#To just go to get my teeth cleaned and fixed without comment?

[dangerous-disposition]

They should invent a type of dentist who shuts the fuck up and does their fucking overpriced job without comment.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[multifandomficsx]

Nowhere to Hide (Hotch x fem!reader) -- Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love on the first part of Nowhere to Hide. I haven’t felt inspired to write in a long time and I’m so excited for what's to come. I know ya’ll are gonna love it!

Summary: The BAU has officially just arrived, and you couldn’t be more grateful for their help. But even with their expertise, the unsub is still managing to evade any type of detection. He’s calculated, you’ll give him that. It isn’t until you get a new piece of evidence, that shakes you to your core, that you finally have a major breakthrough in the case. 

W.C. 4.2k

Content Warnings: Strong language, discussions of stalking, flirting if you squint really hard

“ Fuck! Fuck Fuck Fuck!” You screamed as you banged your hands against your steering wheel. The pop and the sound of metal hitting the pavement was enough to let you know that you had blown a flat tire. This was not the day to be late, the Behavioral Analysis Unit was to be at the station any minute now, the last thing you wanted was to make an unprofessional impression on them. 

This is just great, you thought as you reached for your insurance and triple A card in the glove compartment. Nothing could get worse, just your luck. The phone call with Triple A took thirty minutes too long and now you’re waiting outside of your car waiting for someone to fix your flat. You had already called ahead to tell them you’d be late getting into the office and to let you know if the BAU shows up before you get there. 

Another 15 minutes had passed before your tire had been fixed, not without a comment from the auto mechanic mumbling something about how you should have a spare in your trunk. With this hour-long detour over and done with you finally get to where you need to be. 

The minute you step foot in the building the secretary hurries up to you. 

“Good morning, detective (y/n). Glad to see you made it safely.” She smiles warmly at you, clutching a manilla envelope to her chest. 

“Thank you, Kate. When is the BAU supposed to arrive?” You ask, walking towards your office. As you walk to the office, you notice the door open. You hadn’t left that open last night, had you? No, you couldn’t have, you make it a point to shut and lock your door before heading out for the night. 

Kate’s mouth pursed and she fell behind you in step, “ Um, they’re already here.” 

She warned you too late, because as you push the ajar office door, there the entire team stood, their discussion lulled to a silence as you entered the room. They already had their own victim board set up, a skinny boy standing in front of it, pen in mouth. Files were spread out on the coffee table in front of the sofa in an unorganized fashion, with two agents mulling over them. You immediately recognized Agents Hotchner and Rossi as they stood by your desk and were the first to notice you enter the room. The only two without their heads in their work. 

Your eyes locked with the stoic Unit Chief. The first thought that crossed your mind was that he could get away with loosening up his tie a bit. The second came from the baby profiler in you, when you noticed that no one else was in a clean pressed suit like he was, professional, no nonsense, a stickler for the rules. Not that that was a bad thing, maybe it was your subconscious telling you to back off before you even started. 

“This was delivered here addressed to you” Kate said sheepishly before handing you the envelope she had been carrying. 

“Thank you, Kate. That’ll be all.” You said through a gritted teeth smile, trying and failing to hide how embarrassed you were at this present moment. 

You instantly snap back into the professionalism you were known for, as you close the door behind the secretary. You took a deep breath because despite the morning you had, you were going to turn this day around. 

“Good morning everyone, I want to apologize for my lateness and for any inconvenience it may have caused you,” You moved your hand back and forth slightly, “ car troubles.”

“Not a problem detective, this is SSA Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, Doctor Reid, and our liaison JJ.” Hotch introduced, he looks the same, a little older, but not in a bad way. An added wrinkle or two wasn’t a problem for you. 

“(Y/N) it’s good to see you again. This position is treating you nicely.” Rossi said, taking your hand and shaking it with a smile, like he was an old friend. 

You laughed dryly, “ Laying on the thick Italian charm I see. It’s nice to finally meet you all. I would like to get started as soon as possible to avoid any further delay.” 

Everyone agreed in their own way whether it was verbal or just a curt nod and immediately got back to going over the information you had provided them earlier and throwing out theories as to what type of person they think the unsub could be. You drop the envelope, handed to you by your secretary on the right side of your desk before sitting in your chair. As you dug through the filing cabinet, grabbing your pile of notes, Rossi had leaned over to take a look at the envelope. 

“ I’m going to assume this isn’t important, since you're not opening it.” He said, lightly placing his hand over the envelope. His tone suggested something different, like he had a feeling it wasn’t nothing. 

This had caught the attention of Hotch, not surprisingly since he was maybe standing a foot away. He had played it cool though his body didn’t shift, only his eyes scanning over the scene happening in front of him. 

“Definitely not important right now, I was supposed to receive copies of the finished case file last week so I can sign off on them. This is probably it.” You shrugged, turning your attention away from the notes over to Rossi, and briefly Hotch, who you had just caught eavesdropping on the conversation. 

Rossi squinted his eyes ever so slightly, taking you for your word, but clearly wasn’t quite convinced. You on the other hand had no other reason to believe it was anything other than the paperwork you had been waiting on, but that paperwork didn’t take precedence over what was happening in the room, you could handle it once you got a minute to yourself. This was far more important. 

For the next thirty minutes, the group of agents in front of you bounced theories back and forth. You all had established that the unsub, was in his mid to late 30’s, white, and was either in a minimum wage position or had been recently unemployed due to the type of low risk women he chose as his victims. The notes left behind were just as puzzling to the team as they were to you. They seemed to have no connection to anything, you were missing a key piece of the jigsaw. 

“ Guys, what if he’s stalking these women. In our assessment, we implied that he had a connection with these girls. But what if the connection is the one in his head?” Spencer jumped in. 

“ That would make sense, there is no overlap between the two victims and with the amount of overkill it indicates emotional motivation. Perhaps rage that he goes unnoticed despite all of his efforts.” Prentiss added. 

“True, but usually stalkers don’t kill the object of their affection until there is no other choice and that’s when they meet them face to face and get a rejection.” Morgan argued back, “I’m not saying you're wrong but we know how these kinds of unsubs operate. He’d have to be moving on very fast to escalate that quickly.”

“I have to agree with Agent Morgan,” you spoke for the first time in a while and everyone’s heads turned to you. You didn’t know if you were stepping over your boundaries here, since this was technically a federal case. Clearing your throat, you continued, “If anything these women are surrogates for his real object of affection. My theory is that he goes on a date, in his eyes the date is going well and they’re both having a good time. But to these girls, he is off putting and his mannerisms jarring, like something isn’t quite right about him. He’s not a charmer, in fact he might be very awkward around the opposite sex.” You get up and look at the pictures of the outside of the homes. “ At both of the scenes, there was no forced entry, which means he knew their routines well enough to know when the back door of their homes was unlocked. I think, after the date, he would watch them, see what they were doing with their time and he’s wondering why they hadn’t called or texted him after the date. If they had so much free time, why can’t they spare a minute for him? That’s what sets him off, you profiled that he felt unseen in the workplace, perhaps his boss is a woman and his stressor was a coworker getting a promotion over him or a firing. Both ways he feels unappreciated. He snaps the minute these girls pay him no mind and does this.” You say gesturing to the pictures of the aftermath of what the unsub leaves behind. 

You could have sworn you saw Hotch smirk out of the corner of your eye as you turned away from the white board towards the rest of the group.

“If that’s the case, we need to head to the crime scenes. Reid and Prentiss, stay here and comb through murders from the past six months, he’s sophisticated, he’s killed before, not on this level but he’s had his practice. Rossi and Morgan, I want you to go to the first crime scene, see if anything was missed. I’ll head to the newest crime scene as well.” Hotch ordered and quickly the team went their separate ways leaving you and hotch in your office.

You assumed you weren’t needed so you settled back into your desk chair to get back to your work. You were about to open up the envelope given to you this morning but was quickly interrupted. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hotch asked as he picked up his items getting ready to leave.

“Um, doing my work?” You questioned back looking up at him with furrowed brows. 

“Are you not coming with me to the second crime scene?” 

You were stunned, you couldn’t believe you were getting asked to accompany the FBI even though you had done all the heavy lifting of the case from the start. 

“Do all detectives get this extended invitation?” You asked playing a bit, to cover up the fact that you were excited to help. 

“I figured you were the type to get in on the action. Plus you know the most about this case, we- I could use your insight.” Even though there was an intensity in his expression, the way his eyes softened was not lost on you. If you weren’t careful you could see yourself drowning in the deep browns. 

You tore away your eye contact and swiftly stood up. Not without banging your thighs into the top of your desk. You suck in a breath through your teeth and walk off the sting. The broad shouldered agent standing at the door said nothing, but absolutely stifled any kind of amusement he just got from watching you. You thanked him in your head for pretending nothing happened. 

The apricity of the sunny day hit your back as you walked to the car and suddenly you were relieved at your decision to not grab your jacket from the office. With the way you got up in a hurry, you didn’t even think about it, it was only May in Baltimore so it was still light jacket season. 

You slipped into the passenger seat of the black four door SUV, waiting for Hotch who somehow was still lingering inside. Chewing at your cheek, you pulled out your phone and started answering missed text messages that you’ve left unanswered for days. This case was taking up all of your time and you had started to feel guilty for not reaching out to your friends and loved ones as often as you usually would. They understood though, you’ve always been like this, caught up in your work. 

Finally finishing up your last text, the passenger door opened, jolting you out of the tunnel like concentration on your phone.

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want me to drive?” You asked, seeing the man you were waiting on standing there. 

“No. Coffee?” The delivery was awkward. A man of few words, you see. However there are two cups of coffee in his hands, one of them outstretched to you. 

“Yes, thank you.” You said, snatching the paper cup out of his hand. 

He nodded before closing the door and climbing onto his own side of the vehicle. The car ride to the crime scene was quiet besides the dull drone of the radio, barely audible but you could have sworn you could hear The End by The Doors playing. 

You took small sips of the black coffee, trying to run through all the details of everything discussed in your office a few moments ago. You’re hoping a revisit to the crime scene with fresh eyes on it will at least reveal something. It appeared that they were almost ready to give the profile and you were confident you had pinned down exactly the type of person this was. The only thing was you hadn’t nailed down the geographical profile or those goddamn numbers left at the scenes. Luckily the media hasn’t caught on yet or else you’d have an even bigger problem on your hands. 

Hotch swung the car into the driveway, pulling you out of your head and back into reality. Before exiting the car he turned to you.

“ Good job back at the precinct. The BAU lectures seemed to pay off.” He said, his brows knitted together slightly, like he was struggling to give a compliment. 

“ Thank you. I guess I learned from the best.” You said with a cheeky grin. Okay, that was corny. Hopefully he doesn’t catch that, how could he not, you couldn’t have said that any plainer. 

“ If you’re hoping to use flattery to get yourself into the BAU, you’re sorely mistaken.” Did he just joke with you? The famously uptight Aaron Hotchner, making a joke? This almost caught you off guard and stammered your way through an apology, but your mouth moves faster than your brain. 

“ I meant Agent Rossi.” And with that you got out of the car, leaving him to his own devices. 

It was his turn to be taken aback. He definitely wasn’t expecting a quip back, especially not from someone he barely knew. He blinked a couple times and followed you out. Before heading inside of the house, you walked around the street area looking for anything that would give away that someone had been here for an extended period of time. And then you saw it, it was subtle but it was there. 

“Hotch! Come here!” You called out to him and he quickly jogged over to you, “ There’s oil here and from the looks of it, it’s from multiple sittings, there are multiple layers, the outer ring dried more than the ones on top of it, and the newest one is no more than two days old. That tracks with the timeline, he was sitting out here waiting for her to be alone. There’s also match ends scattered in the grass here.” 

“Good catch. Let’s head inside.” He put his hand on your shoulder, but quickly removed it and backed off to head for the house. He barely knew you, what was he doing? You froze, trying not to over think the gesture as you watched him walk away. 

You shook it off and picked up your pace to catch up to him, which was not easy, learning that he had a long stride. 

Heading back to the crime scene didn’t garner any new information, if anything Hotch was regurgitating everything you already knew and it was getting on your nerves. You knew it was just him going over everything for continuity's sake, but you were really hoping to get some new information instead of just confirming everything you already knew. 

Frustrated, after an hour of what seemed like nothing, Hotch received a call from Agent Morgan, reaffirming the stalking aspect, they had found dried oil rings outside of the first house a few hundred feet away and matches in the grass. 

“Great work, you two. Head back to the precinct and we’ll meet you there.”

Back at the precinct Prentiss and Reid were still hunched over files, Reid with a map in front of him attempting to draw up a geographical profile. Rossi and Morgan had beaten the two of us here. Morgan reached into his pocket grabbing for the ringing phone buried deep. 

“Hey there, baby girl, what do you have for us? Be nice, you’re on speaker.” 

“ Okay, my beautiful crime fighters, I have combed through emails, phone records, and the dark terrifying corners of the internet where creeps like to dwell, but so far? Our guy is a digital ghost. There is one thing that piqued my interest and that was a dating profile that both Meridith and Sarah had contact with. Typical behavior, faceless profile and the conversations deleted. I can’t seem to track him, he is most likely using a VPN and changing his IP address.” Garcia rambles, clearly upset that her technical skills couldn’t breach the wall of precautions the unsub had set up.

“ Well can you break down the VPN?” Hotch asked.

“ I can but that’ll take time that we don’t have.” You could hear the wildly fast tapping of her keyboard in the background of the call. 

“ He’s careful. He knows how to cover his tracks. That suggests a certain level of technical proficiency. We should look at IT workers and maybe even law enforcement or someone with military experience,” Reid followed up, leaning forward in his seat, lifting his eyes from the map for the first time since you’ve walked in. 

“ Or he’s getting help. Someone who knows how to erase footprints.” Prentiss added, with her arms crossed. 

Morgan stepped in to argue his point, “I don’t think so. This type of guy wants to believe he is an alpha male. He wouldn’t accept or even want help from anyone else. Garcia, what about surveillance footage? It’s hard to believe two single women living alone didn’t install a camera somewhere around the house. Maybe he slipped up and got caught on camera.” 

“Way ahead of you, my chocolate adonis.” You look perplexed at the casual workplace inappropriate nickname and Rossi gave you a look that said don’t even ask about it. “ Now Sarah didn’t have anything set up, but Meredith had a ring camera…. And there! We have a hooded and masked person walking up to the house on the night of her murder. Sending you the video now.” 

You quickly moved to turn your computer around to face the majority of the room and pressed play on the video. Grainy security footage played, showing the unsub walk towards the house, head down. With the hood and the mask, none of his face was revealed. 

“ He knew where the camera was. Definitely not an amateur.” This came from Rossi who had been silent up until this point. 

“ Can you enhance that, Garcia?” Hotch asked

“ You wound me, glorious leader. Do you think I, the goddess of all things cyber, would let a little thing like bad resolution stop me? Enhancing now…” With a few keystrokes, a progress bar loading - then, an image sharpens. He was carrying a piece of paper into the home, with the number 6. So the note is preplanned and brought into the house before the murder even takes place. This whole thing is planned and that detail was enough to make your stomach drop. If it wasn’t clear beforehand, it was now that this was a game to the unsub, he was without a doubt trying to get someone’s attention, whether that was the police, the media, or someone else entirely, you still had no clue. 

“Thank you Garcia, call us with anything else you find.” Morgan finished.

“Garcia out!” 

The day has come to an end and once again you find yourself with your lamp on at your desk, hunched over your notes. Most of the BAU had left for their hotel rooms for the night, there was still one person who lingered. Hotch. And there he was sitting on the couch with his sleeve rolled up, the most relaxed you had seen him all day. Which wasn’t that relaxed considering his tie was still on and the white shirt was buttoned all the way up. 

The way the lamp lit him up had you in a trance-like state. He was leaned over, forearms on his lap as he glared at the files in front of him on the glass table. The light accented the strength in his arms and shoulders, casting shadows in the right places. Not to mention the way it softened the harsh features of his face. Highlighting his profile in a way that had you noticing everything. His jawline, tight lips, you hadn’t registered how big his nose was until now.  

After what appeared like an eternity, he cleared his throat. You’d been caught. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his voice deepened by the strain of the hours worked. 

