s the reason I thought you wanted to keep things quiet. You’ve worked hard, seems like a shame to ruin it all over a stupid relationship,” he says.

He knows he’s said something wrong when a few beats of silence go by. He sighs, guessing this is his day taking another turn for the worst. “Tony,” Rhodey says softly. “I don’t think this relationship is some kind of stupid fling and I know you don’t. I love you Tony, have for most of my life,” he murmurs.

Tony smiles and presses his face into Rhodey’s chest. Usually he resents being so short, but at times like this its kind of nice to be the small one. Rhodey wraps his arms around him and they remain like that for a moment. “You know what sounds a lot better than ‘we’re dating’? ‘This is my fiancee, stop acting like I’m dating my assistant’,” he says and Rhodey snorts.

“Is this a proposal, Stark?” he asks and Tony nods, pulling a ring out of his pocket and Rhodey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“How long have you have that on you?” he asks.

He grins a little and looks away. “Sine ‘98,” he admits. Thankfully Rhodey thinks its funny and takes the ring.

“No horror movies, I do not like those,” Steve tells Natasha, looking somewhat like a frightened golden retriever.

“I’m with Cap,” Rhodey says fast. Natasha looks at him and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“Not for me,” he says. Steve looks shocked that they’ve agreed on something but he doesn’t know about that time he and Rhodey thought dropping acid and watching Nightmare on Elm Street was a good plan. They might both be geniuses but they aren’t fucking smart, that’s for sure.

“All of you minus Tony a little bit have been in wars but you’re afraid of horror movies?” Clint asks, shaking his head.

“Wars don’t involve demonic possession, Clint,” Rhodey says, shaking his head.

“Well, some of those Nazi experiments… Horror movies are creepy,” Steve settles on, changing the subject before things got overly awkward. “We should watch Matilda! Sam says its good,” he says.

Rhodey wrinkles his nose, “no. We should watch James Bond, any Bond will do,” he says.

“We should watch The Sound of Music,” Clint says and Bruce gives him a look.

“No, we should watch Gravity. Sandra Bullock was good in that,” he says.

“We’re watching Sharknado,” Natasha says and Clint lets out a noise of excitement as the rest of them wrinkle their noses.

“Natasha, I forbid that,” Steve says, apparently throwing out a desperate bid for leadership over movie choices.

“Eat my ass,” Natasha tells him. “JARVIS, play the movie.”

Rhodey sighs, “I should have stayed in Egypt for the layover,” he mumbles.

#domestic avengers #tony & avengers #tony x rhodey #fanfiction

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miss-emrys · 6 years

Text

The Sea Is Calling

Read on AO3

“Back again? Second time this morning, Sid.”

Sidney blushes and Geno wishes he could see past the wetsuit zipped up tight on Sidney’s neck, to follow that enticing flush further down.

“It never hurts to be cautious,” Sidney replies after a moment. He bites his lip before adding, “She’s a bit restless today.” Then he’s already walking back in the direction he came from like he knows Geno will follow.

Geno does.

Even though he’s been working at the Coastal Marine Rescue Center for almost ten months, Geno’s still one of the newest veterinary hires. He also can count on both hands the number of personal details he knows about the elusive Sidney Crosby, despite having grown quite close to the rest of their tight-knit staff. That personal information is hard-won. Sidney resides in a league of his own, keeping to himself for the most part; he seems to prefer it that way. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem altogether bothered when Geno’s curiosity gets the better of him and he shamelessly peppers Sidney with questions from time to time. It’s a delicate game of give and take, learning tidbits of information about him. Geno makes sure to offer up details of his own life so it’s less of an interrogation and more like an actual conversation. He always feels a special kind of accomplishment when he learns something new about Sidney.

They don’t speak much as they walk through the facility, comfortable in each other’s presence, and Geno has to force himself to focus on something other than the view of Sidney right in front of him. That damn wetsuit is the bane of his existence; it never gets any easier to see him walk around in skin-tight neoprene without any idea of the effect it has on the rest of them. Geno might even think Sidney is entirely oblivious to the world around him if it weren’t for the glances Geno catches aimed his way every so often when Sidney thinks he’s not looking.

As they enter the large enclosure, Geno’s eyes shift from the broad line of Sidney’s shoulders to their patient in the water. Weighing only a couple of tons, the humpback whale calf that had been rescued less than a week before is still severely malnourished. Geno estimates she’s about four or five months old, which means she should weigh significantly more than she does and likely still be nursing for awhile yet. He can still remember how disturbing it felt when the emergency call came through, when they found her beached and alone on the shore with a dangerously low body mass, so far from any of the local pods. They had truly arrived in the nick of time; it’s a wonder she’s still alive considering her condition.

Geno and Sidney crouch down at the edge of the expansive tank in unison, watching as she rises up to the surface in the slow, gentle way they’ve become familiar with over the past few days. She’s moving a bit more steadily today than she has been, attempting to break the surface of the water more and more as is her nature.

“You know humpbacks playful, Sid,” Geno remarks after watching her swim around for a couple minutes, breaking the surface a few more times. “Lacerta just try breaching little bit.”

Geno knows better than to name a wild animal, especially one whose stay is only temporary. But that didn’t stop him from referring to the young calf as Lacerta the first time he examined her in the water, due to the distinct constellation-like pattern on the underside of her fluke. Sidney has yet to comment on it, but based on the tiny smile that quirks up on his lips each time Geno says her name, he figures he’s not being judged for doing so.

“You think?” Sidney asks. Lacerta resurfaces again further away, blowing out a spray of condensation and slapping the water with her tail. “She’s been so lethargic since she arrived. It’s strange for her to be attempting a breach.”

Geno doesn’t mention that it isn’t strange behavior for a humpback though. Sidney knows that, just as Geno knows Sidney has a tendency to fret over the marine life that makes its way into their care. It’s part of what makes him so amazing at his job. He never misses a thing when it comes to the animals they work with, often putting in extra hours without pay to see that they’re taken care of. It can be a thankless job to rehabilitate animals when the ultimate goal is to successfully see them return to the wild. But Geno has seen firsthand the positive impact Sidney’s precision and attentiveness has on the wildlife they work with, so he doesn’t mind indulging in Sidney’s idiosyncrasies.

“Think maybe we increase feedings,” Geno says instead, changing the subject. “She not reject meals yet, is moving around more. Could use extra calories.”

Sidney nods, dropping his hand to run the tips of his fingers through the water. “The additional fat would do her good. I spoke with Shaw last night and he said her nutrient levels are starting to rise a little.”

“See?” Geno smiles and nudges Sidney’s shoulder with his own. “Nutritionist happy. Vet also happy,” Geno replies, pointing to himself. “Not need to worry. Lacerta grow big and strong, do pretty lobtails for Sid.”

Sidney turns his face away, but not before Geno catches the grin spreading across his face. Geno slaps his thighs lightly and stands once more, ignoring the catch in his breath at the sight of Sidney’s smile. He stretches out the ache in his right knee as Sidney stands up, too, turning to face him.

“You get milk for Lacerta, find me later after more feedings. I’m check on sea turtles now before Letang bore them to death.”

Sidney snorts helplessly, covering his mouth with his hand to stem the unexpected giggles. “He can’t bore them, Geno. They don’t even understand what he’s saying.”

“Nobody understand what he say. French always so messy,” Geno jokes, rolling his eyes.

Lacerta swims closer just then, spraying the two of them with her blowhole and prompting a sigh from Geno when his dress shirt and right side of his trousers cling wetly to his skin. It’s not the first time this has happened, considering he works in a facility that is literally filled with water at every turn. That doesn’t make it any less inconvenient though. Especially since Geno used his last spare shirt the other day after assisting with an unexpectedly messy emergency surgery that left him in need of a change. He hasn’t remembered to bring in a spare set of clothes since then, so hopefully there are some clean scrubs in the supply closet.

“Look, Sid,” Geno whines pitifully. “You distract and now my shirt soaked.”