“Ahh, yeah. I’m fine. I think I dissociated for a little bit. Fully just blanked out.” A lie. What were you supposed to do, tell him you were practically memorizing his facial features? 

“ You know, you can head out whenever you want. This is your office, if you want to go home you can kick me out.” He said, closing up the file in front of him. 

“I don't know, Agent Hotchner. It sounds like you want to leave, you’re just waiting for an excuse. I still have things to do.” You say waving the envelope that has been sitting on your desk for the greater half of the day, untouched. 

He raised an eyebrow and reluctantly stood up, “ I’ll take you up on that offer.”

As he got ready to leave, you opened up the envelope, not paying attention to the contents but to Aaron slowly rolling down his sleeves and rebuttoning them. You didn’t know a simple act like that could have been so attractive. You pause, no. It’s just late and the lighting is doing something. Besides it’s inappropriate conduct to be thinking these thoughts about someone who is ten times your superior, not to mention he’s over ten years older than you. 

You smile softly before looking down at your desk, that smile disappears as quickly as it came. You froze, your heart pounding. You hand shook as it hovered over the contents of the envelope that had been “delivered” for you this morning. Rossi knew something was off and you should have too. It was unmarked with nothing but your name. Your breath had seemingly been knocked out of your chest because you had gasped for air after what was a minute of holding it. 

“Have a good night detective (Y/N)” Aaron said heading out for the night but paused at the door frame when he didn’t hear you say anything. Instead he saw you unmoving, and wide eyed staring at your desk. 

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” His voice laced with concern, neither of you noticed the informal calling of your name. 

His tone tore your eyes from the desk. “I think I know who the object of the unsubs affections is.” 

He walked over, his eyes scanning the items scattered on your desk. Pictures upon pictures of you, taken at work, out in the field, out with friends, and at home. Along with a note that you hadn’t even read yet. Aaron quickly scooped up the pictures and notes, not even thinking about getting his prints over the evidence and removed them from your sight. Not that it would matter, from the way you were staring they had been burned into your memory. 

He places them face down on the coffee table and rushes out of the room. You don’t move, you feel like you're stuck in molasses, none of your limbs move. Everything is moving slow and yet so fast at the same time. Your mind races and your breath quickens. You had begged for this, last night you had practically prayed for a new piece of evidence to appear on your desk the next day. And here it was, but it was something you weren’t ready for. For the first time in your career, fear coursed through your veins. You force yourself to close your eyes and try to take deeper breaths to stop you from fully freaking out. Hotch came back almost as soon as he left, with a hot tea and phone in hand. 

“ Drink this, take some deep breaths. Do not leave the premises, I need to make a few calls.”

[draculasintern]

Odds and Additions..

Im gonna be SO fr rn.. Im getting merked by finals and classes. It was a miracle I could even think of writing this. This one my might be shorter than the others because Im burning out..Btw Im not doing anything special in this like blocking off where scenes end cause woop de doo Im TIRED.

Pt. 6

The morning after felt like waking up mid-sentence.

No clean slate. No reset. Just the weight of unsaid things settling heavier on your shoulders than your coat.

You didn’t speak to Viktor. He didn’t speak to you. But the silence had changed again—no longer just cold, no longer just sharp. It was suspicious. Like you’d both left something open on the operating table the night before and now neither of you wanted to look too closely at it in the light.

He arrived earlier than usual. You arrived later.

Whether that was intentional or not, neither of you said. Though you really didn’t feel like coming in today.

The machines had barely warmed up before the lab door opened again.

Councilor Mel. Golden, measured, and smiling like someone who never lost sleep over blueprints. But she wasn’t alone.

The Dean was with her this time, sleeves rolled to his forearms, eyes scanning the room not for people—but for purpose. His presence was different now. More restless. As if the clock ticking over your heads was no longer metaphorical.

“I’ve seen the numbers,” he said without preamble, voice even but heavy with expectation. “And I’ve seen the competition. What I haven’t seen yet... is vision. Or collaboration.”

His gaze flicked between you and Viktor, sharp enough to make the floor feel uneven.

“I asked for something that would help the people. Not a game of academic one-upmanship. Do you two think Piltover runs on pride?” Which it kind of did..

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Mel gave a slight shake of her head, as if to say be careful now—but didn’t interrupt.

“You’ll be presenting something viable in two weeks. One design. One solution. I don’t care whose name is on it.”

His eyes lingered on both of you, jaw tight.

“Either figure out how to work together, or don’t bother submitting anything at all.”

Then he turned and left.

And just like that, the countdown had begun again.

But this time, it wasn’t about who broke first.

It was about whether either of you could stand to build something... together.

You didn’t sit down right away.

The Dean’s words were still suspended in the air like smoke—smothering, clinging to everything. You stood there a moment too long, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the blueprint Viktor had abandoned halfway through last night. The same one you’d memorized without meaning to. The same one you’d rewritten in your head a dozen different ways while telling yourself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t matter.

Across the room, Viktor didn’t look up. His posture hadn’t changed, but something in the way he held his pen said he wasn’t drawing—he was waiting. Listening. Just like always.

You sat.

Not because it was an olive branch. But because the Dean had thrown down a gauntlet, and neither of you would let it go untouched.

The quiet stretched again, taut as wire. It wasn’t collaboration. Not yet. It was detente. An agreement not to set the place on fire while the council still had matches in hand.

Eventually, Viktor spoke. A single word, quiet, without any real shape to it.

“Fine.”

You didn’t look at him.

“Fine,” you echoed, the word tasting more like defeat than agreement.

Neither of you said what you really meant: Let’s do this, but don’t think for a second I’ve forgiven you for your selfish ways.

Let’s build this thing, but not with trust.

Not with hope.

Just teeth. Just nails. Just the slow, grinding pressure of two minds refusing to back down.

You reached for a clean sheet of paper, not even bothering to hide the tremor in your fingers. If he noticed, he didn’t comment.

He just pulled his own notes closer.

And together—almost— you began. The hours passed like sand through cracked glass. Slow. Uneven. Inevitable.

You spoke only when necessary. Pointed questions. Sharpened answers. No softness. No detours. The kind of conversation built from stone and splinters—functional, but jagged. Viktor didn’t look at you unless he had to, and you returned the favor like it was law.

Still, something shifted.

It wasn’t trust. Barely even respect.

It was acknowledgment. A quiet, begrudging recognition that two sharp edges could cut cleaner if aligned.

You handed him a draft, wordlessly. He didn’t comment on the linework, though you knew he saw the improvement. Saw the part you’d borrowed from his design—and the part you’d fixed. He only nodded, barely, and adjusted a single angle before passing it back.

That was the rhythm of it: offer, accept, revise. Like passing a blade between you, testing who would flinch first. Neither of you did.

By nightfall, the shared blueprint was more real than it had ever been. No longer his. No longer yours.

Just something alive between you.

You didn’t know whether to be proud or afraid.

Then Viktor spoke again—quiet, like the dark had dulled the edge of his voice.

“This might actually work.”

You didn’t look up.

“I know.”

And that was it.

No praise. No warmth.

But the silence that followed didn’t feel quite so weaponized.

It was still cold.

But not...cruel.

OKay all done. Ik this was rushed and not the best work but its still something. Eat up or starve. /j

[tinytennisskirt]

A Chaotic Reunion: Part Two

Part 2 Summary: A continuation (find the first part here). ChildhoodBest friend!Art visits the reader's gallery before it opens and asks reader on a date only to have it ruined by Patrick, who is going through something. Things are unconventional, but Art still ends up in the reader's bed by the end...

Warnings: Patrick being suggestive, drunk Patrick, (touching, kissing with Art)

You woke up earlier than usual, nerves, somehow waking you before the alarm. But you used your time wisely. You showered with the good soaps and sprayed your perfume fresh out of the steam. You got ready, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup. You got dressed in your regular business casual work clothes, style, but comfort first.

Julie was up and chatting like she didn't get home and crash on her carpet before you and your other roommate saw and pulled her into her bed. She had a miraculous luck that never let her be hungover the next day, you joked that she was the drinking messiah.

“You’re heading in early?” She asked, passing you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with cucumbers on the side for breakfast. Not the usual, but it was fun enough.

“Yes, I have a friend coming to see the art and I thought he would like it better if it was just us. Without me having to tend to the potential buyers who you know can be a pain in the ass." You told her. Your other room main Shailene hummed.

“That guy from last night?” She grinned.

“There was a guy?”

You chuckled, “Yes. An old friend though, genuinely. From childhood. His name is Art, he’s a… tennis player in town for a tournament, I think."

“Art Donaldson,” Julie said. It didn’t sound like a question.

“Yeah?” you said, surprised. “How did you know that?”

She looked disbelieving, “The only Art in tennis I know is Art Donaldson, no way that’s your childhood friend- he’s hot, Y/N. He’s mega-hot, no way.” Shailene laughed from the kitchen as you ate your food.

“He is mega-hot, Y/N,” she chimed in. “He was totally eyeing you down too, I saw from when I was approaching that man was down bad.”

“He was not,” you laughed. He might have been. Your boobs comment from the night before rang out in your brain and so did how he reacted. Hmm… maybe he was, but not majorly. You weren't ugly, you couldn't rule it out entirely. “But I’m showing him the gallery is all.”

“Mhm,” Shailene hummed again.

“Okay, shhhh,” you said, setting dishes aside and going to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You heard the girls out in the living room whispering about looking up his tennis highlights. You shook your head- you’d gone to sleep last night watching those. “See you later!” You called to them as you spun out the door. Best to avoid more interrogation and just let the morning unfold.

You drove over and opened as usual, keeping the sign on the door saying closed. You ensured everything was tidy and clean and just as beautiful and colourful as the days before. You went through a few gallery emails, replying and sending. And on time, there was a knock at the door. You fixed the sleeves on the black long-sleeve shirt and adjusted the square neckline dip as you walked over to unlock the door.

“Hey,” he said. He had two coffees in hand, iced coffee. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you answered with a smile. He smiled right back and extended you an iced coffee. You were glad it was iced, hot coffee on a warm morning would just feel too corporate. And gross. “Thank you! You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not bringing nothing for the woman giving me a private tour of her gallery. Plus, I need it after last night," he said. You moved out of the way so he could come in. His eyes widened as he met the colourful surroundings of the gallery. “Wow- this is amazing.”

“My team and I hand-pick everything,” he spun and looked at you. You put a hand to your forehead, “I’m in work mode. My friends, my roommates and I we pick the art. We went with a theme of colour because we thought it is one of the most universal things about art is that there is colour. Sometimes shade, but when you think art, you think colour.” You gestured to everything. “An ode to that.”

He listened to you intently and walked with you as you showed him the gallery, piece by piece explaining things. He would joke, you’d joke back, and the banter was sweet and easy. You caught up on life, more. Talked parents and school and local town things. You sat on a bench overlooking one of your biggest pieces. “It’s nice to speak to someone not so involved in tennis.” He said, looking over at you.

“I was thinking I didn’t bring it up enough,” you replied, eating the ice out of your finished coffee. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he nodded. He turned more your way so that your knees touched. “Everyone in my life talks about tennis more than their own children, family, accomplishments. Even I talk about it too much. You and the art here- it’s been good to hear about something like this.”

“I’m glad the gallery could be your escape,” you said. “And I’m happy you like it and I will GLADLY speak about anything other than tennis because I know nothing other than hitting a ball back and forth.”

He laughed, “Perfect. That’s all you need to know.”

“Oh phew,” you sighed. It was nearing opening, you heard your roommates come in downstairs. His head turned. “I’m glad you came to see it though. Escape or no escape.”

“Me too. It’s really impressive what you have here for yourself. And it’s been great seeing you, everything you’re doing is amazing and beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes met his, blue with bits of brown, those long eyelashes. “I wasn’t even sure what I was doing was worthwhile.”

“Probably more than,” he replied. “This gallery is amazing and you're doing it with your friends? Most people can't say they love what they do let alone that they do it with people they like and actually know. I'm jealous, honestly. But I know you open soon, so I should probably be on my way... Do you get off at nine?

“Most days,” you replied. “I can leave a bit earlier today since I started and did the opening process an hour before we opened. And thank you. I needed to hear something like that."

“Always." He said, standing. You stood with him, taking a second to toss your empty cup into the nearby bin. "-And perfect- I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner? Late… dinner. With me.” He asked, hands shoving themselves into his pockets. Your eyes widened a bit. Was he asking you out? “Is there a local place maybe? I’d love to be shown around a bit more if you have the time.”

“Of course- I-“ you fought a wide grin. “I’d love that. There’s a little Italian place just a few doors down from here or there’s an Indian place two blocks from here… or the sushi place a bit closer to my apartment. They’re all open late.”

“Sushi sounds good,” he said, standing up. “So do I call the number on the business card when I pick you up here at 8:10?” He flipped the card between his fingers.

You chuckled. He would pick you up? From work? That was his plan… “Oh, here- you grabbed the card from him, took the pen from your belt loop, and scribbled your number out for him. He grinned his crooked grin and your heart fluttered just a bit. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said. You both headed down the stairs of the gallery, past your friends who were doing a bit of near-afternoon filing. “I’ll call. Thank you for this, I think I needed it and I will for sure be back.”

“Sounds perfect,” you echoed. “See you later.”

He kissed you on the cheek before saying goodbye and exiting out the front. You turned around and the second he was no longer able to hear, both Julie and Shailene squealed. “The cheek kiss? So cute!” Shailene said, raising her hands above her head. “He so wants you, I honestly wouldn’t have minded if you two went at it against the Rosenthal in the corner.”

“That’s enough,” you smiled.

“Is it?” Julie asked. “Not so much as a kiss?”

“It’s 11am!” You said. “Who kisses someone at 11am? Besides it’s a bit different, we have so much history. Childhood together versus now, I think I’m having trouble not seeing the little blonde boy who would burp for a laugh." That wasn’t true, that image faded last night as you dreamt about him. There was no more little boy in Art.

“Okay, but what was that ‘see you later’ business?” Shailene asked.

“He asked me to dinner,” you started. Both girls opened their mouths to speak. “It’s probably friendly! I have no idea what his intentions are. He said he’d pick me up at 8:10, if I can get off early tonight- is that okay with you guys?”

“More than,” Julie squealed. “I’ll stay at my boyfriend’s tonight, Shai, you can come with me if you want? I have clothes you can wear there.”

“Hold on-“

“He’d be fine with that?” She asked Julie. Julie nodded excitedly.

“Perfect,” Julie said.

“I’m not bringing him back to the apartment!” You said. These girls were too forward sometimes. “We're just catching up."

“That’s what the early opening was for? That’s what dinner is for?” Julie stated, as if it was common sense. “Shai and I are more than happy to get out for a night. You deserve some good sex.”

“How would you even know if he’s-“

“He’s a tennis player! There’s gotta be some force there.” She continued. “You can run home on lunch break and get one of my dresses if you like. Or anything. Just don’t wear work clothes, you won’t be able to let loose that way.”

You nodded. Shailene grinned. “Maybe wear that midi-dress with the slit up the thigh. Ooh, with the red mary-janes!”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “Okay, okay. I’ll go on lunch.”

“I’m so excited for you!” Julie clapped. It was a matter of getting through the day. All day, you three talked about him and your childhood, what drove you two apart, etcetera. At lunch you went home and grabbed the clothes and some of your makeup to touch up on. You worked the rest of the day with a few buyers coming in. It neared 8 and the girls were still just as excited.

Your phone rang. “Is that him?” You asked? You were in the bathroom in a spare moment just getting changed and touching up.

“It’s him!” Shailene ran your phone to you. You smiled and picked up.

“Hey,” you said.

“Uh- hey-“ he sounded preoccupied, you could hear he was in the car. “So I really was looking forward to dinner with you, but my best friend is going through something right now and he is inconsolable in the manly way, which if you know what that’s like, he might be a bit out of control.”

He was cancelling? You shut the door to the bathroom. “That’s okay, I understand. Are you cancelling?”

“I don’t really want to, so if you’re fine to meet a friend, I would love to see you still. I just can’t leave him alone, you know?” He said. “I am so sorry, Y/N. This is the opposite of what I wanted for tonight and I completely understand if you would rather it be just us. We can reschedule."

You shook your head as if he could see, “No, that’s so admirable that you’re keeping him close. Don’t be sorry whatsoever, I promise it’s okay. And if you don’t want to cancel, I’m still free.”