Sidney stands unfazed by the spray of water on his wetsuit, although the dripping hair forming dark curls across his forehead is sending butterflies dancing around in Geno’s stomach. It’s entirely unfair how beautiful Sidney looks in a generally unflattering piece of clothing, especially when Geno’s own wetsuit makes him look like a gangly giraffe wrapped in rubber. He looks away before he can get caught staring and begins unbuttoning his shirt, the cool water making the fabric feel tacky and uncomfortable against his skin. A crash makes him jump, startled by the loud noise. When he glances up, Sidney is bent over a bucket of cleaning supplies which are now scattered across the ground, that charming blush spreading across his cheeks once more.

“So clumsy, Sid,” Geno chides gently. He pauses in his undress to go help, but Sidney quickly bounces up just as Geno walks over, already backing away towards the storage rooms.

“I’ll just—I’ll see you later, G,” Sidney stumbles over his words before making a fast retreat.

If Geno watches him walk away for a few moments longer than necessary, well...he’s only human.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s been almost three weeks since Lacerta was rescued, and she’s an entirely different whale from when they first found her. Her weight is up, she flits about the large enclosure with increased amounts of energy, and her overall playfulness and demeanor is encouraging to see.

“I can never decide if I love or hate this part,” Sidney remarks, walking up to stand beside Geno as he preps his diving gear. Sidney’s actually wearing regular work attire today: khaki cargo shorts, a navy blue polo with the rescue center’s logo embroidered on the chest, and his ever-present yellow crocs. It’s rare to see him out of the water for a day, but Geno knows it’s Sidney’s way of avoiding the goodbyes.

Geno hums in agreement, soaking in these last few moments. It’s always bittersweet releasing an animal back into the wild. They spend so much time together, working so closely with them with the intent to rehabilitate them for this very purpose, but that can make it all the more difficult to let go when the time comes. The animals that reach their facilities tend to arrive with severe injuries or needs, so even with the care they receive here there’s still a decent chance they won’t survive long after being set free. That is the true hard part.

“Lacerta need to integrate back with a pod before too late, Sid,” Geno eventually replies.

“I know,” Sidney sighs. “I wish we could’ve found her mother, though. She’s so young.”

They’d attempted to locate any local cows who may have given birth this season or lost their calf, but the efforts had been fruitless. Most of the employees believe Lacerta’s mother was likely the victim of an orca attack. Geno knows Sidney is worried Lacerta won’t survive without her mother. She is still quite young to be out on her own, but they are reaching the point when it will do more harm than good to keep her here. Whales aren’t meant for captivity; even these past few weeks are pushing the limits of her care.

“She strong and fast,” Geno says rather than voicing his thoughts. “Will travel to feeding ground with pods and make new family.”

A technician calls out to Geno before Sidney can reply, so Geno grabs his diving gear and finishes strapping on the equipment. He needs to tag Lacerta and run some final exams on her before she can be officially released, but Geno knows she’s ready. They’ve been counting down the days for most of this week.

“Tell her goodbye for me,” Sidney requests, like he does every time.

Geno makes a silly face behind his diving mask just to see Sidney smile once more, then pats him comfortingly on the shoulder and heads down the ramp that hangs over the water.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What’s this, Geno?” Sidney walks into Geno’s office unannounced three days later, holding his hand out in front of him.

Geno doesn’t bother to look up from the report he’s typing. He’s used to Sidney letting himself in by now. “What?”

“This,” Sidney replies, thrusting his hand out further. Resting on his palm is the silver keychain Geno had purchased on a whim yesterday. He could only take so much of Sidney’s moping about Lacerta’s release before attempting to do something about it.

“What it look like? Is whale charm for keys. You always lose.”

Sidney huffs. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but you can’t just—”

“Lacerta not forget you, Sid,” Geno cuts him off. “She smart, you kind. Is special bond.”

“That’s not even—”

“Sid,” Geno interrupts again, putting his work aside. This is clearly going to take his full attention. “You allowed to feel things. Okay to be sad. We not think you weak or silly. You amazing, best at your job, always try hardest to help. That makes goodbye hard.”

“I...you think I’m amazing?”

Of course that’s all he got out of that explanation. Smiling, Geno rises and walks over to Sidney, standing a little closer than he would normally dare. “Most amazing. All animals love. Care so much all the time. Nobody else like you, Sid.”

Sidney looks away, Geno’s steady gaze tracking the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a fortifying breath. “There are many people who could do my job, Geno.”

“Not just a job to you,” Geno disagrees, gently guiding Sidney’s chin up so their eyes meet. “You best.”

“I don’t think—”

“Why always argue?” Geno chuckles. “I know best. Just accept.”

“You just want me to admit you’re right about something,” Sidney replies with a petulant huff, still arguing, the tiny beginnings of a smile starting to appear on his face.

“Yes, reveal master plan.” Geno rolls his eyes, taking another step closer. “Can’t just say thank you, Sid?”

Sidney blinks as though just realizing how rude he’s been. The thought doesn’t quite seem to compute with his polite, Canadian brain. “Of course. Thank you, Geno. It’s lovely.”

“Will use it?” Geno presses.

“I—” Sidney’s breath catches as Geno moves closer still.

“Find it in store,” Geno continues softly. “Think of Lacerta, remind me of you, work so hard with her. So beautiful swimming around in water.”

“She really was,” Sidney agrees.

Geno shakes his head. “Not talking about her, Sid.”

Their eyes meet again, a question in Sidney’s dark eyes that he doesn’t seem willing to voice. They are standing close enough now that Geno can feel Sidney’s warm exhales against his neck where his collar lies open, the sensation sending goosebumps across his skin. Geno bends down slowly, so as not to startle Sidney, their noses just brushing.

“So beautiful, Sid,” he whispers, helpless to resist the pull of Sidney that draws him ever nearer.

He remains there, waiting, the sound of their breaths the only noise in his quiet office. They’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, months even, Sidney always moving close and then away like a sunbeam dancing upon the open water. Geno doesn’t want to scare him off, would wait months more for Sidney, but the ache in his chest feels nearly unbearable right now in the tense silence.

“Geno,” Sidney finally says, so many unspoken words layered into his voice as he reaches up, one hand settling on the side of Geno’s neck, pulling him down the few inches necessary for their lips to meet.

Geno sighs into the kiss, the tense set of his shoulders melting away as he gathers Sidney closer, arms around his waist. Sidney tastes like the salt water he so often works in, his lips soft and warm against Geno’s. Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion as they kiss and Geno is content to linger there, savoring the feeling. Their lips gently separate what feels like hours later, yet altogether too soon, exhales mingling between them as neither of them move any farther apart than necessary. Geno strokes his hands gently up Sidney’s back, urging away the nervousness he can already feel gathering there. He delights in the flush that returns to Sidney’s cheeks and knowing he’s the cause of it.

Sidney hides his face in Geno’s neck, but Geno can feel the curve of Sidney’s lips and an answering smile blooms on his own face. He commits this moment to memory, somehow knowing that Sidney’s going to make him work for another one like it. If there’s anything Sidney’s always been entirely genuine and open about, it’s his dedication to his job. That’s part of what drew Geno to him in the first place. As good as this feels, Geno can almost guarantee Sidney won’t want to jeopardize their assignments by letting Geno distract him with kisses and touches at work.

Geno looks forward to testing this theory in the very near future.

Thank you for letting us participate in this, @sidgenophotochallenge!

#sidgeno photo challenge #sidgeno #sidney crosby/evgeni malkin #hockey rpf #my fic #my writing #this is my first time actually writing hockey rpf #i hope i did alright #this was so much fun #my knowledge of whales is painfully limited #just go with it okay?

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jewishclarkkent · 6 years

Text

A Hard Day’s Night

Summary: Being both a superhero and a reporter is a juggling act that's often hard to master. Thankfully, Clark has something to look forward to at the end of the day. [Read on AO3]

Rated T/PG-13.

Written for @mashimero as part of the @superbatsecretsanta. Thank you to @eurosthewanderer for the quick and efficient beta! Any mistakes are my own. Happy holidays!