“You promise it’s okay?” He asked. “I am so so sorry I would usually never do this, I promise I will make it up to you.”

You laughed, “It’s endearing! I don’t mind. He’s okay though?”

“He’s okay but on a level where I’m not sure what he’d do if I wasn’t around,” he replied. “I’m picking him up right now, I’ll be there in ten if you still want me?” Of course, you did. It was unconventional, but it was okay.

“Sounds good,” you replied. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

He chuckled, “I’ll try. See you soon.”

You said goodbyes and hung up. You I immediately updated your girls on the situation and they were disappointed but were sure it would still be good. And soon enough, Art’s car pulled up outside and thank god, his friend wasn’t in the front seat. You waved goodbye to your friends, grabbed your purse, and left, getting into the car. It was nice, clean.

“Hey, you look-“ he started, “Wow.”

“I didn’t want to wear work clothes out or I’d feel like I was still at work,” you told him. You turned in your seat to face another man. He seemed tall, with dark curls, and a bit of facial hair. You recognized him as Art’s tennis partner.

“Patrick,” he said, giving you his hand to shake. You shook it, he smiled.

“Oh, I know,” you grinned. “I’m Y/N- wow, two tennis stars in one car.”

“Okay, as if.” Art said, putting the car in drive again. “No tennis talk, for both mine and Patrick’s sake.”

“Done,” you said. “I don’t have enough tennis content in my head to remark on anything anyways. So the sushi place is just by my apartment, if you take a right up here, then pass two streets and a left, then you’re there.”

“Perfect,” Art said. “How was work?”

“Not too busy today, we had one of our regular buyers in today and sold two pieces to him, but the rest was marketing, emails, and planning for a gallery event.”

“What kind of event?” Patrick asked from the backseat. You half-expected him to stay quiet from the greeting that was just his name.

“Oh, it’s a bit of a sale where the proceeds go to a local children’s hospital for funding,” you told him. “Every year me and my coworkers put it on and it’s usually pretty successful.”

“That’s impressive,” Art said.

“And considerate,” Patrick added. “You’re big on charity?”

“When I can be,” you replied, and you turned back to Art. “The event is in a few weeks, lots of shrimp, so if you want to come just let me know.” Art looked over at you with a soft smile.

“I’d like that,” he replied, seemingly happy that you’d invited him. You smiled back. “You’ll have to send the details.”

“I will for sure,” you told him. You got to the place in no time and Art parked the car. “This is it. It’s a cute place, open late, I can’t tell you how many times me and my roommate have had a random craving at 1am and came down for sushi. That’s my building right over there.” You pointed across the street.

Art looked over, getting out of the car, then back to you, eyes lingering on your dress. “They’re open that late?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And the sushi is amazing.”

Patrick got out of the car and rose to be about as tall as you imagined. He was a bigger guy than you had observed from the dark of the back of the car. More muscle mass to his body, visible in his t-shirt and cargo shorts. “I’m starved.” Is all he said. You looked at Art and he mouthed another ‘I’m sorry’ and you laughed quietly, hitting him gently in the arm.

You all headed in, got a table, and started ordering immediately. Patrick wondered what the Japanese alcohol was like and ordered some for the table. You didn’t feel much like drinking, but it was headed to the table anyway. You and Art filled Patrick in on all the details of the games you played as kids and he took pleasure in teasing Art about playing the ‘girly’ games.

“Hey, I looked good in the princess shoes,” he said as Patrick reached over and ruffled his blonde hair.

“It’s true. And there was no way I’d let him pretend to be a prince because that meant we would have to kiss, because you know that’s what princesses and princes do,” you said. Patrick chuckled. "- And he rocked the crown and dress as well.”

“A crown and a dress? You were her bitch at age nine?” He laughed at Art, who pretended to hide his face. “I’m impressed, but I’m not surprised. I mean look at her now. Big-time gallerist who runs charity events.”

You pretended that didn’t land as if it was flattery, blinking it off. Art raised his head. You ate another California roll.

“Yeah,” Art said. “It’s not like she didn’t play guns with me.”

“If you ended up a princess and she ended up with a toy gun, that’s a bit telling.” Patrick added. He poured himself a bit of the drink he’d ordered for the table. It was more than a cup.

“He was a bit under my thumb… I was a bossy child,” you joked. Art nodded and smiled. Patrick downed his drink. “I’m not so bossy now.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Patrick grinned a wide grin and part of it was suggestive.

“Is it?” You questioned.

“I’d say so. I think Art would agree. Nothing is wrong with a bossy woman as long as it stays-“

“Okay…” Art said, almost dismissive.

“Hm,” you hummed. You tried the drink, but it was bitter, not for you. Patrick picked up that you hated it from the look of disgust and poured your share into his cup. “I’m collaborative, I think. You’d have to ask my friends because now I’m rethinking.”

“Collaborative is okay too, I don’t complain,” Patrick said, drinking more. He had a slight smirk on his face. Art shook his head and looked at you, your mouth stayed a little open from the words you'd just heard. “You know Art told me he ran into you but he didn’t say anything about how gorgeous you are.”

You felt a bit cornered, your cheeks feeling a faint bit of pink just from the situation. Art rubbed his eyes and rested his chin on his fist, pouring himself a little bit of the alcohol and drinking it. “Thank you,” you replied. “I wish I could reply with anything of the sort but I wasn’t expecting anyone else with us tonight.” You tried to laugh it off.

“Okay, Patrick,” Art came in, dismissive again. “Come on.”

“What?” He said, hands up in questioning. “You said dinner with a friend- I didn’t picture someone like her. You can’t tell me she’s not gorgeous.” The bottle was somehow more than half-gone. You weren’t sure what to say.

“She is- but Patrick, please.” He urged him quietly and you pretended not to hear. Patrick was for sure tipsy and was for sure flirting. All you focused on was the ‘she is’.

“Me? Come on? You’re all stiff, Buddy.” Patrick downed another cup you hadn’t even seen him pour. You understood what Art meant by going through it- something was up with him for sure. “Look at her, look-“

“Thank you,” you said again. Art looked at you apologetically. You took back the bottle of alcohol and drank right from it, just a swig. Disgusting but you probably needed it. “And thanks for coming, honestly. It’s been good meeting you.”

“You’re scaring her away, Artie,” Patrick said, ruffling Art’s hair again. Art looked embarrassed, to say the least. The Japanese alcohol was surprisingly strong. You guessed that was why it was so bitter. Patrick must have been well on his way to full drunk if a swig brought a fuzz to your vision for a moment. It passed.

“I think we should get out of here,” you said. Art nodded immediately. He got up faster than you could and went to the counter to pay. You couldn't even object. Your eyes followed him, tracing your eyes over the long-sleeve dark green shirt he was wearing with pants that looked really nice on him. You wondered if that was what he wore to games- it was nice- but looked comfortable. You wished he wasn’t paying.

You looked back at Patrick, who had just finished off the bottle when you weren’t looking. You were in trouble now. “You really are gorgeous. Are you single?”

“Uh- I am, but-“

“I’d love to take you out,” he said. “I’ll ask Art to send me your number.”

“Maybe…”

“Are we done flirting with Y/N?” Art said, coming back with a huff, sliding a card back into his wallet.

“Hardly,” Patrick grinned. You couldn’t help but smile at that response, it was funny. Art helped Patrick up, letting him lean on him. Art’s eyes practically projected an essay of apology. You were watching the alcohol sink in slowly to Patrick, he was getting worse, it seemed. And when you got into the car, Art put the key in the ignition and the car did not roar to life. It sputtered.

“Fuck!” Art exclaimed. “I knew I should have taken her in earlier. I’m sorry, the car has been on its last legs for a month or two now and I was going to get it fixed, but I put it off-“

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand on his upper arm. “Does it need a jump?”

“I’m not even sure if that would save it,” he laughed, almost, but it sounded fake. Patrick’s laugh from the back seat was very real. “Fuck, I’m sorry guys. I’ll call a cab.”

“Do you want to come back to mine?” You asked. “Just across the street, you can crash there if you’d like. My roommates are out tonight.” Might as well make use of the empty apartment.

“Really? I don’t want to impose,” Art said. He looked you dead in the eyes, looking for something genuine in you, almost disbelieving you'd be so kind to take in his fucked up friend.

“I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t what I wanted. It’s probably best we get him somewhere secure fast- he’s had a lot.”

With a nod, you and Art got out of the car and started pulling a drunken Patrick out and over to the apartment. You and Art tried your best to ignore every pass he was making at you, calling you pretty, saying your nicely the colour of the dress went with your skin, talking about the slit of the dress. And you dealt with it all the way up the elevator and as you unlocked the door.

Patrick stumbled in and Art guided him to the couch. “Colourful,” Patrick said, “But bright.”

You dimmed the lights with the dimmer and shut the door behind you. “We keep some art here. Stuff we’ve bought, thrifted, found."

Art took a second to look around. “It’s nice. Really nice,” he said. Patrick sat up on the couch and looked around for a remote. You tossed it to him. “Which room is yours?”

You pointed to the one at the end, “Second biggest room. We drew straws.” You told him. Patrick looked like he had no idea how a remote worked. He put it down and got up, staggered and swaying. You looked at Art and Art looked at Patrick.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked you, dismissing Patrick. You nodded and pulled him to the kitchen just a bit more away from the drunk stranger in your living room. The second you were alone, he put his hands to his head. “I am so sorry about this. It’s one thing to bring your friend out when you ask a girl to dinner, but another to have him off his ass and go back to her apartment because your car decides to kill itself.”

“Art-“

“I know- because you’re kind and you’re sweet and perfect- that you don’t mind, but that doesn’t mean I don’t. You have no idea how sorry I am for all of this, but I promise you I’ll make it up to you.” He said, eyes on yours, his hands on your upper arms the same way they were when you bumped into him. Gentle, soft. “Thank you for this though, I really appreciate you giving us somewhere to go and I swear it won’t happen again.”

“I do promise it’s okay,” you reassured him, fighting the urge to laugh. He was sweet, worried, but sweet. “Thank you for apologizing though it’s not needed. Shows your character.” He smiled a little, but his eyes widened. You felt a hand on your waist, less gentle, less asked for. Not the hand you wanted there...

“Patrick-“

You turned, stepping away from his grasp. You didn’t know what to do or say. “You smell amazing,” he said, slight slur to his words. “Do guys ever tell you that?”

“Not often,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Can’t get the TV to work,” he replied. “But if you have any idea of what we can do instead, I’m all ears.” He was so drunk. Japanese alcohol was a quick fix, apparently.

You slipped past and back into the living room, followed by the men. You could hear Art whispering to Patrick behind you as you grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

ART DONALDSON US OPEN HIGHLIGHTS

In bright white splayed across the top of the screen started playing. You covered your mouth and closed it as fast as you could. You forgot your roommates were watching that this morning- your heart skipped a beat from humiliation.

Fuck. You put on the first thing you saw, some cop comedy movie. You turned it down enough for it to be background noise and Patrick crashed on the couch again. And he was silent.

Art walked over to you, “US OPEN highlights is crazy,” he said quietly, leaning on his arm against the wall you had your back to. “I have better games than that.”

“Mmm, so you saw,” you replied, voice hushed. You felt your cheeks flush just slightly. “My roommates were watching it once they found out you were coming to the gallery early.”

“So they know all about me then. They’re fans,” he said, fake-boasting. You smiled and shook your head. "Sometimes I hate tennis. I can never be mysterious and unknown."

“They think you’re hot mysterious or not. They’re a fan of anyone who is hot. You should have seen how my roommate Shai got about the hot mailman from downstairs- she practically made a fanpage. I swear we had a shrine for him somewhere.” You told him.

“And I don't get a shrine yet,” he laughed. You two kept quiet, leaning against the wall behind the couch. Patrick stayed quiet.

“Tennis player is somewhere high on Shailene’s list, I’m sure I could set you up,” you shrugged.

“What, that’s crazy. You don’t think I’m hot?” He teased. “Is it the crooked smile? I’ve been told it’s crooked.”

“Nobody hates the crooked smile, I promise.” You told him. And that exact crooked smile crept up his face. You smiled back. “I think it’s quite nice.” You added.

“Oh just nice, hm. That’s like me saying you look good.”

“Do I not?” You prodded. “And I said ‘quite’ nice.”

“No, no, you look quite good,” he replied. You smiled and hit him in the arm playfully. “I hate saying it because I know Patrick beat me to it, drunk and all, but you do look gorgeous. And I’m sorry it wasn’t just us tonight.”

“I know you’re sorry, but it’s not the end of the world. You are allowed to stop being sorry, I swear it’s okay,” you replied. Patrick coughed loudly. “Here, come in-“ you stepped into your room and turned on the lowlight lamp in the corner, casting dull orangey light around your room. You sat on your knees on your bed and he sat with you. “My room.”

He shut the door and looked around. And he was gorgeous, observing the things in your room. How he looked under the golden lamp light, over his features, over his curls. You were alone. He looked at you, “Your room is so comfortable.” He said. "I'm too used to empty hotels with fluorescents."

"Yuck, I couldn't live if the only lights I had were white, they need to be warm or I feel like I'm at the doctor."

"Oh, it's the worst. Especially trying to wind down at night, even the lamps buzz with the same feeling as the dentist." He said. "You have so many books and... so many pillows." He chuckled, referencing the pillows on your bed, on your desk chair, in the corner of your room. He sat on the bed next to you, close to you, still observing. You watched his jaw as he looked up at the ceiling to your stain glass light fixture and the art on your walls. It was silent with the low rumbles of the voices on the tv just outside your room.

It hit you harder, in the silence of the room with the closed door, that there was nobody else here with you. No Patrick in the room. Nothing between you two. You felt a bit like you’d just put down a baby to sleep, finally.

“Is it also hitting for you that we are alone for the first time? I feel like we just put Patrick down.” Art turned to look at you, shifting his body a bit on the bed.

Your eyes widened, “I was thinking the same thing! Like he’s a child we sent to bed finally.” You laughed.

He laughed. “Exactly!” He had a nice laugh. You leaned forward into each other as you laughed and his hand rested itself on your knee. Your forehead touched his shoulder just barely.

And surprisingly the laughing lasted a lot longer than you imagined. Every time either one of you tried to catch your breath you’d just start laughing again and it was contagious and all-consuming.

But it ended the second he kissed you.

His hands slipped over your jaw and around your ears and he pulled your face to kiss, lips meeting perfectly in the centre. It was sudden but it was natural and it was easy and you kissed him back immediately, slow, compared to the pace of the day. His hand slowly slid from your jaw, down your neck, to the back of it. Your hand slid down his chest and around his back.

He didn’t stop, he didn’t pull away. He just got up on his knees, kiss unbreaking, just as strong, and leaned you back so your head hit your pillows gently. He situated himself above you, kissing you and kissing you right. The way he kissed was better than anything you’d ever had, it was gentle but still strong and wanting as his hands traveled down your waist and yours migrated to around his neck. The giggling had ended for sure as he kissed the side of your mouth, then your cheek, your jaw, over your ear, your neck. Your hand slid up into the back of his hair, finding a grip on the curls.

Your legs wrapped around him, your leg slipping through the slit in the dress, pressing against him. His hand slid down your thigh and over your near-bare hip. his grip on it perfect. If you could have pulled him closer you would have, but in this circumstance it would mean something you weren't quite ready for tonight.

He kissed your neck and collarbone softly, nose grazing your skin as he went along, soft lips pressing to each point until they met yours again. Hungrier, faster, he gripped your hip harder, but enough. His hand slipped further up your dress through the window of the slit, hand on your waist now, your underwear the only thing under it, but ignored by him. He was touchy but in the right way, hand on waist, hip.

You sighed heavily as he kissed over to your ear again, lower lobe, just behind your ear, moving your hair out of the way. It sent goosebumps trailing over your skin.

But you couldn’t help but giggle, the laughter from earlier catching up. He stopped and he moved back over you, face to face. You kept giggling and kissed him once more, a small peck. He grinned. “What’s so funny?”

You laughed again, just a giggle. He kissed you again and you both rolled over in the bed toward the wall and you nearly hit your head but it just made things funnier. He laughed too, placing a hand behind your head to keep it from hitting the wall again. You sat over him, hair falling in both yours and his face. “What’s so funny?” He asked again, but he was laughing now too. And you kissed him again. Just as strong, just as passionately, quieting things again.