It was approaching ten p.m. by the time Clark made it back to his apartment building, exhaustion lingering in every cell of his body. It had been a tough, demanding day. Throughout its course, Superman was needed on five different occasions, pulling Clark away from the Daily Planet and his investigations. Perry, justifiably irked by his continued absence, had yelled at him in front of the entire newsroom for a good ten minutes, going on and on about how unreliable Clark was. Lois sent sympathetic looks Clark’s way and tried to speak on his behalf, but not even her interjection could appease Perry’s temper. To try and compensate for the lost work hours and submit his latest article on time, Clark had stayed at the office late, missing the last bus home and having to bike back to his apartment in the pouring rain.

He sighed when he finally fit the key into his front door, ready to collapse at the entrance. Finally at home, he was unable to expel the frustration that had worked its way into his bones. In his haste to get out of his soaked clothes, he almost walked past the living room without noticing the man on his couch.

“Bruce?”

There was a hum of acknowledgment as Bruce continued typing on his laptop, features scrunched up in concentration, bare feet comfortably propped up on the coffee table.

Clark moved his wet bangs from his eyes, chest constricting as he took in the domestic scene in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

More rushed keystrokes, but this time Bruce arched an eyebrow in his direction. “You did say I was welcome any time when you gave me a key.”

“Yeah, no, of course you are, I just—” Clark started, when something occurred to him. He strode towards the window, glancing out into the back lane. “Oh, God. Please tell me you didn’t drive the Jag here.”

“Of course I didn’t,” said Bruce, finally closing his laptop and placing it on the table.

Clark took a deep breath, not feeling reassured in the slightest. For practical reasons, they were keeping their relationship out of the public spotlight. In Clark’s neighbourhood, any of Bruce’s cars would be out of place, like a neon sign advertising the presence of a wealthy outsider.

The last thing they needed was someone getting a whiff of it and investigating.

“You can wipe that worried expression off your face, you’re not going to find anything out there,” Bruce said. “I took the train.”

Clark blinked, certain he misheard. “You… took the train.”

“Yes.”

“You... know how to take the train?”

Bruce frowned, clearly unamused. “If you’re just going to be an ass about it, I’ll leave,” he said, rising from his spot on the couch to do so.

“No, no,” said Clark, biting his lip to hide a smile. The idea was pretty comical. “Please. Stay,” he added, closing the distance between them and placing a hand on Bruce’s chest in request.

Examining the man in front of him, Clark wondered how he could have missed the obvious disguise. With a bearded face and a baseball cap on his head, Bruce hardly looked like the famous billionaire featured on glossy magazine covers. The jeans he was wearing were tattered in places, lending them the appearance of being frequently worn. Best of all, he was wearing a grey Metropolis University hoodie; the same one Clark often left at the Manor. Really, he looked like the average Metropolite commuter, no different than Clark himself.

Smiling at the thought, Clark reached to remove his glasses and slid them onto Bruce’s nose. “To complete the look.”

Bruce looked down at the hand on his chest, considering. “Let me guess,” he said, eyes somehow even sharper behind Clark’s lenses. “You got reprimanded at work.”

Clark sighed, lowering his chin. “How’d you know?”

“Well, I did see Superman on the news,” said Bruce, cupping Clark’s cheek. “And you only ever get this snarky when you’ve had a bad day at the office.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a delicious curve, a look that only ever spelled trouble. “You know, I could always just buy the place. I hear Bruce Wayne’s a pretty lax boss.”

Clark glared.

“Right. That’s a no,” said Bruce, dropping back to land on the couch, pulling Clark down on top of him. “Ugh, you’re wet as a dog, Kansas.”

“What, afraid I’ll mess up your wardrobe?” Clark said with a teasing smile, even as he unbuttoned his flannel and let it drop to the floor. He got up to give the same treatment to his belt and pants, settling back onto Bruce’s lap in nothing but his underwear.

“God,” said Bruce, reaching to trace Clark’s bare chest and stomach. “You’re burning up.”

“Mhm,” Clark removed the cap from Bruce’s head, sifting his fingers through soft hair. With his other hand, he grabbed the front of the hoodie and used it to jerk Bruce forward, licking into his mouth. The response was one of enthusiastic reciprocation, Bruce’s tongue leaving no area of Clark’s mouth unmapped. When they separated, his head swayed forward, chasing Clark’s lips. “I am glad you’re here, you know. Can you spend the night, or do you have business in Gotham?”

“The kids are taking care of it,” Bruce responded, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as Clark gently caressed his throat.

“Good. I could use some company after the day I’ve had,” said Clark, burrowing his face into Bruce’s neck, enjoying the prickly sensation of the beard against his skin. The citrusy notes of Clark’s cologne still lingered on the hoodie’s collar, mixing in with the woodsy tang belonging to Bruce.

Bruce reached to move the bangs out of Clark’s eyes, tugging lightly on the persistent curl that always fell on his forehead. “Kal,” he said gravely, his expression serious. He only ever used the name when he was intent on commanding Clark’s attention, and it never failed to elicit a shiver down his spine. “Even you can’t be in two places at once.”

“I know that, I just—” Clark started, looking down. “Clark Kent, Superman… they always seem to come at the expense of each other.” He swallowed, shame settling in his stomach. “What if… I’m not doing all that I can? What if by trying to be two people I’m holding back from maximizing my actions?”

“So, what do you propose? Becoming Superman full time?”

Clark shrugged, feeling dejected. “I could do a lot of good. Maybe I’ve just been deluding myself in thinking I can live a human life. Maybe it’s nothing but a selfish dream.”

“Clark,” Bruce said urgently, cupping his face. “You’re the most human of us all. That’s precisely why Superman is so effective, and why he couldn’t exist without Clark Kent. Take it from someone who’s spent a lot of time trying to extinguish his own humanity. Everything Superman stands for… those are all things that were synthesized from Clark Kent and Kal-El.” He leaned in to brush their lips together, lingering on the corner of Clark’s mouth. “And I happen to hold a favourable opinion of the result.”

Clark stared into his eyes for a long moment, a tight ache unfurling in his chest. “Careful, Batman,” he said with a small smile. “You might lead me to conclude you give a damn.”

“Mhm. Don’t tell anyone.” Bruce rubbed at the points of his hip bones before squeezing his thighs. “Alright, off. On your stomach.”

“What for?” Clark asked, even as he left Bruce’s lap and allowed himself to be guided to lay on the couch.

“Trust me,” was the response Bruce provided before settling on Clark’s back, his weight a comforting presence. He began kneading Clark’s shoulders with firm pressure, working out knots Clark hadn’t realized were there. He bent down to place a kiss on his top vertebrae, grazing it lightly with his teeth, causing a jolt of pleasure to run down Clark’s spine. “Just relax,” Bruce whispered into his ear. “Let me take care of you.”

He took his time working on Clark’s back, his hands sliding down the skin with practiced ease, smoothing out every tensed muscle. By the time he was nearly done, Clark felt light and relaxed, the stress of the day having melted away with the touch of Bruce’s fingers.

With the massage finished, Clark turned to lie on his back, pulling Bruce down on top of him. “Thank you,” he whispered against Bruce’s lips, sneaking his hands under Bruce’s hoodie, running them along his ribs.

Bruce visibly shivered, eyes closed and voice gravelly when he spoke. “The things you do to me, Kansas.”

“The feeling’s very much mutual, B,” said Clark, warmth spreading down his entire body.

They laid like that for a long time, and Clark was beginning to doze off when Bruce got off of him. He opened his eyes and propped himself halfway up on his elbows, watching as Bruce entered the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, gesturing to the tiny dining table, where two plates loaded with food sat waiting. “Dinner’s long cold, but we could heat it up.”

Clark immediately tensed, dread clogging his throat. “Bruce, baby,” he began, swallowing nervously as he stood, keeping his distance. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes?” said Bruce, brow arched in suspicion.

“But there is absolutely no way,” said Clark, shuddering at the very thought, “that I am ever putting anything you’ve made into my body. Not even Kryptonian physiology can withstand it. In fact, it’s probably classified as a biohazard.”

Bruce frowned. “My cooking isn’t that bad.”

Clark folded his arms over his chest. “Your tuna sandwich sent Tim to the hospital. They thought he’d been poisoned.”

“He was exaggerating,” Bruce insisted.

Clark just glared.

“Fine,” Bruce acquiesced with a long-suffering sigh. “It’s takeout from the new Italian place down the street, you ass.”

Clark laughed as he caught the napkin Bruce hurled at him. Maybe, he thought, this day wasn’t so bad after all.

#superbat #bruceclark #superbatsecretsanta2017 #mashimero #manman #fic #otp: make me believe #otp: we'll never give up on each other #otp: because of you i know a man can be anything he wants to be #fanfiction #my fic

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thekillingquill · 7 years

Text

Dog Days Are Over

Pairing: Reader x Reggie Word Count: 6,910 Warnings: An animal was definitely hurt in the writing of this fic. There’s probably some swearing. Summary: Reader and Reggie live on the same street and walk the same route with their dogs. A/N: This is in tribute to Ross Butler’s portrayal of Reggie Mantle. Wishing him nothing but the best on all endeavours, but we’ll certainly miss him! Also if at least one person cries I will have considered this a success. Apologies on the lack of proofreading on my part.

“Oh Captain, my Captain!” I call out laughingly to the dark haired boy ahead of me. My dog, Ducky, lunges forward once in an impressive show of strength, dragging me a few steps closer to the boy I grew up down the street from and his faithful companion, Vader. Reggie shoots me a bored look over his shoulder, not replying, but slowing his walk to allow us to catch up.

Reggie rolls his eyes at me as Vader pulls on his leash in an attempt to get to Ducky. The end result is ruined by his half-smirk which looks more amused than annoyed. His dachshund runs between the legs of my Bernese Mountain Dog and she lunges playfully at him once, and then twice, barking and sniffing at him. After a moment the dogs are settled and we begin to walk side by side.

“So, congratulations on getting captain, dude!” I try to strike up a conversation. Reggie grunts in reply and mumbles something in return. “Hey, what’s up? I thought you’d be happy. You were giving Archie hell for that spot.” Reggie rolls his eyes again and grunts louder, but we both know I’m not easily derailed. I open my mouth and he cuts me off before I can really get started.

“Alright already! I guess I’m not that excited ‘cause Coach offered it to Andrews first. He turned it down.” I can tell this is hard for Reggie to talk about. It was a blow to his ego to even have to compete with Archie, but to lose out on it and only get it by default?

“That’s because Archie knows you’re the better man for the job,” I assure him. Reggie gives me that half smirk again and I can tell that he knows what I’m doing but he finds it at least a little endearing.

“Well we all know that. Just sucks that Coach didn’t see it.”

“He’ll see it soon enough, Reginald. Archie saw it, I’ve seen it and I know that a lot of your other teammates have seen it, too. You’re going to be a boss ass Captain.” Reggie rolls his eyes at me and shoulder checks me.

“Oh shit!” He exclaims as I stumble off the edge of the sidewalk, but he’s laughing and that’s what’s important to me in the moment. Shortly after, we arrive at the park and let our dogs off their leashes. Vader takes off like a shot, and Ducky noses around at the grass nearby. Reggie pulls a bright orange ball out of his pocket and tosses it a few times for Vader to chase after. Occasionally Reggie throws the ball towards Ducky and she attempts to get it before Vader races over. I cross my arms over my chest and bite my lip, watching our dogs play. It isn’t long before I notice that Ducky is showing less interest in the game. Reggie teases the dogs by pretending to throw the ball, and she doesn’t react at all.

“Everything okay?” Reggie asks, nudging me with his elbow. I’m not sure if he’s referring to my quiet disposition or Ducky’s lackluster response.

“There’s that Captain spirit,” I try to tease, but my tone falls flat. Reggie wouldn’t be my first choice to unload my feelings on, but he’s here and he asked. I sigh and start to let my worries ease out.

“I’m just worried about Ducky. She’s been tired lately. Not that into her favourite treats or toys. Just been acting off for a few weeks. We went to the v-word a couple of days ago and they ran some tests. We’ve got to go later today to get the results.” I reach around Reggie and steal the ball, taking two steps and throwing the ball as hard as possible for Vader. I imagine that ball is carrying all of my fear, all of my worry, all the bad things away from me.

“Shit, that sucks.” Is all he says. I shrug and Vader drops the ball at my feet.

“As you may recall, we detected some abnormal swelling during our initial examination. We took a sample and had it tested and I’m sorry to have to tell you but it’s not good. The results show that the swelling in Ducky is cancerous…” Doctor Jameson, the veterinarian we have been taking Ducky to since we got her when I was five, is still talking, but I can’t hear her over the buzzing in my ears. I keep my eyes on Ducky who is panting innocently on the examination table while Doctor Jameson parts her fur to show my parents what she’s talking about. When the buzzing stops, she is talking about treatment options.

“And how much would that cost?” My father asks gruffly. He only has the two settings: gruff and drunk.

“The total cost for this particular treatment can range anywhere between $6,000-$10,000. I have to be honest with you, given Ducky’s age and this particular type of cancer, you may want to consider investing your efforts in making her as comfortable as possible.” Doctor Jameson has a soft, confident voice and sympathetic eyes. Ducky loves her and I have always found her to be comforting and steady, even now.

“And how much is that gonna cost us?” My father asks, still gruff.

“Should we be considering, you know…” My mother pipes in, practical as always but sounding sorry to ask. She jabs vaguely at Ducky, a poor gesture that equates to one thing: an injection.

“At this point, it’s something to consider,” Doctor James concedes. For my benefit, she looks me straight in the eye and adds: “This form of cancer can be aggressive.”

“I need some air,” I choke out. I hear Ducky’s nails clicking against the exam table as she rushes to follow after me. We sit in the waiting room for twenty minutes, her sitting against my legs and me with my arms looped around her neck in an embrace that will have to end one way or another. I can’t remember a time where I didn’t have Ducky. Whenever my dad has more than four beers, he likes to tell me about the day he brought Ducky home.

“I must have been out of my fucking mind to bring that thing home. A bunch of us were at the bar after a hard day and my boss announces that his wife’s dog had a little-litter of pups and he offers me one. I lost my damn mind, I said yeah and he brought me to his place and gives me this little runt and I take her home and once she’s in the door I know there’s no getting rid of her. It was love at first sight. Never did understand why you named the damn thing Ducky, though.”

Despite his style of storytelling, I know my dad likes Ducky. He feeds her from the table, and he lets her up on the couch when he thinks no one is home. He even lets her lay her head on his thigh and he plays with her ears. My mom never had pets growing up and she has trouble with the mess that accompanies living with an animal. She is constantly at her wits end about the smudged windows, muddy pawprints on the floor, fur coating the furniture, and during Ducky’s puppyhood, the “accidents” on the rug drove her up the wall.

Her biggest problem with us having a dog was that I wanted Ducky to sleep in my bed with me. Despite my tantrums, my mother insisted on putting Ducky in a crate at night. After two nights of constant whining (me and Ducky), crying (me), and accidents (Ducky), my mother gave up on crating. She tried putting Ducky outside, but I cried even harder and the neighbours complained about her barking. My mom’s last attempt was to get Ducky a dog bed for my room. It didn’t work and mom still complains incessantly about it.

I know they aren’t bad people and that they aren’t intentionally trying to break my heart, but I already know how this ends. Dad is to the point: why wait? Mom is ready to have her clean house back after twelve years. Dad will try to comfort me by saying I’ll get over it. My mom will be kinder and tell me that Ducky won’t suffer anymore. Ultimately, the decision will be made for me. Still, this isn’t easy, but since when is loving something ever easy?

My parents, in a moment of thoughtfulness and compassion, offer to let me skip school on Friday to spend the day with Ducky before….

And mom, in a surprising move, tells me firmly that if I don’t want to do this, then she and dad will figure out a way to make Ducky comfortable until they can’t anymore: “If we have to take a second mortgage out on the house, then we will, baby.”

Then in a very predictable move she reminds me about how uncomfortable this could be for Ducky, how they can’t promise how long it will sustain her… but softens the blow with a hug and a whisper: “These kinds of decisions are never easy and I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

I cry into Ducky’s neck the whole drive home. On Saturday at 10:00 am, she has her last appointment with Doctor Jameson. The appointment feels like the wrong decision, but letting Ducky exist without finding joy in the things she loves seems wrong, too. Maybe there’s no right decision.