Patrick stayed quiet for the rest of the night, presumably passed out on the couch. You and Art spent the rest of the night laying together and talking more, the way you would have if your date earlier had gone well. Talking, kissing freely, a lot of laughter but enough shushing as to not wake Patrick or anything.

"You do smell really good," Art said, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"The communal date-night bodywash bottle," You told him. He found that really funny. "And vanilla perfume."

You kept laughing, talking, connecting. It was easy, like you'd never parted ways. But eventually, he fell asleep. You followed soon after and fell asleep with him, your head on his chest. And it was a rocky, but good night in the end. A good place to resume not only friendship but maybe something else. You’d have to wait and see.

- tts masterlist

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet chapter 6

Hi lovelies here is chapter 6 I hope you enjoy it! please comment like and remind me if you want to be on the tag list

Warnings: abuse, angst and fluff

Words:1.6k

  Saturday   September  22nd 8am

I get woken by loud banging at my door as I try to open my eyes as I still feel tired

"WAKE UP YOU LITTLE BITCH! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT HUH?" he storms into my room as I forget to lock the door last night. My father throws my things from my desk 

"I DIDN'T GET MY DINNER YESTERDAY BECAUSE YOUR WHORING ASS WENT PARTYING LAST NIGHT" he continues screaming and throwing my stuff to the floor, he gets near me and I get up and step backward, but the next thing I see is his fist directly to my face 

                                    Sunday September 23rd  4pm 

I am currently putting ice on my eye because it is all blue and purple, and I am looking for the biggest sunglasses I own to put on for tomorrow at school, the worst thing is that I have a meeting for the group project, and I can't apply makeup because it hurts so much 

Since my mom died my father blamed me for it, he has been physically and verbally abusive to me, and yes I did try to call the police but my father is a psycho and made them believe everything was fine. and that was when I was 14, I wanted to get out of there but my job didn't allow me to get out of my abusive house.

As I try to study for tomorrow's test I feel sleepy, I haven't been able to sleep well because of the pain, So I get some painkillers to kill the pain for now 

                                  Monday September 24th 7am 

I get ready to leave school leave him some breakfast ready eat some myself and go to the bus stop, my eyes are hurting and these big glasses don't let me see correctly.

Lucky for my sister, she doesn't live with us anymore, I asked her before to let me live with her, but her boyfriend doesn't let her, so at the end of the day I am alone, and nobody cares about my situation.

I get to the bus station just in time to get in it and drive away to school.

I walk inside the school and take the fucking stairs that leave me without a fucking lung, my backpack hanging on my shoulders and Chan's cleans clothes in a nice paper bag, I pull my hoodie up my head to hide my face from people seeing me.

I get to my class and see Yuna on her phone and Lia trying to talk to her, I smile and pass through them and get to my spot at the back of the class, and take my phone out.

"yeah but you know you are too good for her bae" I hear a female voice, loud and annoying,  I lift my head to look at this girl who is following Chan to his seat that was 2 tables away from me just to sit at his table at the moment he bent to take out his things for class "oh," he said surprised by her right in front of him, he smiles and says " excuse me  Aein," he said nicely to her

"but I want to sit here with you," she said spreading her legs in front of him, tilting her face sideways trying to be 'cute' "Sure you can sit here" he smiled grabbing his stuff, and moved to the table next to me, I smile in a laughing way by his action and look back down to my phone

He smiled back at the girl and started to organize his stuff, "hey" he talked to me, "hey" I answered without looking at him trying to hide my face from him.

"she gets annoying sometimes," he tells me about the girl rolling his eyes about the situation," you got her deprived man," I said chucking as he laughed "Guess she didn't get enough last time" he chuckles leaning back to the chair and I smile, still having my head staring at my phone.

"what's with the glasses?" he asked changing the awkward convo we had, "I didn't have much sleep last night so I have huge under bags" I fixed the top of my hoodie covering more of my face 

"huh, what kept you sleepless last night? or should  I say who?" he smirks teasing me about things that I know didn't happen,  he laughs when I sucked my teeth at him  and smile/laughed at his teasing 

"no man, I just had a lot of back pain and I couldn't lie down because of it" I rest my head on my hand resting over the desk putting my face close to my phone and distracting him from looking at it  "Yeah right" he smirks so I flip him off laying my head on the desk.

"you free tonight?" he asks me and I move my head lazily looking at him, acting cool while my stomach gives flips

"ye- no..." remembering my eye "What? yes or no?"   

"no...sorry" I said feeling disappointed 

"How about tomorrow?" he asked me hopeful for my answer

"mm... I don't know," I said thinking when my eye could feel better and not use

"Why?" he asked curiously "I've been a bit sick lately so I don't know when I'm going to feel better" I lie 

"Here you go" he hands me his phone with the phone pad ready "Type in your number so I can know how you feel during the week. he smiles sweetly and I grab his phone trying my best to hide my smile 

"Here you go" I give it back to him and receive a little thanks from him but the bell rings so we pay attention to the class

time skip 

I was sitting with Lia, Yuna, Mina, and Tzuyu still covering my eyes with my glasses and keeping my hoodie on

"what's up with the glasses," Mina says "Oh... is cz I got an infection in my eye so it bit red" I lie...again giving an excuse to keep this from embarrassing me

"oh, well I hope you get better," Yuna says, and they all nod 

Mina gasped and said, "Did you guys hear what happened in 3rd period yesterday?"

"No, what happened?" Lia says waiting for the tea Mina is about to give us

"Chaeyoung saw Chan and Sana coming out of the boys' changing room at the soccer field," she said nodding her head, dramatically telling us the story 

"Really? Is that why she came back with bruises on her neck?" Tzuyu said

"My omg they were hickeys?" all the girls gasp 

"no way! are they back together?" Yuna asks "What do you mean back together?" I ask confused "You didn't know girl? Sana dated Chan for about 2 years," Lia says

"Yeah there was even a rumor she was pregnant," they say while I stay in shock "But... how didn't I know?" I said calculating all the years I've been here and not noticing something like that 

"Well they kept it a secret all that time, don't ask me why," Mins says 

"She told us once near the lockers and some other chick heard and started making rumors saying she was pregnant" They all gasped "I do remember that" 

your shocked look made everyone laugh, "you did know Chan is just a huge playboy right?" Mina said "Yeah girl I've seen him spend more time with you each day, just be careful and don't let your heart betray you, I mean if you want to have your fun with him go ahead but don't think he has a crush on you or something" Yuna warns me about him 

I feel...jealous. uncomfortable with the news? why tho? 

we finish out part of the project for the day I pack my stuff and get ready to head home before my father does, I walk through the corridors when I felt an arm around me "Hey miss gurl" he slurs the l "What do you want Hyun-jin" I ask again in a bad mood "you can't believe the tea I have, I dared Lee Know to sleep with Aerin the tall cheerleader, yk?" he looks at me with his arm still hooked on my neck and I nod "but when they were in the middle of taking his clothes off can you imagine Aerin had a dick" he laughs "I made poor minho go through all that just to find out he was a boy " I looked shocked at him as I didn't expect him to be a boy "but did they fuck?" I ask

"well he told me he didn't mind and fucked her," he says dramatically "i swear Min-ho is the freakiest of all of us" he shakes his head in disbelief " I mean there is nothing wrong with that but just imagine the surprise, but the thing is he took the opportunity with both hands...literally" he burst out laughing not getting over the fact he fucked a man

"but you know I've always seen Lee Know flirt with men, but it just took me by surprise," he says and I giggle 

"Are you talking our shit with her?" Chan catches up with our pace "Yes and you can't tell me shit" Hyunjin continues walking with his arm around me

"but yeah that was my weekly dose of tea for you little girl, I will tell you some more next week," he says all of us are still walking and talking about something else but I still can't get myself to look at Chan feeling guilty of my delusions I had of him

"hey, Jinnie can I take her away from you for a minute?" Chan asks in the middle of a conversation 

"sure dude, bye cakes bye Chan see you all soon, oh! And have fun" he winks and salutes us before turning  around and leaving us alone calling my nickname from elementary teasing me knowing I hate that nickname

"Are you avoiding me?"

hey guys I hope you enjoy this please comment and like remember requests are open and also the taglist is open so please tell me if you want to be added, love you all!

taglist: @strayywayy @stayceebs97 @foivestarrsketchez @salfetkablog

[cheritzssebba]

Title Change: Worth and Warmth -> Secret Ending Three

Secret Ending Three - Chapter 3: Pamper

Guys. I think I have a thing for this trope.

The trust. The vulnerability. The domesticity. The platonic, non-sexual nudity.

Why I love this trope so much, I DO not know.

It's still cold, even in the house. The whole place is full of the remainders of gift wrappings and ripped packaging. It's a huge mess, but it's fun to leave everything out and pretend Christmas never ended.

The world we've found ourselves in itself has traces of every single version of events. I'm glad every Christmas we had was a good one.

Today was hectic. I'm beginning to understand why it's called Boxing Day, what with how it feels like you've been thrown in the ring. We all stayed at the department store all day preparing for our future with the seven of us, buying clothes and groceries. Dinner was rushed but comforting and warm in this storm of emotions. I think we're all just about ready to head to bed immediately.

I can't help but yawn as I sit down to write in my diary again. It feels like only now I can finally take a breather and I just stare at the past pages, pen in hand.

The words are smudged. Not because of being tampered with, but because each past diary entry had been written all on top of each other in a way that's beyond comprehension. I think I should invest in better quality pens anyway though.

He opens my door without knocking and just stands in the doorway, looking at me. I can already see the beginnings of faint dark circles forming under his eye.

"Ready for bed? You look tired."

"I do..? If you say so," he said, perching on the corner of the bed. After getting home, one of the topics brought up at dinner were our sleeping arrangements. We decided on going with the same arrangements we'd had at the beginning, while he can sleep with me in my bed.

"I've never slept before."

"Really?" I turned around and put my pen down at his comment. "I thought you'd been human for a while already."

"Yeah, but the Abandoned Toys Room isn't like the normal world. We all appear human there, but time flows differently and we don't need to eat or sleep."

"This must all be so new for you then."

"Tell me about it."

I followed his eyes as he looked down and fidgeted with his left sleeve. I didn't notice until now how his fingernails had such dirt underneath them and were incredibly jagged and cracked.

I took this moment to study the rest of his body as well. He was wearing the clothes I originally found him in: his ripped white shirt with the dark purple trousers and accessories. His hair was dry and tangled in places and his bare feet were near black with dirt. How could I have left him in such a state for so long?

"Are you really okay like this??"

"Like what?"

"Like...like this! I can't believe I was so reckless with you when I was little. You don't even have both eyes anymore, you're so dirty!"

"Well, it's not really fun, no. But I've lived like this for a long time now, I'm used to it."

"No, this isn't right. No matter how much you're used to it."

"Hm?"

I leapt up from my seat and took his hands in mine, determined.

"I'm no longer the kind of person who will leave you to rot. I promise you, for real this time, I'm gonna fix my mistakes. Let's start with fixing you."

"Just what do you mean by that??"

"I'm saying, why don't I give you a pamper day? You probably don't know how to care for yourself, right? Since you're so new to being human?"

"Oh..."

"So I'll take care of you! Does that sound good?"

"I hated being thrown in the washing machine..."

"No, don't worry. Human hygiene is nothing like that! It's actually kind of relaxing, I promise."

"Ah, I see..."

"So what do you think? Shall I help you get clean and ready for bed?"

"Well... Alright. Maybe it'll be good to get a good dusting for once."

"Yay! Let's go! I promise I'll do my best to help!"

"First of all, let's brush your teeth." She says this with her back turned to me, as she's leaned over the bath, running the water. The sound of the rushing tap is loud and the smell of the bubble bath concoction she's generously pouring in has already filled the room.

I find a spare toothbrush in the cabinet next to the sink and make my attempt at squeezing the paste onto the bristles. Despite the limited dexterity in my left arm, I manage to empty a sufficient enough amount. It should be the size of a pea, right?

"Woah, you did well with the toothpaste. You could've let me do it for you, you know?"

"It's easy enough. But how am I supposed to use this in my mouth?"

"It's alright, it's easier than it looks. You have to open your mouth and brush each tooth, not too rough."

Cautiously, I sniffed the wooden stick before biting into it gently. The paste's minty flavour was strong, and I wrinkled my nose at it initially, but soon warmed up to its biting cold. I enjoyed placidly chewing on it a lot more than I thought I would.

"I don't know if that's how you're supposed to do it, but if you're happy like that, it's fine. It is your first time after all... How about you try smiling and I can brush the front teeth for you to show you how I do it?"

"Hmm..." I furrowed my brows at her before remembering her promise not to treat me like she used to, then gave a hesitant nod.

"Okay. Here." She held her hand out to me and I placed the brush in her palm. "Now say cheese!" she beamed. I bared my teeth in response, not as a simple following of instructions, but as a reflection of her own contagious smile.

The way she held the brush looked like an inconvenience to her, what with the awkward angle she'd have to approach brushing someone else's teeth from. However, although it felt as if she too were new to this activity from her shakiness, the sensation wasn't invasive too much, and it was more of a pain to stand so still than to feel the back-and-forth of the brush.

I forgot all about the unpleasantness of the paste's vibrancy when watching her face as she worked. Her lips pressed together in a tight line. Her brow creased, as mine did before, now in concentration. Her yellow eyes were trained on me, and I silently counted the number of times she blinked, noting the immensity of her pupils and the intricacies of her irises.

"That's basically how it's done. Do you think you can take it from there? Just try and do what I did but along the tops and bottoms of your teeth too, and where I couldn't reach. Oh, and you can spit out the paste if it gets annoying."

I silently asked for the toothbrush back, holding out my own hand. After spitting some of the annoyance into the sink, I stuck the brush back in, ready to make a better attempt. As she said, it wasn't nearly as difficult as it seemed, just a bit tedious. Although, her demonstration made it much easier to understand. Soon, I felt much more refreshed and clean, and washed the rest of the mixture out, satisfied.

"How did you find that?"

"Not bad. A bit gross."

"Then that sounds good enough. Are you ready for the bath? The water seems like a good temperature now."

"Hmmm. Why not?" Can't be half as bad as last time, right?

I dipped a finger in the water, crouched down on the floor after removing all my clothes. It felt strange to be without them. Sitting in a tub of warm water might feel stranger though. Gingerly, I stepped in and acclimated to the steaming heat. It felt nice to sit, surrounded by mounds of bubbles.

"Are you in yet?"

"I'm up to my ears in bubbles, you can look now."

"Okay... Oh my god." Her face lit up in surprise as she laid eyes on me. "You look so cute like that! Like you're hiding in the bubbles! So cute!"

"Heh... It does feel nice."

"Right? And check this out too!" She produced from the cabinet a small pink ball. "It's a bath bomb. I haven't used one of these in a while, since I tend to shower more than bathe, but I thought it might be fun for you to use!"

"What does it do?"

"Umm, it's easier to show than explain. It kinda just fizzes and makes really pretty colours in the water. I've also got a couple rubber duckies to help you relax too." I do like ducks.

The bath bomb fizzled almost immediately as it landed in the water. It sank straight to the bottom and I watched the pink fizz reach the surface enthusiastically, before it began to spread across the expanse of the bath.

The fizz mingled with the bubbles, tinging them pink and the rubber duck bobbed along, looking startled.

"Alright! Then if you're comfortable in there, shall we begin?" she asked, rolling her sleeves back for the tenth time. I nodded in response, more occupied by swishing the water around me and popping bubbles.

"Okay then! First of all, let's make sure you're all properly wet. I'm gonna fill this jug with water and pour it over your hair, okay? I'll use my other hand to shield your face though. Ready?"

"Ready."

"Okay. Remember to hold your breath."

I squeezed the rubber duck while I held my breath as the warm water hugged my hair and trickled down my face. It felt strange and I couldn't help but giggle at the sensation, which then accidentally allowed some of the water into my mouth. That part didn't taste or feel good.

She lightly dabbed my face with a towel in apology before picking up a bottle of something. When she opened the lid, it smelled floral.