I sniffle and lift my head to look out the window, trying hard to stop crying. It feels like I’ve been crying for close to an hour and my head is pounding. As we pull into our neighbourhood, I can see the blurry form of Reggie in his front yard tossing a ball to one of his friends (I can’t tell who it is through the never ending onslaught of tears).

I try hastily to hide my crying before getting out of the car where Reggie and his friend could possibly see me. Unfortunately, it’s kind of impossible to hide the kind of crying that comes with having a broken heart. My eyes are so swollen it hurts to blink and the ache of my throat makes swallowing nearly impossible. I take a deep breath and get out of the car, holding the door for Ducky. I try to ignore how slow she moves as she gets out, just one of the many signs I’d been purposely blind to for weeks.

The sound of the door shutting must bring their attention to me.

“Hey, Y/N-” I turn away hastily from who I now know is Moose and take determined strides to my house. I’m too embarrassed by the state of myself to care about being rude. I wait for Ducky in the doorway and look at the porch, suddenly wracked by sobs that quickly turned into desperate gasps for breath. Watching her move so carefully over the steps hurts, so I close my eyes until I feel her wet nose press against my fingers like she was saying it’s okay, Y/N, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here.

I don’t have much of an appetite that night, but we all sit around the table and pick at dinner. I tell my parents about the day I have planned and we all pretend to not notice one another feeding Ducky under the table. Her wet nose presses against my bare knees, snuffling for more scraps and I scratch behind her ears to comfort myself as I speak.

That night I sleep pressed as close as possible to Ducky, not caring about any noxious gas she might emit or that her fur tickles my nose. I just want to hold her while I still can.

We get up bright and early on Friday so that we can get the most out of the perfect day I planned for her: we’re going to go to Pop’s and I’m going to let her have more burgers than she’s ever had in her life and then we’ll go to the park and end our day at a dog beach two hours outside of town. Dad, in a show of kindness, has offered us the use of his car.

Except when I open the front door, it’s Reggie Mantle and his car sitting in the driveway instead of my dad’s trusty old Toyota. His arm is hanging casually out of the open window, a pair of sunglasses resting atop his head and Vader standing with his front paws on the steering wheel. Ducky, seeing her friend, pushes out from behind me and jogs down the front steps to greet them with more energy than I was expecting.

“Are you coming or what?” Reggie calls to me sarcastically. He’s rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling, too. It’s a rare sight, a Reggie Mantle smile.

“Is this a prank?” I ask him suspiciously, letting my tote fall to the porch and my dad’s keys dangling uselessly from my fingers.

“What kind of prank would this be? The kind where I’m gonna get you and your little dog, too? Get in the car, loser! We’re burning daylight here.” He bangs his hand against the door causing Vader to slip and honk the horn. I move slowly to the driver side of the vehicle, still not quite trusting the situation, and stick my head in. Ducky, knowing better than to jump up on someone’s car, is jogging in circles looking for a way in.

“Reginald, what exactly do you think you are doing in my driveway at 8:30 am on a Friday?” Reggie looks uncomfortable, which usually means he’s moments away from being sincere.

“Your parents called me last night.” Reggie lets that statement linger a moment before he recovers. “Look, Ducky’s practically my dog-in-law. You can’t really think you can plan the perfect day for her and not include Vader.”

For the first time since the appointment, I smile. It’s small, but it gives me a renewed energy.

“Will you just get in the car already?” He snaps and I pull my head back abruptly.

“Right, come on, Ducky! Let’s go.” I open the backseat and coax Ducky to jump up. Reggie’s SUV is a bit higher up than dad’s Toyota, but between me and the captain of the football team we should be able to get her in and out without any issues today. I hop into the passenger seat and narrowly avoid getting headbutted by Vader as he dives into the back seat to be with Ducky.

“So where are we headed?” Reggie asks as he reaches behind my seat to look over his shoulder. He slowly eases out of my driveway and I try to ignore how appealing I find his cologne.

“Pop’s to get burgers.” I answer confidently. Reggie faces forward and removes his arm from behind my seat.

“Okay… but normal people tend to go to Pop’s at 8:00 am for breakfast foods like waffles or french toast.” He says as he switches gears. Despite his statement, he takes the turn towards Pop’s.

“Pop’s to get burgers.” I repeat forcefully.

Much to Reggie’s delight, the waitress at Pop’s had the same reaction to my order.

“You want ten burgers? Is this a joke I’m not getting or sumthin’? You realize it’s breakfast time, right?”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, thank you very much.”

I couldn’t imagine Ducky’s perfect last day without Reggie and Vader. With them by our side, the day feels epic. We spend the morning walking around the park and throwing a few balls for Vader to fetch. My mind is preoccupied with all the other times Ducky and I spent at the park and Reggie listens to story after story and even adds a few of his own.

“Do you remember when you were like eight years old and your dad had you hold her leash while he got his tools out of the back of his car? She saw that squirrel and dragged you through your lawn and mine before your dad got her to stop. You must have weighed like 40 pounds! And you had all of these grass stains. It was hilarious!”

We laugh together at the memory and the more I smile, the better I start to feel. Reggie and I bump shoulders and eventually he puts his arm around me and runs his palm over my shoulder in a surprisingly comforting gesture.

Before we leave the park I let Ducky have two of her burgers. It’s still early in the day, so I ask Reggie if he minds driving around for a bit with the windows down. He lets me navigate and pick the music. With all four windows rolled down, my hair whips around wildly. The sight of it causes Reggie to laugh which in turn causes me to laugh. In the back seat, Ducky and Vader both have their heads out the window, basking in the scents of their town. I use the side mirror to watch them and Reggie pretends not to notice when I start crying.

I wipe my tears and reach for one of the water bottles Reggie procured at a gas station. Our hands meet and he doesn’t let go.

The dog beach is mostly vacant in the middle of the afternoon on a Friday. Reggie points out a pug wearing a lifejacket standing in the shallows. Vader disturbs the pug by racing into the water, trying to start a game of chase. Ducky, however, bypasses them both and begins to swim out to the middle of the lake. I laugh at her excitement and shimmy out of my shorts.

“I hope you brought your swimsuit, Reginald.” I tease as I pull my shirt over my head.. I take advantage of his shock to throw my clothes in his face. “There’s a beach blanket in my bag!” I yell back at him as I run after my dog.

Reggie starts in on some of Pop’s burgers while he sits on the beach, watching Ducky and I play together. I continue to tread water for a while even after Ducky has returned to the beach. I watch her, Reggie and Vader resting on the blanket and commit the moment to memory. Reggie offers Ducky another burger and my own hunger drives me out of the water.

There’s a sudden rush of guests at the dog beach and Vader runs off to make friends. Reggie follows after him, leaving Ducky and I alone for the first time today. She’s laying on her side, breathing deeply and I scooch down so that I can rest my head on her stomach. I shut my eyes for a moment and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I must fall asleep because when I open my eyes again, the light has changed and Reggie is running his fingertips along the arch of my foot. I giggle and kick, rolling onto my side and pushing myself up.

“Jesus, how long was I out for?” Reggie smirks and pulls at a loose thread on our blanket. Vader is curled up in front of us, his fur still damp and my clothes are in a bunched up pile next to him. The sky is alight with oranges, purples and pinks reflecting hauntingly off the water.

“Hours, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe, Reginald.” I sit up fully and pull my shirt over my head with a sigh.

“Whatever you say, babe.” I scoff and roll my eyes, but ultimately let it go. Sitting on the dog beach with Ducky asleep beside me, watching the sunset with Reggie and Vader, felt peaceful. My heart is still broken, but it was a good day full of more laughter than tears. I feel the warm weight of Reggie’s arm across my back followed by his fingers curling around my shoulder, pulling me close to his side.

“I’m glad you let me come.” He mutters, pressing his mouth against my temple in a not-quite-a-kiss.

“I had a choice?” I joke weakly, pressing myself closer to hide my face in his shoulder. I press my mouth against his t-shirt in a not-quite-a-kiss and let the moment wash over me again and again and again.

“It’s okay if you decide you don’t want to be there for this.” I’m sitting on the stairs, trying to find the will to put on my shoes. Ducky is sitting next to me, sticking her nose in my ear. I look up at my mom and give an unconvincing smile, but remain silent. We got home from the beach late last night and my mom let us sleep in which means I haven’t had the opportunity to shower. My hair feels disgusting from the lake water, so I’ve pulled it into a side ponytail. Ducky is loving the unrestricted access to my ear.

“You sure you wanna do this, kid? Your mom and I will be with her. She won’t be alone when she goes.” Dad is gruff as always, but this time I vocalize my response, forcing my foot into my last sneaker and standing.

“I need to do this.” My parents exchange a look that only they can understand. With my shoes on and Ducky’s leash clipped to her collar, we have no other excuses to stay home. When we step out the front door, I see Reggie Mantle in my driveway for the second day in a row. He’s wearing his letterman jacket and a pair of dark wash jeans, his hands buried deep in the pockets. He pulls one of his hands out and raises it in a wave. Ducky heads straight to him, slower than yesterday, and I follow quickly behind.

“Reginald, what are you doing here?” I ask in greeting. I have never seen Reggie look more uncomfortable. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and rubs the back of his neck.

“I thought maybe I could come with you…?” I think it surprises us both when I accept. My parents don’t question Reggie when he gets into the back seat with Ducky and I, but my dad looks extra gruff. It’s a tight fit with all three of us back there, but it doesn’t matter because I want to be as close as possible to Ducky. I bury my face in her fur and feel Reggie’s fingers move through it in a calming manner. Occasionally the pad of his index finger drags down my cheek. His touch is soft and warm and I cling to each moment of contact for comfort. As panic threatens to overwhelm me, I begin to count each occurrence of an accidental caress. I’ve counted to twenty-one by the time we pull into the parking lot.

I’m visibly shaking when we get to the door of the veterinarian’s office. Reggie puts his hand on my lower back and it steadies me momentarily.

“You don’t have to come in,” my mom offers again, smiling at me sympathetically. She’s wrong and she’s been wrong every time she’s offered it before. Ducky is my dog and I have to be there for her. I won’t take the easy way out. I need to be there for her just like how she was always there for me. I shake my head and imagine that my bones are made of steel and remind myself to be strong for myself and for Ducky. In spite of this, I continue to walk on legs that tremble with each step forward.

Doctor Jameson is waiting in the lobby for us with a sad smile. A ringing is starting in my ears and I worry that I might be going deaf on top of all the other shit I have to deal with. She leads the way to an exam room where a veterinarian’s assistant has just finished her preparations. She gives me a sympathetic smile and squeezes my arm as she passes. Ducky can’t get up on the table on her own, most likely due to our adventure yesterday, so my dad and Reggie work together to lift her.

“She won’t feel anything,” Doctor Jameson says. She looks me square in the eye and I feel her passing some of her strength on to me. “Some people find it comforting to pet them.”

My hand quivers as I reach out and bury it in the thick fur on Ducky’s side. At my touch Ducky’s head lifts and her eyes strain to see me. She is my best friend and I know she can sense the wreckage inside of me. As I look into Ducky’s eyes, I have to choke back tears. The effort of it worsens my shaking and Doctor Jameson has to put her hand on Ducky to prevent her from getting up.

I break and let out an inhuman sob. I suck in air desperately and before I fully descend into grief I say his name: Reggie. Not Reginald, or Captain, but Reggie. I sound utterly wrecked to my own ears and I can’t imagine what my parents think about my behaviour, let alone him. It is a nanosecond before I feel one of his arms come across my torso from behind and the other secures a tight grip on my waist. He’s holding me up, I realize. I am no longer capable of standing on my own.

“She’s gone,” Doctor Jameson whispers and I turn and grip fistsful of Reggie’s shirt, crying so hard that the sound can only be heard by the sensitive hearing of a dog.

I spend my weekend crying and sleeping. Before we left, Doctor Jameson gave my dad Ducky’s collar. It’s a black collar with skulls wearing flower crowns adorning it. I saw it at a flea market and knew it would be beautiful around her neck. I cling so tightly to it that I lose sensation in my fingers for hours. At some point, Reggie brings Vader over to visit. I was too tired from crying to be of much fun. He holds me until I fall asleep for what must be the third time that day. When I wake up, my back is pressed to his chest and our fingers are linked and the back of his hand is resting against the bare skin of my collarbone. Vader is asleep between our legs, his head resting on my calf.

My parents let them stay the night and on Sunday Reggie gets a call from his mom and has to leave. Before he goes, he presses his forehead against my temple and gives my arm a squeeze.

On Monday, Reggie stuns me by approaching me at my locker to ask me how I’m doing. He looks tired and his voice is soft, eyes serious. Not once does he roll them at me. It’s enough to convince me to tell him the truth.

“I keep seeing her everywhere. Like, out of the corner of my eye I think I see her waiting at the top of the stairs, or laying on my bed… but the hardest part is trying to get used to sleeping alone. I haven’t slept alone in ten years, Reginald. To make matters worse, my mom and dad have their yearly couples retreat this weekend. They offered to cancel, but they only did that so that they don’t seem like dickheads. See, if I accept their offer, then I’m the dickhead. Because they expect me to say I’m fine it’s no problem, sure leave me home alone. They just offered so they can at least they say they did. And when they feel bad on their trip they can comfort each other by saying that they offered and I said it was okay. It was never really an offer. It was a societal expectation that has been checked of their list.”

He doesn’t roll his eyes or smirk or smile, he just stares. And I know right then and there that I’ve officially become too much drama for Reggie Mantle. So it’s completely out of left field when I open my door and find Reggie Mantle in my driveway for the third time in a week.

“Hey, Y/N.” My eyes are roaming over him hungrily, taking in as many details as I can. It’s not until this moment that I realize I was scared that I’d only ever seen him again at a distance--at football games, in his yard, in the halls at school.

He lets me look like he understands what I was feeling. I finally focus on the tote he has hanging over one shoulder and Vader’s empty leash in the other hand. “So, I need a favour.”

I raise an eyebrow and sag against the porch railing, gesturing with my hand for him to continue. I’m hoping that the gesture looks cool and indifferent as opposed to what it really is: relief. Relief that Reggie will still talk to me, that he is here in my driveway and that he thought of me when he realized he needed something. Relieved that all our progress from neighbours to friends appears to be in tact.

“So my aunt was admitted to the hospital last weekend and we’re going to be heading to Texas for the weekend to see her and help take care of my cousins. Would you be able to dogsit Vader?” My mouth falls open in shock.

“Dogsit?” I repeat, aghast. Reggie has the gall to smirk at me and roll his eyes.

“Yeah, dogsit. I figure I’d ask you because it’s not like you have plans, right? If you’re too busy, though, Moose can watch him, but he lives pretty far from the park...”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Reginald.” He smirks again, it’s a smug twist of his lips like he’s just won. He whistles and Vader comes racing from down the street, his momentum taking him past Reggie and closer to me. I pat my knees and Vader lopes up the steps and circles my legs with excitement.

“Oh my god, he’s not even going to miss me, is he?” He’s trying to joke with me, but it’s not working. There’s a disconnect between us, an awkwardness because Ducky is gone, but Vader is here. My heart is shattered, his is whole. But Reggie’s had a taste of what it will be like and it has shaken him, at least a little.

“He’ll miss you every second.” I promise him. Before Reggie leaves, I ask him what happened to his aunt.

“Cancer,” he says. And I know we are both thinking of Ducky.

Vader and I spend a lovely weekend together. He likes to sleep under my blankets, curled up against my stomach. We go for walks at the park and the ache of missing Ducky is still there, but I don’t cry once. When we walk home from the park, Vader tugs the leash in the direction of his home and I know that he misses Reggie, just like I said he would. When Reggie gets back from Texas, he finds Vader and I playing fetch in the park. He looks sullen until he spots us.

“Oh Captain, my Captain!” I call in greeting. Reggie surprises me by wrapping his arms around me from behind and lifting me clear off my feet. “Reginald!”

He puts me back on the ground, but continues to grip me tightly. We sway from side to side and then Vader is jumping all over his master.