"Next, let's do the shampoo." She squirted some of the floral stuff into her hand with a squelch and began to massage it into my scalp. Her hands were small and soft, working up a lather with care.

When she said she was going to pamper me, I hadn't expected for it to really feel like it. She rinsed out the shampoo after ensuring that my hair was thoroughly frothy, then did the same with the conditioner. She also kneaded some body wash into my skin in slow and soft circular motions.

While playing with the mountainous bubbles, I piled a fistful on top of my hair like a wig, when I noticed that I couldn't find a single knot or tangle. It felt refreshing to be able to card my fingers through my hair without issue, as soft and light and breathable as stuffing. My hands too were free of dust or grime, now along with my feet, wriggling at the other end of the bath with Sir Ducky. Perhaps this human hygiene thing looked not to be such a bad idea afterall.

"Okay, we're all done. Are you ready to get out now?"

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Oh, are you enjoying it then? I'm glad! But the water's dirty now, so it would be best to get out. Don't worry though, we can definitely do this again another time!"

"Aww... Okay then."

Fascinated, I watched the water all swirl into a mini whirlpool down the drain, leaving only a residue of pink bubbles and a lonely rubber duck. Meanwhile, I was cloaked in a fluffy purple bathrobe and she rubbed my hair through thoroughly with a separate towel.

Back in the bedroom, I sat on her desk chair while she sat on the corner of the bed as she brushed and blow dried my hair. The sound of the hairdryer was powerful but the heat was alright. I could already feel how quickly I was becoming dry.

"Hmm, let's see... Next, how about we take care of those nails?"

"My nails?"

"Yeah, they're a bit too long, aren't they? If they get too long, you might end up scratching yourself or they might break on their own."

"Oh..." Running my fingers over the sharpness of my nails didn't exactly feel good, in truth.

"It's okay though, all we have to do is file them down. They will grow back, so we don't have to worry."

"Oh, okay." Human bodies sure are strange.

She leaned over towards me, holding a sandpaper stick over a bin, with my hand gently cradled in hers again. Awkwardly but kindly, the stick made back and forth motions on each nail, slowly sanding each down to a smooth, round shape. It was slightly painful and filled the place with dust, but I enjoyed how my human fingers now resembled my old paws with their softer edges.

"How's that? I tried to get it as neat as I could."

"It's per..." I tried to speak but was interrupted by my own yawn. "... Perfect."

"Are you getting sleepier? That's cute. Why don't you get changed into your new pyjamas then and let's get into bed?"

She wiped off the dust from my fingers before I got changed into my starry pyjamas. They were a bit bigger than I expected but I do prefer long sleeves anyway, so I don't mind it that much.

"Oh, one more thing." I'd gotten under the covers and I was about to lay down when she stopped me. "Give me your hands again."

I hesitated for not even a second before obeying, and she happily massaged into my hands another cream that she meticulously rubbed into the skin of each finger, along each knuckle and into my palms. I took my hands back when she was satisfied and lifted them up to my nose. It smelled like watermelon.

Once she'd also gotten changed, we huddled together under the covers, entangled in each other's limbs.

"Oh, but-" I winced.

"What's up? Is it too close?"

"No, it's not that. It's just...my arm."

"Oh! Sorry! Let's swap sides."

I wriggled my bad arm out from underneath her and she crawled over me to the opposite side of the bed. We resumed our position again, without as much pins and needles, now comfortable.

"How do you feel now?"

"Happy." I couldn't help but beam. I hope I can properly convey how I feel. I'm not used to expressing happy emotions.

"Hehe, I did mean about the bath and everything, but it does make me happy to hear that."

"Oh, I feel very soft, yes. That too."

"Okay, that's good. And it didn't feel too difficult for you to do yourself next time, right? I'll still help you if you're getting used to it, but how do you feel about doing it yourself?"

"Hmm, I think it should be okay. It might be difficult, but I think I can do it. Do humans have to do this every day?"

"Not everyday. Well, I think Yuri does. But people usually shower more often than bathe since it's quicker. It's just easier to bathe you while you're sitting in a bath though. Eventually, I'll teach you to use the shower too, if you'd like."

"I'd like that..."

"Me too."

I burrowed deeper under the duvet and buried my head into the crook of her neck. In response, she rested her hand upon my head, gently playing with my soft hair.

I've missed this. So much.

I sighed happily, "Goodnight, owner."

I felt her smile above me. "Goodnight."

Didn't realise til now how much I loved the trope of someone who takes care of someone, who then repays them by taking care of them. ^^^^^^ Nameless watched over her when she was a child. But while she grew up, he stayed the same, and now is a child compared to her. Now she looks after himmmmmm 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[speechlesscody]

“What do you leer at?” I snap at them, “back to your training. Do not let me catch you lacking again.”

The Inquisitors hurry to resume their training but they certainly don’t forget about the beloved Commander being in the doghouse.

In fact, the next day when Cody takes one of them on a mission, he’s barraged with snide comments the whole time. Comments like ‘if they no longer value your opinion and strategy, why should I?’, or, ‘you know they’ll probably give you the grunt work now. Maybe Crosshair will take your place’.

By the time Cody returns home, he’s absolutely exhausted and that punk ass Inquisitor, Jaspar, has pushed him over the edge far too many times.

He exits the ship without another word to the boy, gritting his teeth so hard it hurts as Jaspar shouts after him, “Good luck, Icarus!”

Cody shoves the door of the hangar open and storms down the hall, so in his head that he doesn’t see little Aurra coming around the corner.

He plows into her and sends her straight to the floor, the flower vase she was carrying smashing into pieces.

“Fuck- Aurra I’m sorry,” he helps her up and then gets down on the floor, starting to pick the sharp vase pieces up with his bare hands. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m- yeah,” Aurra breathes, fixing her hair and adjusting her top a bit since he knocked her down quite roughly. She blinks as she spots blood on his hand and leans down, grabbing his hand. “Wait- stop! You cut your hand.”

“I’m fine.” He murmurs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your pretty flowers.”

“It’s okay,” she says softer, watching him a moment as he continued to clean up the pieces. “I um… I have some leftover cake,” she offers. “From my birthday. If- if you would like some. You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

Cody pauses what he’s doing and stares down at the glass pieces, starting to laugh as an unexpected rush of tears burns his eyes.

Aurra gulps, not entirely sure what to do. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“I don’t want any cake, sweetheart,” Cody rasps, closing his eyes. “Just- I’d like t’be alone for a minute. Go on and enjoy your birthday. I’ll- I’ll replace your flowers. I’ll bring you fresh ones in the morning.”

Aurra’s brows furrow and she reaches down to gently pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, Commander,” she whispers. “Try and have a better night.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze before walking off, heading home for the evening.

Footsteps approach a minute later and stop abruptly, Jaspar’s low chuckle filling the hall. “So first you mess up with the Emperor and now you break something? Not a very good week for you, Marshal Commander. Maybe you should just pack it up and leave.”

Cody growls and grabs a jagged piece of the vase, whirling on Jaspar to stab him with it. Only… Jaspar catches his fist and uses an extra push with the Force to make him turn it on himself, jabbing it back into his shoulder.

That only fuels Cody more and he starts a full on fight with the Inquisitor, raising alarm all throughout the halls as people yell about a fight.

[joygirlmelii]

Too Close Too Late | 2

Title: Too Close, Too Late

Character: Laura Palmer/Shelly Johnson

Fandom: Twin Peaks

Words: 722

Part: 2/?

Part 1 | Part 3

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Summary

Laura and Shelly's "first" meeting. Laura takes care of Shelly.

——————————

Notes

English is not my first language so let me know if you find any errors. Likes and comments are extremely welcome!!

You can also find me on ao3: joygirlmelii

——————————

The first time Laura appeared in front of Shelly, the latter already knew who she was.

She knew that Laura Palmer was the kind of girl who brought trouble. The kind of girl who walked through the school hallways with a charming smile, as if everything belonged to her, and at the same time, walked straight into the wolf’s mouth without a second thought. She knew that Laura was dating Bobby Briggs while also getting involved with Leo Johnson, as if she didn’t care that he had a girlfriend. As if she didn’t care that the girlfriend was Shelly.

And yet, there she was.

That night, Shelly was cleaning the counter at the Double R Diner when the door opened and Laura walked in, her wool coat wrapped around her and her golden hair illuminated by the neon sign’s glow. She looked out of place there, too bright to fit into Shelly’s world of ‘dirt’.

“Hi, Shelly,” the teenager greeted in a singsong voice.

Shelly looked at her without responding immediately, gripping the damp cloth tightly between her fingers.

“What do you want, Laura?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Laura smiled, that small, mysterious smile that always seemed to hide something.

“A coffee… and a little company,” she said without a hint of shame.

Shelly let out an audible scoff and went back to wiping the counter, even though it was already clean.

“Really? You come here like nothing happened after messing around with Leo?” Her voice was louder than it should have been; she was grateful Norma wasn’t around.

The blonde didn’t flinch at the words or the tone. She took off her coat, placed it on the stool beside her, and leaned over the counter, her eyes fixed on Shelly.

“I know he treats you like shit,” she said with a seriousness that would chill anyone nearby.

Shelly felt a lump forming in her throat, but she didn’t let it show on her face.

“So what? Does that make you feel better?” the older girl asked.

“No, it just makes me hate him more,” Laura finally admitted.

Shelly stopped wiping the counter at those words. For the first time, she lifted her gaze and met Laura’s eyes. There was no mockery in them, no superiority, just something that looked too much like understanding.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, one Shelly didn’t know how to break, until Laura spoke again. She had already settled back into her seat.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Shelly. I just want a coffee,” she said softly, playing with a napkin in her hands.

Shelly sighed and turned to prepare the cup of coffee. When she placed it in front of Laura, the blonde let go of the napkin and smiled as if she had won something.

That night, Laura stayed longer than she should have, just keeping her company. Shelly didn’t make her leave.

—

Shelly should have hated her, or at the very least ignored her. But instead, she found something in her that she didn’t expect: peace. Not the kind of peace that was calm and steady, but the kind shared between two people who understood each other’s chaos without needing explanations.

Sometimes, when Leo wasn’t around, Laura stayed with her. She let Shelly rest her head on her lap, ran her fingers through her hair, and cleaned her cuts and bruises with a tenderness no one else had ever shown her.

“You shouldn’t let him do this to you,” Laura murmured as she dabbed alcohol on a wound on her arm.

Shelly let out a hollow laugh.

“As if I had a choice,” she said, resigned, almost accepting the reality she lived in.

Laura would fall silent, that serious look in her eyes that she rarely showed anyone. Then she would lean down and press a kiss to the broken skin with the same delicacy with which she treated it.

“There’s always a choice,” she whispered against her skin.

Shelly wanted to believe her. God, how she wanted to believe her. But Laura said so many things that sounded beautiful yet felt empty at the same time.

And still, when Laura was there, when her hands touched her with a gentleness that contrasted with Leo’s blows, Shelly allowed herself to pretend, just for a moment, that things could be different.

[nel-world]

hi--

Scene 1: Arthur Discovers the Letters

INT. PENNY AND ARTHUR’S RUNDOWN APARTMENT – NIGHT

The room is dimly lit, cluttered with old furniture and papers. Penny lies weak in bed, her breathing shallow. Arthur, cleaning up, discovers a stack of letters addressed to “Thomas Wayne.” Confusion clouds his face as he flips through them.

ARTHUR (holding up the letters) Mom... you’ve been writing to Thomas Wayne?

PENNY (weakly, with effort) He owes us, Arthur. He promised your father. He’s the only one who can help now.

ARTHUR (frowning, flipping through the letters) Why didn’t you tell me?

PENNY (her voice frail) He was supposed to make things right... your father trusted him. Wayne’s the reason we lost everything... but he’ll come through. Just remind him. He’ll help you.

ARTHUR (conflicted, anger building) You’ve been waiting all these years, and nothing’s changed. You still believe he’s going to help?

PENNY (desperate, clinging to hope) He will, Arthur. You’ll see. Just go to him. He’ll remember.

Arthur, holding the letters tightly, glances at his mother, unsure whether to believe her. His face hardens, and he storms out of the room.

Scene 2: Arthur Confronts Wayne About the Past

INT. WAYNE’S PRIVATE OFFICE – NIGHT

Arthur sneaks into Wayne’s lavish office, his steps unsteady but determined. He holds the stack of letters in hand as he approaches Wayne’s desk. Wayne sits, sipping whiskey, calm and indifferent as Arthur enters.

WAYNE (without looking up) What do you want? This is a private office.

ARTHUR (voice shaky, stepping forward) You destroyed my father. He trusted you. You took everything from him!

Wayne glances up at Arthur, now recognizing him but showing no concern.

WAYNE (calm, condescending) Your father? Right. He was one of those men who couldn’t handle this city. Weak. Happens all the time.

ARTHUR (voice trembling with emotion) He thought you were partners! You ruined him. And you left us with nothing. My mother... she’s been writing to you for years, waiting for you to fix it.

WAYNE (leaning back, amused) Your father’s failure isn’t my responsibility. He wasn’t strong enough to survive Gotham. That’s how this city works. You either crush, or you get crushed.

Arthur’s fists clench as the weight of Wayne’s indifference sinks in. His eyes flash with a mix of anger and disbelief.

ARTHUR (gritting his teeth) You destroyed us. My mother still thinks you’re going to help. But you never cared.

WAYNE (cold, standing up) I did what had to be done. And now you come here whining, expecting what? Sympathy? You’re no different than your father—another nobody who couldn’t survive.

Scene 2.5: Arthur Posts About Wayne on Social Media

INT. ARTHUR’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Arthur sits in front of his old laptop, his face tense and focused. His hands hover over the keyboard as he begins typing furiously, exposing everything he knows about Wayne’s betrayal of his father. He posts the letters his mother wrote, along with pictures of Wayne and his father together, attaching bitter captions accusing Wayne of greed and corruption.

ARTHUR (V.O.) (whispering to himself as he types) People need to see the truth. They need to know who you really are. You can’t hide behind your money forever.

Arthur clicks “POST,” and within minutes, the post starts gaining attention. Comments flood in—some mocking, others in agreement. Arthur stares at the screen as his mind swirls with a mixture of rage and satisfaction.

Scene 3: Arthur’s Fight with Wayne’s Men (Abandoned Warehouse)

EXT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

Arthur is dragged out of a black SUV by two of Wayne’s henchmen. His hands are bound behind his back. They shove him into a dark, decrepit warehouse. The space is empty, cold, and filled with the sounds of dripping water. One of the men lights a cigarette, tossing a match onto the ground where gasoline has been spread.

HENCHMAN 1 (mocking, as he pushes Arthur to the ground) You thought you could post that crap about Mr. Wayne and get away with it? He owns this city. You’re just a bug he’s about to squash.

HENCHMAN 2 (laughing, flicking the match onto the gasoline) Enjoy the show, freak.

The fire ignites, spreading quickly around the room. Arthur, tied to a chair, watches as the flames grow closer. His face, though panicked at first, starts to relax. He laughs quietly, then louder and louder as the fire inches toward him.

WAYNE (V.O.) (echoing through Arthur’s mind) Your father was weak. You’re weak. People like you get eaten alive in Gotham.

Arthur grins wildly as the flames reach him, but he remains unfazed. His ropes burn away, freeing his hands. He stands, walking through the fire toward the henchmen. His laughter echoes through the warehouse.

ARTHUR (grinning, voice calm) I’m not afraid anymore.

Scene 4: Arthur’s Escape and Transformation

INT. BURNING WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

The fire rages around Arthur, but he moves through it with newfound confidence, fighting off the henchmen one by one. He grabs a metal pipe and swings it with savage precision, taking them down with brutal efficiency.

He pauses, looking at his reflection in a broken mirror on the wall. His face is smeared with soot, and his eyes burn with a manic intensity. The fire illuminates his features as he realizes that the flames, like his rage, have consumed him but not destroyed him.

ARTHUR (V.O.) (whispering, grinning at his reflection) I don’t burn. I rise.

He walks through the warehouse’s flames, leaving the destruction behind.

Scene 5: Final Confrontation – Joker vs. Wayne

EXT. WAYNE MANSION – NIGHT

Arthur, now fully transformed into the Joker, stands outside Wayne’s mansion. He watches as Wayne exits his car, oblivious to the figure waiting in the shadows. Wayne pauses when he sees Joker standing there, smiling menacingly.