Every day Reggie knocks on my front door and invites me to walk Vader with him. We talk about simple things, sometimes we share memories of Ducky and I start to heal with their help. One day, I broach the topic of getting a new dog with my parents. They surprise me by saying that they will consider it, but that they think I still need some time.

“You can’t just replace a dog,” my dad announces gruffly. After Ducky has been gone for six months, I ask again and they give their blessing to start looking at shelters.

Reggie is the first person I tell and after several walks I find the courage to ask him if he and Vader will go with me to the shelter. He thinks it’s weird, but he humours me.

“Listen Reginald, Vader is like my dog-in-law. Any new dog of mine has to accept that if they want to be part of the family.”

We’re on our fifth visit to the shelter when I meet Jaspar, a mutt with a sweet disposition who is twice the size of Reggie’s daschund (or as I call him in private, Reggie’s better half). Jaspar’s amber eyes have a regal air about them and seem older than his estimated four years. He’s got short, tawny fur and a white marking on his rump that almost looks like a raindrop. I go into his kennel to meet with him and offer him my hand. He sits and leans forward to sniff at my fingers. Slowly he descends to the floor and rolls to his side.

On our sixth visit, we arrange for Jaspar and Vader to have an introduction. They bond almost instantly.

“I think he’s the one,” I tell Reggie with a hopeful smile. Reggie rolls his eyes and smirks.

“Then what are you standing around here for? Go get your dog!” With his encouragement driving me, I put in the adoption paperwork that day, without consulting my parents. When Reggie and I bring Jaspar home, my father is gruff and my mother is annoyed. In Reggie’s presence, they restrain themselves and it all feels so normal.

It’s possible that I am more excited for our first walk together than Jaspar is. I laugh when he picks up the end of his leash and drops low to the ground with his tail wagging high in the air. My excitement is clearly contagious. I grab for the leash and he playfully jumps to the side, just out of reach. The game ends when Reggie knocks on the door. I make sure I have a good grip on Jaspar’s leash and open the door. Immediately our dogs lunge toward each other with tails wagging. I grin at Reggie over their heads and he smirks back at me. It takes a few minutes for them to calm down enough to start our walk. There’s something charging the air between us, more obvious today than any other day.

As we begin our walk, Reggie’s fingers interlock with mine and suddenly we are holding hands. Not long after that, Jaspar makes an attempt at a squirrel and I need both hands to get him under control again. Reggie doesn’t take my hand again and I try not to feel disappointed.

It’s not long until we reach the park. At this time of day there are only one or two people here. We let our dogs off their leashes and I’m a little nervous for Jaspar. What if he takes off? What if he and another dog get into an altercation?

Reggie pulls a purple ball out of his pocket and throws it to the other end of the field. Both dogs sprint after it and Jaspar catches it on its second bounce. Reggie’s arm reaches around my waist, startling me. He pulls me close and rests his chin on my head.

“Stop worrying,” he tells me firmly. He lets me go to throw the ball again and this time he pulls me into a tight hug, resting his cheek on my shoulder and burrowing his nose in my hair.

“Y/N?” He mumbles. I swallow thickly and focus on keeping my voice steady.

“Yes, Reginald?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.” He confesses before pulling away. Vader has been waiting for his attention and drops the ball at Reggie’s feet, barking and twirling, look at me, Reg, look at me! Throw the ball, pal, come on, throw it! I’ve been patient. Reggie throws the ball into the bushes this time, but doesn’t reach for me again.

“You could, you know. Kiss me, that is. I’d be okay with it.” I say out loud. Reggie raises his eyebrows and rolls his eyes at me.

“Oh, you’d be okay with it, would you?” He puts one hand on my hip and the other pushes my hair away from my face.

“Don’t be a smart ass, Reginald.” He smirks at me smugly and leans down. Just when I think he’s about to kiss me, he pauses. I gasp at the nearness of him and I know he’s smirking.

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” I whisper and put a hand against his cheek to pull his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and I’m nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of it. It heats me from the inside out. His kiss is firm, decisive, and I part my lips slightly, allowing my tongue to sample the taste of his bottom lip. He squeezes my hip and presses his mouth harder to mine. I reciprocate in kind and suck gently. He pulls back, inhaling deeply through his nose.

“I wish I hadn’t waited so long.” He mutters, framing my face with his warm hands. I reach up to hold his wrists and give him a smirk of my own. He bites his lip and avoids my eye, stepping away from me. He gently pulls his wrists from my grasp and leans down to scoop up the ball that has been deposited at our feet. He whistles to get Jaspar and Vader’s attention, showing them the ball and moving it from left to right. Their eyes remained trained on their hearts desire: the ball. I keep my eyes firmly on Reggie. Eventually he throws the ball into the bushes and our dogs speed away.

“Hey,” I say, demanding with my voice that he look at me again. I reach down for his hand and press it firmly to my cheek, nuzzling it. His thumb strokes my temple and I melt into him. “What’s up?” I ask, forcing my half-lidded eyes to open. Reggie sighs, letting his eyes fall shut as he touches his forehead to mine.

And then Jaspar hits me in the back of the knees with his front paws, nearly sending me falling. Reggie’s quick reflexes allow him to let go of my face and grip my waist instead. Once I’m steady on my feet, Reggie releases his grip on me and growls. He scoops up the ball, throwing it aggressively back to the bushes. His hands come up to grip his hair.

“We’re moving to Texas at the end of the year.” He’s yelling it to the park, pacing like a caged tiger. He sighs and lets his hands fall to his sides. “I’m moving after school is out. My aunt isn’t doing well and she needs full-time care. It’s such a fucking mess.” He kicks a rock and Jaspar turns to investigate while Vader drops the ball at Reggie’s feet. He kicks the ball, too and the dogs run off again.

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t know what Reggie needs to hear right now. “I know you worked really hard for your captaincy, but Texas has amazing football programs. Even if you don’t make captain at least you’ll be playing with people who share your passion for it!” Reggie’s expression is aghast and I force myself to stop babbling.

“It’s just…” Reggie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and focuses them on me with the intensity I’ve only ever seen him exhibit on the football field.

“I… Vader doesn’t want to go, not now that he has Jaspar to hang out with. It feels like he and Jaspar really have something special together. Vader’s not ready for it to be over. He doesn’t want their time together to be nothing because to Vader, it’s been everything.”

“Reginald,” I start, swallowing thickly. “Your inability to confront your own emotions can be a real dick punch, you know that?” Reggie shouts a laugh and presses his fist to his mouth in surprise. To avoid looking at him, I throw the ball and imagine my fear going with it.

“I can’t believe you just used the words dick punch in a sentence.”

“Well you’re a terrible influence. Jesus Reginald, this was never nothing. It’s been everything to me, too. And if I learned anything from this year, it’s that caring about stuff can be painful, but it’s so worth it. So maybe you disagree, but I want you for as much time as we have left, nothing held back. You, me, and our best friends.” Jaspar has decided that he does not want to drop the ball, but Reggie is working to coax it out. It is covered in dog slime, and Reggie has to wipe his hands on his jeans after he’s thrown it.

“Okay. Let’s do it then. Me, you, and our best friends. For as long as we’ve got.” And he kisses me again, once, twice, three times and then one lingering kiss with enough force to shatter a fragile heart. When the heartbreak hits, I know it will be worth it.

Taglist: @tasteofswallowedwords @forsythe-pendleton-jones-iv

#Quill Writes #I'm up 51 minutes late to post this #no proof reading #Reggie Mantle #Reggie x Reader #Reggie imagine #Reggie Mantle imagine #Reader x Reggie #RIP Ross Butler portrayal of Reggie

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meanderings0ul · 7 years

Text

Dodio Fic Preview 1

Taking part in femslash February at the very last hour. Of course.

This is a portion of a long fic I’ve been working on off and on for about two years. As we’ve have more episodes involving our favorite Wayward ladies I’ve made changes to keep things in line with canon. It’s been a challenge and I’m glad I’ve done it. This fic is from Jody’s pov and focuses not only on the relationship she build’s with Donna, but on her careers as sheriff and part-time hunter, and the girls she’s taken in when they had no where else to go. I’d hoped to finish it this month of course, but between grad school and that fact that my outline now suggests its going to end up at around 30,000 words, yikes, it’s not finished yet.You can expect to see another preview snippet or two before it’s finally complete.

Please enjoy <3

She met Donna in the muddy parking lot of the county’s tiny morgue three hours later. Donna’d clearly been waiting out next to her car for a while, ankles crossed and blonde ponytail fluffed out from the breeze. The second Jody stood the woman sorta, well, cooed a little and hugged Jody hello, way too tight and sudden. Jody tried not to instinctively shrug her off.

“Ooo, are you a sight for sore eyes! How’ve you been? I haven’t been in to take a look yet, but we’ll just tell them we’ve worked together on something like this before right? It shouldn’t be a problem.”

It wasn’t. Donna introduced them in a flood of over energetic conversation and Jody glowered over her shoulder when it looked like the clerk was going to make a fuss. They sailed through the morgue visit and examining the guy’s files in a blur of slightly too off the record police work. Donna was never squeamish at the body or the photos, didn’t waste any time they didn’t need to spend talking to the cop that’d been first on scene and Jody played up the surliness whenever it looked like someone wasn’t going to take Donna seriously.

Damn, was it fun.

This was ridiculous. What were they going to do? Run off on badly informed hunts whenever there was something in the tri state area? They had real jobs, real identities at risk, hell Jody had a teenager at home that had probably already snuck out. This couldn’t possibly work out as a repeat thing.

But Jody already knew she’d really like it to. Donna was humming and it wasn’t even annoying her, and a crime scene only they had a hope of dealing with waiting for them.

But Sam finally called Jody back when they were in Donna’s car almost to the victim’s house.

“You said big bites, deep scratches, on a guy inside a locked house?”

“Something like that.”

“Anything go suddenly right in his life about ten years ago? Money? Miraculous health recovery?”

Jody glanced at Donna and repeated the questions but she only shrugged, pursed her lips out and shook her head.

“Doesn’t seem like there was anything major Sam, why’re you askin?”

Sam sighed. He sounded exhausted, hadn’t even so much as said hi. “Well, sometimes it isn’t obvious. Sounds like a demon deal. You usually get ten years then your times up, hellhounds come to collect the soul and there’s basically nothing you can put in their way. Locks don’t matter. Lot of people just end it when they hear them coming.”

“Hellhounds.”

Donna’s head snapped away from the road to stare at Jody, frowning.

“Yeah. They’re invisible. There won’t be any traces except the bites and scratches on the vic. And they’ll be long gone by now Jody. There’s nothing for you to do. Sorry I couldn’t get back to you faster.”

“It’s fine Sam, now we know. Wait, wait don’t hang up yet. You boys doing ok?” He sounded too flat, like he’d been up for days.

“Yeah, we’re good, just busy. Sorry Jody, I gotta go.” Sam hung up with a click.

Yeah, they weren’t good.

Shit.

Donna parked her car in the road outside the victim’s house, but left it running. There was really no reason to go in now. Police tape was still up over the door. Some flowers had been left near the doorstep.

“Apparently the victim probably made a deal with a demon. A hellhound comes to collect later.”

“Demon? An actual demon.”

Her voice was a little high, face pale when Jody glanced over. “Yeah, they’re just as real as vamps. Demons I’ve actually seen before. Sorry Donna. And now hellhounds are real too apparently.”

Donna sighed, drummed her knuckles on the steering wheel. “So there’s nothing to be done? This poor fellas dead, his family’s devastated, and the thing that did it just poofs away into nothing like a dandelion?”

A dandelion. Jody shrugged.

“Sam said a lot of people who know this is coming commit suicide when they hear the hounds, so that’s why we don’t see this as often as it happens. They just get lumped in with the rest of the unexplained suicide cases.”

Donna shook her head, turned back to look at the guy’s empty little house, little blue truck still parked out front under a yellow streetlight. “Hellhounds. Who’d a thought.”

Jody looked and wondered for a moment what could have driven the guy to this.

All the fun had gone out of their little side case, but Jody didn’t regret the drive. They made their apologies to the local department, made some excuses, ended up sitting in some late night diner before they both drove back towards home, drinking godawful black coffee and discussing demons just as seriously as any other bit of police procedure.

Jody ordered another awful coffee. She still had work tomorrow and finding a hotel at this hour for less than one night was a ridiculous hassle.

“It’s amazing how much you miss before you know, what you miss about this stuff, things you can’t believe you didn’t notice before. There must be more people like us who know, who’ve seen things. Lots even,” Donna said. “You’re telling me the Winchester boys have been hunting this stuff for years on end, so there must be more people around who know. How did I not hear anything for so long? Especially in our line of work, we come across all sorts of things. Eventually enough people will have to be in the know that it won’t all stay so unidentified, right?”

Jody took another drink of shit coffee and thought about Sioux Falls. About the hundreds of families that had a loved one return and then turn into something else. About how there were only five people Jody could think of that were willing to acknowledge the experience, all the stories in the local papers about mass hallucinations and accidental injury all due to a chemical spill. So tragic.

So very tragic.

Jody hadn’t been involved with that press release for obvious reasons, but she knew everyone who had, and they all believed in it like it was true. Bobby’d been the only thing in the aftermath that’d kept her from fucking losing it.

Donna had to be right. There were lots of people out there who knew about these things. Had to be. But it would be a long damn time before most of them were willing to know much at all. Thinking otherwise was a useless daydream at best.

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to forget,” she said.

But Donna only sighed, tapped her nails with their chipped purple polish on the slimy table. “I know what you mean.”

And Jody somehow felt like she actually, probably did.

Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, text me once you’ve

made it back to familiar territory? You had way

more of a drive to take on than I did. I’m

already stuck at a light in Sioux Falls.

No prob! I should be home in about two hours.

And I didn’t text and drive either Ms Sheriff!

Stopped for gas ;p Sorry to have taken up your

time for nothing though :/

Don’t worry about it. Really.

Hate to admit it, but stomping around

like I knew everything was kinda fun.

Felt like being in one of those fancy detective

shows, didn’t it? :D Wish we could solve all

our crimes in an hour :|

Don’t we all.

After that first phone call there were other calls.

Somebody called to bitch about paperwork. Somebody called to ask about a better cookie recipe, because the Toll House package one just wasn’t doing the trick. Somebody called because there was nothing good on TV. (When was there ever? Jody didn’t pretend to watch much other than Walking Dead or HGTV anymore.)

Donna called after getting thrown up on while dealing with a drunk and disorderly call on a particularly busy night.

Jody called after catching up on all her damn paperwork, dealing with five different road ice crashes, getting another call about Alex smoking, and was considering just driving off a bridge rather than deal with the headache one more goddamned minute.

She’d pulled over into a park lot so none of her coworkers would spot her complaining on the phone. Wasn’t good form to let your deputies see you doing that. The creeks were up with snow melt, but all the trees were still bare, roads covered in old salt and black ice.

Donna listened, then talked for an hour about last fall’s weird hunting-season incident phone calls. By the end of the call, Jody’s headache was gone. She pretended not to notice that. Or how many times she’d laughed at Donna’s stories. Especially the one about the drunken and very insistent call she’d gotten from someone about a bigfoot sighting. Or the way Jody’d just let her voice linger on the ‘e’ in bye just like Donna had.

Jody finally had to admit that it was a regular thing after she realized they talked on the phone almost three times a week.

She hadn’t talked to another human being this much in years.

So what else do you do for funsies in your spare time?

What spare time you talkin about exactly?

Oh boo :p even our line of work gets a spare minute

or two! Have to say I haven’t done much lately but

catch up on all the novels I missed these last few

years. Do you like mysteries?

I love mysteries. Especially stupid murder mysteries.

They never get old.

I’ve had that new one by Lindsey Faye by my bed for

weeks now and haven’t made it past page one.

Oh you’ve got to read this one then! By Kate

Morton? You’ll just love her, if you haven’t

read any of hers before. She’s written several.

I’ll mail this one to ya after I finish it. Two

chapters left and I’ve got to wait for tomorrow! >:(

#supernatural #dodio #femslash february #fanfic #jody mills #donna hanscum #My writing #i do hope the texts aren't too confusing here

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