WAYNE (irritated, but slightly uneasy) You again? What now? Come to beg for help?

JOKER (ARTHUR) (smiling darkly) Beg? No. I’m done asking for anything. It’s time you see what happens when everything you built starts to burn.

WAYNE (mocking, stepping closer) You don’t understand how the world works. It’s about power, money, control. People like you don’t matter.

JOKER (ARTHUR) (laughing, shaking his head) No, you still don’t get it, do you? It’s not about money. It’s about chaos. And I’m here to watch it all burn.

Joker flicks a lighter, setting fire to the bushes surrounding the mansion. The flames quickly spread, reflecting in Wayne’s eyes as he stares in shock. Joker walks away, leaving Wayne standing in the growing blaze, his world collapsing.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

they warned us, a storm is coming on

I've been wanting to write something with my icemav daughter, Sofia, for the Longest time. And of course when I finally did, it's angst and family emotions! Huge thanks to @hangsters for enabling me and being the best.

Please reblog and leave a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Admiral Kazansky has had the job long enough to know it isn't easy. Especially when the Navy has made his family a secret, especially when it has forced a wedge between his husband and the closest thing they'll have to a son.

And now when it has knocked his daughter out of the sky.

------

After so long behind this desk, Admiral Kazansky had started to get a sense of which phone calls were going to ease one of his many headaches, which ones were going to make him say a word his Bubbie would have scolded him for, and which ones were going to break his heart. 

This one had already fallen into the second category, ringing out shrilly over the low hum of noise in the office, while he was lost in an interesting budget request for development of an experimental jet. He’d just been thinking that it was something Maverick might be interested in, whenever his current deployment blew up in his face, when his receptionist’s phone interrupted. Ice closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, that familiar cold feeling on its heels. This one was going to be bad, he could just tell. 

He got a few more minutes to try and pretend today wasn’t going to shit before a harried looking aide appeared in the doorway of his office. Ice would assume her pale face, the slight tremble in her voice was because she was new but, truly, you never got used to this. Immediately, Ice lifted his chin, set his jaw, ready to face it without flinching. He was the admiral, it was his job to be braver than everyone else, for his hands not to shake. He fixed a smile on his face like all was fine, which was probably a lie, and like it wasn’t the young recruit’s fault, which was at least true. 

“There’s been a crash, sir,” her salute came a beat too late, her hand trembling, “A plane went down at the Top Gun base. Bird strike, it sounds like. No fatalities yet but a pilot was really badly burned in the wreck, the ejection failed, they’re being rushed to the hospital-”

“Which pilot?”

Ice’s voice came like a whip crack, stopping the poor young aide in her tracks, making her stammer and shake harder. 

Though not quite as hard as Ice’s own hands were shaking. 

“Which pilot,” he said again, forcing it out through gritted teeth when an answer didn’t come fast enough. Not that he wanted to hear it.  

Another ringing, even more unwelcome and unwanted, Ice’s personal phone this time. His answer. At the sound, his heart broke clean in two.

The aide looked down at the paper in her hand, where she must have scrawled the bones of the message. 

“Um…call sign Whiplash, sir. I…I don’t have a name…”

Ice did. Sofia Mitchell, callsign Whiplash.

Already he was moving, picking up his keys and the still ringing phone, shoving it into his pocket unanswered as he bulled past the aide pausing only to take that note from her. Past his receptionist, not caring about the stunned faces he passed, the questions he left behind. He didn’t need to hear what they had to say, none of it mattered. He didn’t need to know who was on the end of that phone, trying to give him news that would shatter him completely if he had to hear it again. 

And he couldn’t break, not now. That would come later.

Tom didn’t need to ask which hospital they’d taken her to. He’d been a student, instructor and now he supposed he was in charge at Top Gun, he knew the procedure when things went wrong. It was depressing to think just how many times he’d done exactly this, racing towards the military hospital with his heart in his throat, letting himself panic quietly while he was alone so he had a chance of holding it together when he was in front of others. How many worst days of his life had he had at this exact hospital, how much of the tightness in his chest as he walked through the doors was remembered pain rather than fresh?

Thanks to Maverick, he at least knew the steps of this dance. But it had never been her before. 

Tom had never walked up to the desk, said firmly, “I need to see Lieutenant Mitchell,” and not meant his husband. 

The man behind the desk nodded, taken aback first by the forcefulness of his voice and second by the insignia on his collar, if he didn’t already know his face. He moved to the computer, tapping away for an agonizingly long time before his face paled. 

“She’s in the emergency triage area awaiting surgery but…Admiral, I’m sorry, I…we can only admit family…I don’t see your name…”

Tom closed his eyes because he didn’t trust the emotions flickering across them. The hurt that usually stayed a low, static hum in the background flared, threatening to shatter the control he was clinging to. He knew what that file on the computer read. Lieutenant Sofia Mitchell, twenty four, pages of commendations from the Naval Academy and flight school, a few disciplinary letters that wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who recognised her surname. Because there was only one parent listed on that file, on her birth certificate. The father she’d arrived looking most like, dark, perpetually messy hair and blue green eyes and a crooked smile. That was Maverick. 

And in a world where, no matter how many medals and insignias he had, the truth would be the ruin of him and the people he loved, there was no room for his name on that file. Tom knew that. He’d known that since those insane, almost unreal months before Sofia even arrived, it had been his idea in the first place. He’d made the decision so Maverick didn’t have to. 

But now Tom was standing there, having to bear the full weight of that choice. His little girl was in this building, bleeding and broken and terrified after falling out of the goddamn sky, and he was standing here, not her father. 

Tom took that helpless anger and formed it into something solid and unyielding, a hammer behind his words. The action was familiar.

“Listen. I understand that you are doing your job and following regulations. But I’m going to the room where Lieutenant Mitchell is. You’re more than welcome to try and stop me. Triage area, you said?”

The receptionist nodded, swallowing hard, “Third floor, Admiral.”

“Thank you,” his voice nearly trembled with relief, moving quickly past the desk, towards the stairs, elevators would mean standing still for far too long. 

He didn’t allow anyone else to stop him, ignoring questioning looks and a few confused, hurried salutes, just trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, scared of what would happen if he hesitated. Another nurse helped direct him once he was in the right department, her face tight and a little anxious. 

“She’s going to be okay,” she felt the need to reassure Tom before sending him down the hall.

He saw why, as soon as he opened the right door. He tried to repeat it in his mind, she’s going to be okay, she’s going to be okay, they said she’s going to be okay. Mostly to keep back the tears. 

Sofia had always been small, taking after Maverick more than Tom, once small enough that Tom could hold her in one hand, that he could balance her on one hip, that she could sit in his lap and tuck herself in and he could make a small, safe world for her in his arms. Now she seemed even smaller, shrunken down, eclipsed in the grasp of tubes and wires and bandages. A clear mask obscuring the lower half of her face, tubes entering her body at the hips with fluid running through them, gauze clinging to skin that looked blackened through soot ringed tears in her flight suit. 

A vague, shaking voice in the back of his mind, the part that had broken away from the screaming panic and now had nowhere to go, whispered remember her first flight suit, the one she wanted to wear for Halloween so she could look like you? 

Tom couldn’t help a choked noise of pain, the few steps it took to get to her bedside feeling like far too many. He was simultaneously desperate and terrified to touch her, like if he did these last, burned tatters of his daughter would fade away too. 

He settled for a shaking hand against her hair, feeling it thick with oil and soot, his voice rough and agonized, “Sofia…bobbin, I’m here, it’s okay…” the words felt like nothing, less than nothing, they couldn’t knit her skin back together or soothe those awful burns, what good were they?

But Sofia stirred, like she’d been waiting for it, her voice far away and misty behind the mask like it was coming from a different planet, “Papa…”

“I’m here,” Tom took her hand as it lifted shakily and grasped towards him, it seemed relatively unmarred, “I’m here. Sofia…”

“M’sorry…” she opened her eyes, that odd mix of blue and green just like her daddy, but now hazy and clouded with pain, “Sorry…”

“What for?” Tom’s voice broke, pressing her knuckles to his lips, “You did nothing wrong, bobbin, nothing at all. It was a bird strike, the engine stalled, you were too close to the ground, you were rolling…you did everything right. You did. This kind of thing…it happens. It just happens.” 

Then why the fuck did you let your daughter go up in the air? Tom felt his stomach roil, his mind rage, you knew and you let her go. 

Sofia didn’t seem to hear him, deep tremors running through her whole body, her hands clinging to his hard enough to ache, “Papa…it hurts…”

Tom swallowed hard, hollows opening up in the stomach where he desperately wanted his daughter’s pain to go, “I know. Bobbin, I know, they’re going to give you painkillers, they’re going to make it better.”

But her breathing was getting faster, her grip becoming desperate, “Papa…”

Tom fought hard to keep his own panic on a tight leash, leaning close, resting his forehead against hers so he would be all she saw. She smelled of cordite and carbon, sweat and fear, her eyes were wide and flared like a cornered animal. 

“I couldn’t get out, I kept trying but the canopy wouldn’t lift…it just burned when I touched it…I couldn’t get out…I was yelling, I was yelling for you-”

“Hey,” Tom tried to pretend that this was all just a bad dream she’d had, that she’d come into their room at night with some imagined terror. He had to pretend,for both of their sakes, “I’m right here. Deep breaths, with me…in and out, that’s it.”

Slowly, surely, he got her breathing steadily, her exhales fogging the oxygen mask. Sofia looked at him like he was the achor keeping her on the surface of the Earth, stopping her from fading away. Like she could believe him when he told her it would be okay, even with her legs blackened and burned. 

“That’s it…that’s my brave girl…” Tom nodded, “We’re going to get through this, okay? We’re going to do it together.” 

“I’m scared…” she sounded so much younger than her twenty four years, like it really was two in the morning and they really were hiding in the burrow of her daddies’ blankets from a nightmare or a storm outside. 

“I know…it’s okay to be scared,” Tom gently brushed a lock of dark hair from her eyes. 

“Where’s daddy? Where’s Bradley?” Sofia rasped weakly. 

Tom hesitated. One of those questions was far easier to answer than the other. 

Incredibly easy to answer, in fact, as the curtain pulled back and Maverick burst into the room, frantic energy spilling into the space. Though it all froze and cracked the moment he saw their daughter, a pained groan pulled out of him too fast for the hand he brought to his mouth. 

“Oh God…” he began to shake, going pale as he rushed to her other side, “Sofia, sweetheart…”

“She’s gonna be okay,” Tom reached his free hand across to him, feeling the chill of his skin from the bike ride over, “She was just asking for you.”

That seemed to shake Maverick, put solid ground under his feet even if it continued to sway. He took a deep breath, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Sorry, kiddo, I was on base. I came running as soon as I heard. But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

Sofia gave a shaky breath, seeming to relax just from their voices, “I really fucked it up, daddy…”

Maverick gave a weak, thin laugh that was at least better than crying, “Look who you’re talking to, kid. We all burn out one day, I’m just so, so grateful you came through it. You’ll bounce back from this, promise.” 

“How?” Sofia’s eyes filled, shrinking into the tangle of tubes and IVs and gauze that encased her. Tom could only imagine how she felt, her own body invaded by all of these foreign objects, what was left of her broken and burned and battered. 

“I’ll go talk to a nurse…” he murmured, voice small and doubtful, both at the tight grip on his hand and the fact that moving away from Sofia now might just break his heart. 

Salvation came in the form of that curtain moving back again. Tom’s defenses were cracked and crumbling, letting hope slip past unchecked. At the flash of a soot stained, crumpled flight suit, Tom’s first thought was Bradley, like he was just going to wander in, sit down with them and it would be like their little family had never broken. 

But it was someone slightly shorter, blonde hair, clean shaven, a tight and nervous jaw. Someone whose eyes widened at the sight of them and snapped to attention, wrist jerking like he was going to salute on reflex which brought attention to the bandages that swathed his lower arms. It took Tom a moment to place him, something he’d be embarrassed about if his daughter didn’t have third degree burns and smoke inhalation. But it was only a second before it came to him. 

“Jake Seresin,” he croaked in surprise. 

He saw Maverick twitch out of the corner of his eye. He’d never met the young man who’d wandered into the worst day of their lives but he would recognise the name from Tom mentioning it, on those days where it wasn’t too painful to ask how Bradley was doing, when curiosity won out over the grief. He’d know about Bradley’s Jake and how poorly it had ended, just a few months ago. 

“I…sorry, Admiral,” the young man- Hangman, that was his callsign- shifted from one foot to the other, clearly a lieutenant who didn’t take naturally to subordination, ‘I was just talking to the nurse about what’s gonna happen next with Sof…”

Another fact he should have remembered long before now struck Tom. Jake Seresin was his daughter’s wingman. Bradley and Jake had met because of her. 

Things clicked into place for Tom as Jake continued, exhaustion evident in his voice, explaining about cleaning and debriding, antibiotic lotions, grafting, clearly having memorized the entire spiel the nurse gave him. But only one thing mattered to Tom at that moment. 

“You pulled her out,” his voice was weak, rasping, but it stopped Jake in his tracks. 

The young man swallowed hard, “I…she’s my wingman, sir. And…” he looked like there was something large and bitter lodged in his throat, “It’s my fault. I should have been watching for her but she was trying to talk to me about Rooster and I didn’t want to hear it so I left her, I left her there and she didn’t see the bird because she was going after me, I should have-“

His frantic, choked off words were stopped by a hand on his shoulder, a sudden, tight, hard hug. Tom just held him, as fiercely as he wanted to hold his daughter, as he wanted to hold Bradley. He let the kid go fast but he had a look on his face that confirmed something about the Seresin household, something Tom had guessed the first time he’d had dinner with Bradley and this cocky, tight smiling, tense shouldered young pilot. A young pilot who could have had Kazansky or Mitchell on his patch, for how much looking at his face was like looking at one of those old photos from ‘86 on the mantle.

“You pulled her out,” Tom repeated, in a voice that left no room for anything else, “You saved her life.” 

Jake didn’t seem to know what to say to that, just nodding, taking a breath that trembled at the end, “I…I made sure someone called him. Rooster. Phoenix said he’s on his way.”

Tom didn’t need to be looking at his husband to feel how he tensed at that, over where he was still stroking Sofia’s hair. A panicked kind of flinch, like he was a stowaway who wasn’t supposed to be there, scared of being thrown overboard. 

And Jake Seresin did the exact same thing. 

But Tom shook his head, dug his heels in, got stubborn the way only Iceman could. The things threatening his family today were twisted steel and flames and that was more than enough. 

So he dragged another chair over to Sofia’s bedside, gesturing for Jake to sit, “It’ll be fine. Come on. You deserve to be here.”

Jake looked grateful as he slid into it, with the same honest faith Sofia had when he’d promised her it would be okay. Tom stayed close by, murmuring to Sofia in soft Russian, so she could focus on translating it rather than on the agony in her legs. He just let Jake’s stiff, anxious presence beside them become normal. Not filling the hole Bradley left but filling the space around it so there was at least somewhere else to look.

When things were already complicated as hell, what was one more? 

Eventually Sofia slipped into a fitful sleep, if it even really counted as being awake when she was riding the strongest painkillers the hospital had. Tom still kept murmuring to her, just because it soothed the gnawing anxiety in his own chest, until Maverick caught his eye across the bed. 

Tom had always teased Maverick for refusing to grow old, for staying bright eyed and dark haired, seemingly having a different relationship with time and gravity to his husband. Mav had always teased him right back, shrugging and saying he’d always thought gray hair on men was sexy but it was something he’d rather see across from him at the breakfast table tha in the mirror. Looking at him now, it was as if all of those years had caught up with Maverick at once, hunching him over and putting hollows under his eyes, washing him in gray, like Dorothy was still in Kansas. 

“Is this what it’s like?” Maverick croaked, voice rough with the tears he’d been silently crying and the ones on the way, “Every time I burn out and crash and fuck up, this is what it’s like for you?” 

Tom wanted to lie, he wanted to protect Maverick but he knew any lie would stand out a mile. So he just nodded, face sagged in defeat. 

Maverick unsuccessfully swallowed back a sob, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ice…fuck, how did you put up with that?”

Tom shook his head, reaching across their sleeping daughter for his hand, “Hey. Mav, no.”

He wound their fingers together tightly, wishing he could reach enough to brush away the tears streaming down Maverick’s cheeks. He’d seen his husband cry more in the last half hour than he’d seen him cry in the last year. At the touch of their hands, he saw Jake blink and glance around, like he was worried for them, like he was on guard. Tom felt even more sure about his decision to let him stay. 

“It hurts,” Tom murmured, stroking his thumb across his knuckles, “But I’ll say the same thing to you as I’ll say to her. It’s worth it to have you in my life.”

Sofia continued to sleep, deeper now, enough that Tom felt safe to make a supply run to one of the vending machines in the hospital corridors, the identical ones that made it impossible to place where you actually were in the labyrinthine building. He wouldn’t have risked it but he could tell that both Maverick and Jake were struggling. Better that he was the one to wrestle with that quiet moment staring at his own haggard reflection in the glass of the vending machine, currently dispensing some of the worst coffee you could find outside of an aircraft carrier. At least this one was directly outside of the room where Sofia was resting, waiting for her first surgery, Mav and Jake still standing vigil around her like guard dogs. 

And he was even more glad it was him when a tall man hurried past him, clipping Tom’s shoulder in his rush. It was only when Tom turned that he realized that the wide eyed, panicked looking young man was his wide eyed, panicked looking young man. 

“Bradley!” he caught his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, “Hey, hey, kid, it’s okay…”

Bradley’s face collapsed into relief when he saw him, gratefully burying himself against his shoulder, “Uncle Tom…fuck, what happened? Phoenix called and said Sof had crashed?”

“She did but she’s going to be okay,” Tom got as much comfort from the hug as Bradley did, letting it linger a little more than the one he’d given Jake, more certain that Bradley wouldn’t collapse at it, “She’s burned, badly, but they know exactly what to do, they’ll fix her. She’s not going to die.”

Bradley Bradshaw, who’d had far too many of his family already pulled away from him by freak accidents and cold, clinical hospital rooms, clung to that promise, only feeling safe enough to draw out of Tom’s arms once he had it. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all on whatever red eye flight had taken him from base to here, uniform crumpled and lip raw from where he’d bitten it relentlessly. Tom allowed himself a selfish moment to just hold his face in his hands, feel one small spark of joy that he quickly smothered, just to know that the kid was here in front of him rather than on the other end of a phone. 

“It’s going to be bad though…she’s going to hate being grounded,” Bradley’s voice trembled, catching his breath but still looking for something to worry about, something to chew on his lip over. 

“I know…” Tom placed his hands on Bradley’s shoulders, steadying, “We’ll bring her home, she’ll stay with us and we’ll get her back in the air.”

What would happen after that, Tom didn’t want to think about. He wasn’t sure how he was going to let his little girl get in a cockpit again but he would. The same way he did for Maverick, the same way he did for Bradley. 

“Can I go see her?” his dark brown eyes flickered across to the door, seeing her there. 

But he froze, expression hardening, answering his own question. 

Tom winced, hating how familiar he was growing with the feeling of what he wanted being so different from reality. He used to know better, when he was a kid, he used to force some kind of gritted teeth satisfaction with the way his life was. But he’d had that taste of being a father, being an uncle, being a husband, waking up and knowing exactly where everyone he loved was. 

Then Maverick pulled Bradley’s papers and everything had fallen apart. And now Bradley was standing there, seeing the man who’d ruined his life, the young man whose heart he’d broken, the sister he’d left behind, a family he felt like he no longer had a place in. 

Tom put his hand on Bradley’s shoulder, his voice soft, “Hey. It’s okay. Promise.”

Bradley looked at him, terrified, wanting to believe him but unable to ignore the size of the chasm he’d be stepping into. So Tom met his gaze without flinching, hand staying on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Just so he knew he wouldn’t be taking that step alone. 

And by some miracle, the same one he’d been living since the day he became a father, the day he became Bradley’s uncle, his words were enough. 

Tom gave Bradley his seat, closest to Sofia. Mav glanced up, eyes softening a little but he very carefully didn’t say anything, just finding Tom’s hand when he came to stand beside him, squeezing gratefully. Jake followed suit, giving Bradley a nod when their eyes met and quickly danced away, like water flicked on a hot stove. It wasn’t comfortable, not exactly, but it would stand and it would hold. 

Almost like she’d sensed him there, Sofia’s eyelids lifted, bleary vision fixing on her brother. And for the first time since she’d crashed, she managed a smile. 

“You came…hey Brad…” she rasped, “You look like shit.”

“Do I?” Bradley laughed weakly, his eyes filling, “Well you look like someone who just crashed their plane.”

“Strange that,” Sofia found a giggle, poking him lightly with an IV wrapped hand before her voice softened, “Thanks for coming.”

“Come on,” Bradley gave a one-shouldered shrug, “Where else would I be?”

Tom let the tears roll down his cheeks, he wouldn’t close his eyes right now for anything. He just threaded his fingers tighter through Maverick’s and held on like his life depended on it. 

They were broken, they were hurting. 

But they’d heal.

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!” 

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

[carnal-lnstinct]

To Fly Apart, To Reunite

☆☆ Pairing: Raditz x Female Human Reader ☆☆ Content: au. redeemed and adventure-seeking!raditz and career-driven, former z warrior!reader. fluff. little angst. mutual love / pining. established romantic history. friendly teasing. light hurt / comfort. mostly dialogue. reader able to sense ki and fly. referenced dead frieza ☆☆ Insp: choosing career/individual journey over a relationship ☆☆ A/N: That trope jumped out at me and apparently it was for Raditz ♥ Raditz embraces his freedom as a saiyan while his love walks a separate path.

Yajirobe came through just in time. All the supplies were restocked and his minor patches to the structure had been fixed by the good Doctor Brief. Almost everything was ready to go. Raditz tied the small sack of senzu beans to his belt and started to board his ship to depart again.

"Leaving so soon?" Hits his ears before he could duck his head to climb inside his upgraded pod, a gentle, knowing smile growing on his face before he turned around to see you. Trimmed to the teeth in your professional attire and lightly huffing- did you run here for him? You must have masked your energy to try to surprise him, he thought.

"Yeah." Raditz answered, moving to walk back down the ladder towards you as he placed his hands on his hips. "Finally come to see me off for a change. Guess you decided to take me up on my offer?" He quipped. A hint of a conversation that felt distant from the time between then and now, he could make light of it and it made you smile bigger. You pursed your lips with a soft laugh, tilting your head to look at the spaceship behind him.

You shook your head, "Why, so you can finally crash this old thing with your bad karma while I'm in it? No thanks." You teased in return, the heel of your shoes clinking the pavement as you adjust your stance. You preferred your feet on the ground these days, even as uncomfortable as wearing these shoes after a few hours could get. But that is your life now. "I actually just got off work. Just making sure you're not trying to run out without attempting to say goodbye again."

Raditz gave a subtle, guilty shrug and turned his gaze elsewhere. "Guess that explains your outfit. I thought you had a different uniform or something."

"I got prompted a while ago!" You proudly announced. "Now I gotta wear this boring thing, but they're payin' me well for it." Laughing as you gave a little curtsey.

"Moving up in the ranks. That's good- That's what you wanted, right?" He congratulates you, then mocked how the outfit looks nothing like something you would have worn before. "It looks nice on you."

He didn't overlook your other comment though. Raditz didn't purposely drop back into Earth just to avoid you. It could be assumed from the last few times you both spoke, or attempted to after your agreed separation, that there was no true reason to seek each other out anymore. It was all too complicated and you were both too busy with yourselves for a long time to clean up the ugly bits of it. Perhaps the latter was on purpose. Raditz sought to venture into the stars for his own reasons, liberated from the dead weight he was forced to honor and do his own thing for a change. He wanted to see what the universe had to offer him and he had you to share in the glory of it. Eager to explore his new purpose for life with you. And you didn't. You couldn't.

The Earth is all you have ever known and everything you ever wanted, you found it here. You were fulfilled in every aspect of life you could imagine without leaving this planet. Your family is here, all of your adventures with Goku and the others were here, dangers overcoming you and conquered here, and love... it came from far away and found you here. You have responsibilities that need you now- No more or less than your love for Raditz. He's not an earthling so maybe it all came as trivial little things you refused to let go of. But he understood your sense of duty to remain where you are as you understood his desire to be more than what he is. It is your love and understanding that would not allow either of you to hold the other back.

Forcing this notion that it was now set in stone and could not be changed. Leaning into your choices to suppress the hurt, swallowing your pride, and allowing what will be.

In the end, you both got what you wanted.

"I know where to find you if a goodbye is all you wanted." Raditz spoke up to break the small silence and looked down at you as you wandered around to the side of the ship. "You said it yourself, you're not going anywhere."

"Actually, I am." You addressed casually. You look over to the surprised look on his face and explained further. "-Moving, is all! I'm moving. I found a place closer to work so I'll be moving there soon." Without thought, Raditz moved off the ladder and walked up to you ready to offer his services.

"By yourself? Who's helping you move all your stuff?"

"I got a guy."

"-A guy?!" He shouted and took a handful of his hair looking more worried at you for more answers. You could see every question he wanted to ask in his face and it made you snort. In a way, reassuring..

"You're worrying about the wrong stuff, Raditz. It's a professional moving company- A recommendation, even. I would never..." You caught your words and cleared your throat, pursing your lips again before nervously laughing it off. "Um, I'm just-... Not familiar with the people coming, but I trust Krillin's word."

Ah, then he has embarrassed himself. You catch the tinge of color in his face before he rights his posture and turns away to hide it. "R-Right, of course! That's good then!"

"Thank you." You giggled. It fell silent again and you figured you best not cling to avoid saying anything embarrassing yourself. "Well, I won't keep you. It was good to see you again, Raditz."

"-Wait." Raditz spun around, halting you in your steps. He reaches into the lining of his chestplate and pulls out a string, you immediately recognize it as a broken hair tie. Your brow furrows and you sigh.

"Another one? Seriously?"

"It wasn't my fault this time, it snapped in battle." He pointed out, watching as you swung your purse out in front of you and dug inside it. You wrap a ribbon around your finger and motion for him to follow you, walking up the inclined ladder of the space pod just enough that you could stand higher than he did. Raditz turned his back to you and started to gather up his hair. Once his larger hands held it all in place, you stretched the ribbon around, knotting it once and wrapping it again until you could secure the ends under. You smoothed his hair back with your hands and added a hair tie to held hold his ponytail in place.

"Here's an extra one, don't lose it." You dug out another one and reached over his shoulder for his hand to take it. Impossible for his larger fingers to not stroke yours as he did and they are still as rough as you remembered. You can only imagine what kind of trouble they find out there. Raditz's touch finds you again, resting on top of your other hand and surprising you when you realized it lingered on his shoulder a moment too long. Softly breathing, you pull away and move to sit on the ladder.

"Don't-... Try to keep out of situations you can't handle out there." You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, staring down. "If the Frieza Force really is still the problem you say they are, I know you can handle it. But ya know...Super Saiyan or not, don't get-"

"Now who's worrying." He interrupted you with a teasing grin. He won't pretend to know how you know what he's doing off-world, but he's sure the nosiest of Brief scientists has something to do with it.

"I mean it." You pushed, clutching your hands in your lap and looking up at the long ponytail before you. "I do worry, still. If anything was to happen to you... I don't know... If I can handle it, you know? You're out there all alone while we're all here on Earth. By the time we can do anything about it-" Raditz turns around to you as you wiped your face and sighed deeply. "We don't know what else is out there."

"Hm...Well then, that's enough for me." He turns his gaze up to the changing scenery, the deep orange sky shifting to shades of purple and blue. Earth, too, just as peaceful as he remembers it. "It's where I want to be. More like where I'm needed right now, really." Raditz turns back to you, tail swaying calmly behind him as he places his hand on your shoulder and leans over closer. "Just because Frieza's dead doesn't mean his influence and the scum still loyal to him are not a big deal. Someone's gotta clean them up. If anything out there is worse than that, then I'll have the tactical advantage over it on its own turf." He reassured, tilting your head up to look at him.

There was more than enough standing forces on Earth to deal with anything that slips by, including Kakarot and Vegeta, so he could handle the rest. The known threat to the universe.

"Wait a minute- are you thinking little of me again? I'll have you know my power has exceeded beating the crap out of Frieza's pathetic leftover minions." Raditz playfully jeered you, flexing his other arm to show off for you. You couldn't help but laugh, reaching to hold the bulging muscle in both your hands.

"I can tell." You agreed. Jealous that saiyans could do the bare minimum and maintain such a marvelous physique, but even improve little by little from it too. Something out there is keeping him in shape. To tease further, you poked a finger into the side of his armor. "You even look a little chubbier since I last saw you. My little Raditz is still growing. I'd up the gravity in there if I were you."

"Hey!" Flashing his temper as he swatted your hand away, making you burst out laughing harder.

"Kidding! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You pleaded through your unflattering laughter trying to calm yourself. Leaning against him as you did so. "It's just... you've really grown. I'm proud of you, Raditz. Proud that we seem to be right where we want to be. We're alright."

"Yeah...we are." He smiles, taking hold of your hand. That grip made you want to spill your whole heart, but you clutched it all inside tight. Something in his lingering gaze set your nerves at ease. And yet, you are tempted to live in the comfort of the past again. 'I miss you', you wanted to say, 'I want to take it back'. You wanted to feel his lips without asking just like before.

Instead, you pull yourself away and slide off the side of the ladder onto your feet. "Well, I've embarrassed myself for the day. I better let you go. I do have to get ready for work tomorrow." You quickly step away from the ship, just enough to not be completely in the way when it takes off.

Raditz, clutching his empty hands, floats back up to the ladder and returns to the threshold of the ship. He looks back over his shoulder toward you. "You know I'll be back when it's all over!" He shouts.

"I know!" You called back, smiling warmly. "I'll be waiting! We will be seeing each other again soon." You waved him off. "Kick some ass in the meantime."

Raditz smiles over his shoulder and ducks into his pod. "You too."

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Faking Sleep to Count Your Breath

Thank you to @darqchilddaydreamz for your help with this.

Can be read as part four of the Give Me Shelter series or as stand-alone.

Contains: So much angst, like all of it. All the fluff, soft Happy, loving Happy, gentle Happy, soft smut (fingering, P in V)

2.1K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #give me shelter.

You see a side to Happy to hoped you never would.

"Come to T-M, Happy's hurt."

The text from Tig had you racing out of the office with your portable med bag in hand. You were used to stitching up animals, but sometimes you chipped in to help Chibs. When you tried to call, you got nothing and it was the same for the other Sons.

Worry filled your chest as you raced to the compound, you were meant to have dinner with his mum and aunt that weekend. It had become a Sunday night event, Happy would put on his best shirt, which he would get you to pick out for him and then splurge on something expensive, spend some of the night fixing their house up and the rest spending time with you and his family eating and talking.

It made sense that something had happened, the Club was dealing with a lot and had called in visiting chapters to help. It wasn't that you didn't like the others Sons, it was just that some of them had a problem with you. You hoped to God this wasn't going to make it worse, a handful of the visiting men had opinions about old ladies that weren't exactly kind. But Nevertheless, you headed to the compound and prayed you got there in time.

You got to T-M and jumped out of the car, you could hear voices coming out of the garage; before you could consider why no one was around, you were opening the door. The air had the reek of death to it, a mix of blood and other body fluids. And the smell of burnt flesh was like a blanket, a foul combination of cheap, old pork and sweetness that stuck like putrid glue.

"Oh my God." You slapped your hands to your face at the sight. Happy was standing over a man tied to a chair, his body cut up and bloody. There was a red hot blow torch on the table and a handful of tools. It was like watching a horror movie, you were pretty sure you could see his teeth on the table.

They all turned around, Tig going to step in front of you so you couldn't take in any more of the horrific sight. The man turned to you, his eyes wide, "help me please, miss, please help me."

"What are you going here?"

You were in shock, "you texted me and told me Happy was hurt."

The chair creaked, "please help me, you have to get me out of here. These people are crazy and they're going to kill me."

It was like time slowed as Happy met your eyes, "I'm fine little girl, you should go now."

You blinked and time slowed, you knew that man was there for a reason, but you felt unable to move. You knew what Happy did for the Club but never wanted to see it, not for fear that you'd stop loving him but for fear you would see something you couldn't unsee, or worse, that you betray your morals because you loved him.

"I'll be waiting in the Clubhouse for you." You turned on your heels and walked away, trying to block the man's pleas from your ears and your soul.

You were nursing a glass of Juice when Happy came in, you didn't meet his eye as he sat down next to you. He smelt clean so he must have washed the blood off of him before coming to talk to you, "who was he?"

Happy grunted, "I need to know Hap, I can't make a decision without all the details." He looked at you and for a moment, you were afraid of him, "I'll never go to the cops, you don't need to worry about that. I just need to know if he deserved what was happening to him."

Happy grunted, "why would you bring up the cops?"

You had dug yourself in a hole now, "I just walked in on you torturing a man, any sane person would have run to the station the moment they left."

Happy swallowed, "he shot up CaraCara, Tina and Ima are at St Thomas."

You huffed, "is he dead?" Happy nodded, "good, he deserved it."

He cast his glance at you, "where do we go from here?"

You shrugged, "you need to find out who did this, I wouldn't have come if I didn't get that text."

He nodded, "we're looking into it, Juice did some digging on Tig's phone and found the deleted text." The air was tight, "that's not what I meant. I meant where do you and I go from here?"

You huffed, "I don't know Hap, I thought you were badly hurt and when I went to help you, I walked in on you opening up a man's skin. This isn't about what I saw or what you did, this is about me being able to choose what I expose myself to, and someone took that choice away from me today."

Happy swallowed, "this isn't about what you saw?"

You shook your head, "no Hap, it's not. I know what you do, people talk and I'm a good listener, plus isn't wasn't an animal so I don't really care. He hurt innocent women. He got what was coming to him."

Happy nodded, "I'll deal with whoever sent the text."

Something had changed, he wouldn't look at you, "what's going on in your head?"

He shrugged, "nothing, you should go home, I'll be there later."

His tone was distant, "alright, you want me to wait up?"

He shook his head, "nah, you've had a long day."

You stood up from the chair but he was stiff when you went to kiss him goodbye, some part of you felt like this was the end.

Happy wasn't home that night, nor the next night. He still sent you a good night and good morning I love you text but that was all the contact you had. You thought about going to T-M but if Happy wasn't coming home, it meant he needed space and you weren't going to take that away from him.

It took two days for him to come home, he walked in the door and hugged you, his face soft. "We need to talk."

You felt your heart skin, "alright, you want to do it now or after dinner?"

His face became neutral, the only indication of emotion was what was swirling behind his eyes, "now."

He followed him to the table and sat down, Happy wasn't looking at you, he was looking behind you. "We're done."

His tone was flat but his voice caught hitched at the end, "what do you mean we're done, you've been gone for three days and now you just turn up and tell me we're finished, don't I get a say in this?"

His eyes met yours for a flash, they were red, "it doesn't matter what you want, I can't trust my brothers around you anymore. It's not safe for you to be with me."

Now you were pissed, "you don't get to decide that, this is my life too. I get to decide what's safe for me and what's not, not you."

His eyes fell to the ground, "please don't fight me on this, it's what's best."

You huffed, "no, you are not throwing away years of a loving relationship just because you got uncomfortable." You stood up, "grow the fuck up, you don't get to decide anything for me."

You stomped away, "I'm going for a walk, when I come back you better have your head on straight, or we are over."

Happy hated the silence in the house, every passing minute without you there was hell. The truth was, he couldn't stand life without you but the thought of you getting hurt was killing, he knew deep down you would still love him after what you saw but he didn't know if he was prepared to receive it. He kept looking at the door, he had no idea how he was going to apologise for all of this but he would get down on his knees and beg if he had to.

The door opening had his feet moving before his brain could react, he wrapped his arms around you, his heart racing as you went stiff, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to." He felt like his world was caving in around him, but then you wrapped your arms around his body and released into his embrace.

"There's no need for that my love, just don't do it again because if you ever think you had make those kinds of decisions for me again, I will leave."

Happy nodded aggressively, the tears finally falling. "I promise, you have my word I will never pull anything like that as long as I live."

You sighed, "good, then we're good, on one condition."

He swallowed, he'd do whatever it was, "anything, name it." There was a pause, "if you want me to turn in my patch right now I'll do it."

You stepped back, "oh no, I would never ever ask you to do that. I love you too much to ask you to let go of something that matters so much to you."

He relaxed, "then what?"

You smiled, "you start talking to me about the Club. I need to know what's going on Hap. If I had known more I would have tried to find out more before I ran to T-M."

"Done, I'll tell you everything. I show you pictures if you want."

You giggled, "I don't need pictures, just keep me in the loop. Also, to make it up to me, you're going to be giving our foster kittens their poop baths for the next few rounds."

He smiled, "done, I'll wash their poopy butts for the rest of my life if that's what you want."

You reached up and took his face in your hands, "are you better now?"

He nodded and leaned down, kissing you softly, "nothing could be bad when you're with me." The air changed as you met eyes, then he was kissing you again. It was heating this time, his hands gripping you like you were going to slip through his fingers.

It took four steps for you to fall back onto the couch, Happy falling on top of you as his hands tore at your clothes, "do you want this?"

You nodded, "please." His hands touch each tiny bit of skin revealed as he removes your clothes, your hands running over his abs and to his face after he removed his shirt. You went to his jeans next, pulling off his belt before unzipping his jeans and pulling them down with his boxers.

His hand found your core in a flash, his fingers running through your wetness as his thumb found your clit. He kissed you hard as he slid two fingers inside you, his fingertips rubbing your G-spot just right. "Happy please, I need you."

He kissed your neck, nibbling on your skin, "I don't want to hurt you little girl."

You huffed, "you're not going to hurt me, I want you inside me now."

He pulled back and stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking you off them before taking his cock in his hands and rubbing it up and down your slit, "you sure?"

You nodded, "yes, I'm sure." He groaned as he slid inside you, your fingernails digging into his back as he gave you time to adjust to his size. "Move please." Happy was powerless to resist your begging, his hips moving in a slow and gentle grind that had you burying your face in his warm neck.

His lips found yours again, the kiss was slow and filled his love, one hand moving to rub your clit while the other rested on the couch, his chest pressed to yours. His hips sped up and the kiss turned from soft to passionate and tinged with teeth. You shared your breath as he moaned into his mouth, "please Hap, I'm so close."

His lips moved back to your neck, Happy speaking against your skin, "cum for me little girl."

He grunted as you contracted around him, his forehead dropping onto yours, "there you go, my good girl." He followed you closed behind, spraying your insides as he collapsed onto you. "I love you so much."

You smiled and kissed him again, "I love you too Happy, my life was do miserable without you in it."

He smiled, "well I'm not going anywhere."

Fin

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers x Reader || Drabbles

Plots/Includes: Basically, you play with their hair.

Billy Loomis: You shampoo it, because goddamn, that boy's hair is greasy.

Human!Chucky Lee Ray: You convince him to let you trim it. And he's like a spooked horse about it.

Human!Freddy Krueger: You get up early in order to beat the grease- in other words, you sacrifice a sleep-in, in order to catch Freddy before he slicks his hair back. *Note. This is set in the slither of time between being an adult and meeting Loretta*

Warnings: Nooo, it's fluffff. Okay, well, sexual references and swearing. But that's still pretty tame for these guys!!

Writing the Billy one was actually therapeutic XDD That boys hair deeply irritates me- how can he look so good with greasy hair and I look like I've been through the apocalypse+multiple nuclear explosions??? Its not fair. Stupid Billy. Huff.

Billy Loomis:

"I imagined this... different... Y/N... "

"Hey I can put on porn in the other room, but that's as close as you're getting, to 'different'." You reply, sniggering as Billy rolls his eyes and you set a bottle of coconut smelling shampoo on the bench by the sink.

Giving out a groan, your boyfriend huffs; Looking every bit a teenage toddler, and it just makes you giggle more. He tries not to smirk at getting a laugh from you. "Forget it."

"Yeahhh, I figured you'd say that... " You shake your head, a grin on your lips. You just love these moments, with just you and Billy. Don't get it wrong- you love Stu. But it sometimes feels like Billy's married to him and you're his piece of side ass, so rare times like these when Stu the socialite is off on a date, or is hanging out with his cool friends - which you and Billy are not, apparently, - just reinforce the fact that you hold your own special spot in Billy's heart. maybe equal to Stu rather then stronger, but that's A-Okay with you. As long as you're there.

And spending time alone with your boyfriend is just nice, in general.

Plus- today- you get to fix his hair! Sure, it'll be greasy again in a few days but you plan to enjoy it as much as you can, while you can! And Stu will like it, too of course.

Picking up the towel you had handed him earlier when you were setting up to clean his hair in the sink and he set in his lap, Billy cranes his head to look up at you, a question in look on his face. "Is this here for a reason?"

"Oh, yeah- that is going... here." You say, taking the towel from him and wrapping it over his shoulders. "So I don't get your shirt wet- though, that may not be a bad thing. It may be its first ever exposure to soap and water- "

"Fuck, my hair, my clothes- is there anything about me you are happy with?" You can tell that he's joking, by the mischievous glint in his dark eyes - a heartstoppers eyes, Tatum once commented off hand. And you have to agree, - and slight turn up of the right corner of his mouth.

You don't respond right away, letting the words hang in the air for a few moments as you thoughtfully run your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him. "Well... " Sitting down in his lap like its casual, because it is - when he became your boyfriend he became your personal walking, talking recliner chair and there is nothing he could do about it, - , you tuck some strands of hair greasy brown hair behind his ear slowly, as he puts his hands on your thighs as he looks up at you waiting attentively for an answer.

Leaning down the rest of the way, you connect your lips with his and he reciprocates the kiss immediately, and this is yet another reason its great when Stu isn't around- you too can make-out without him yelling COOTIES.

After a few moments, you pull back, and from beneath half-lidded eyes you gaze down at him... parting your lips to say something quietly to him.

Then promptly pull back, and shrug. "... To be honest you are a bit of a fixer-upper."

As you get off him, slipping out of his hold, and return to the sink, silently laughing with a big grin on your face, Billy puts on a show of guffaw-ing at you- fake shocked at your words. "Ohhh...!" He clutches his heart, and sparks a real chuckle from you, as you turn on the water. "My self-esteem is shattered now, I hope you know that. Its your fault."

"We'll find a way to survive- now tip your head back?"

He does as he's told, giving you a look now that he can see you again. "... You're lucky you're a good kisser."

You plant a peck on his lips, picking up the shampoo bottle. "Okay, now, this ain't gonna hurt a bit baby so don't be scared. I'll take care of you."

"Ha ha... "

Getting his hair all wet first is lots of fun, - and you have to admit that with wet hair like this Billy looks pretty damn good, - and when Billy complains that he isn't a Ken doll, you flick water at him. No, you say. Ken would never let his hair get like this. And if he did, Barbie would kick him onto the streets rather then help him like this so shut up.

He called you cute for that.

Finally you squirt out a good dollop of shampoo directly onto his head and roll up your sleeves. He smirks. "Getting down to it now?"

"Yes, who knows what kind of counterattack your head might throw back at me."

Running your fingers through his hair and over his scalp to make sure that you get every tuft foamed up, its not long before you catch his eyes drifting closed, and his shoulders relaxing as he tries to get comfortable. A gentle smile perks at your lips, seeing him.

From the little shutting down noise he makes to the way he crosses his arms over his chest like a snoozy old cowboy, you cant help but think from the bottom of your heart- that he's cute.

You refuse entirely to let this be over too quickly, not that Billy is at all complaining either, so you take your time massaging in the shampoo. Playing with his hair gently, spreading it out and making horns with it like you're absolutely 3 years old and grinning about it - especially when you catch him smirking, too, with his eyes closed, - , raking it back with your fingernails in such a way that his lips part.

... Eventually, you run your bottom lip though your teeth, and sigh. "Okay Billy... time to wash it out." You say gently, not wanting to drag him too far from his relaxed place but just warning him, still. He gives a little nod, adjusting his back against his chair.

Holding a folded rag against his forehead, you use a cup to wash out the suds from his hair slowly, until they're all gone. Then you carefully lower yourself into his lap again and slip the towel from around his shoulders, as he opens his eyes, shaking his head a bit to wake up; Putting his hands back on your hips. Like they're meant to be there, like that's their natural position.

You dry his hair, and when you pull the towel away its a fluffy, crazy mess atop his head and makes you feel very warm inside- and he sighs, seeing your expression. "What? Adorable?"

"Precious."

"Ughh... " He shakes his head at you, a teasing grin on his lips as he rolls his eyes. "Damnit."

Human!Chucky Lee Ray:

You love Chucky's hair, you do! It completes his look and makes him happy so you'll assure him its hot as many times as he wants you to- but...

Yes, theirs a but.

But... he doesn't take care of it. He uses that shampoo-and-conditioner-in-1, never gets the split ends removed, and honestly- rarely brushes the hell out of it. Which all results in it being rough, and full of split ends.

So here you are, trying to convince him to let you take... the scissors (GASP. Yes, you know already. With Chucky, that's a dirty word) to it; An idea that he isn't thrilled about... obviously.

"Come on, just the tips!!"

A cackle that you're all-too-familiar with bleeds out of him, and you already know what he's about to respond with- so promptly let out a vicious and frustrated groan; Throwing your head back against your seats headrest. You're just glad he didn't take his eyes off the road in front of you both; Or his hands off his wheel in order to make some obscene gesture. "Now that's what he said, don'tcha think?"

Twisting around in your seat the best you can as the - stolen, plate-less, struggling, - car is racing down the highway, you groan and search around with your hands for something. "There has to be a gun around here somewhere for me to put myself out of my misery with... " When you don't find one, you turn back with a deep frown to stupid smirking Chucky. "Or you."

"Keep talking to me like that doll and we might have to pull over," He advises, flashing you a wink; To which you sigh.

"Please, Chucky, I just want to cut off the split ends! You'll barely notice the difference in length. And the blades will barely come near your face."

At that, the insinuation that the reason he's so against this is because he's scared - which he absolutely is, -, he flashes you a dark glare through those radioactive blues.

You just raise your brows back at him, mouth pulled tightly against your cheeks in a goading expression. Like, just try it, Chucky. Tell me you're not a chicken shit, go ahead. Just 3 little words and I'll give it up.

He doesn't see the full force of your stare, but the side of his face prickles and, after a moment, a deep and guttural groan escapes him and you watch his shoulders drop in glee. You win! "Fine... but just the tips."

"That's my boy," You giggle, settling back in your seat as he rolls his eyes upwards.

~

Now, you have Chucky sullenly sat down in a chair in the little crappy kitchen of your apartment, coat discarded on the couch and so far you're just brushing his hair. Working out all the knots, you're pleasantly surprised that he doesn't complain much about the pain like you expected; Just sits there with his arms crossed, grumbling about getting his hair cut. Asking how he thought you liked his hair?

Sighing, you run the brush once more through a particular section after finally-finally, detangling a particular bad knot. "I do like your hair, but you don't know how to take care of it!"

"Oh, so you don't like me then?"

At that you roll your own eyes, lean to the side and guide him to look back to you sitting behind him, and say; "I love you."

Predictably he looks away immediately, and sighs, grumbling about you not playing fair, and not playing along, but you catch the little tiny grin on his face too, and giggle.

While he's not paying attention, you take the scissors up from your lap and set down the brush where they were, picking up a strand of hair- and start snipping; Talking to cover up the sound. "So what kinda reward do you want for being such a good boy, Chuck?" You tease. "We could go to the movies and see that new Disney movie? I could get you a piece of candy next time we're at the shops?- "

"Pfft. This warrants a whole fucken shelf if anything, Y/N." Chucky suddenly quips, making you snort at him taking it seriously... and thinking that this, makes him deserving of a whole shelf of convenience store candy. Damn, he's getting his hair trimmed- not fighting off the whole damn Hun army. "... But I had something else in mind."

"Of course you did." Shaking your head, you make your way through his hair- the havana wisps floating down to make a little pile on the kitchen tiles.

"Of course I did," He mimics, proud of himself. "... In fact, why don't I give you a preview, huh?"

Your eyes widen and your body stiffens, putting a halt to your snipping. "- What?"

He doesn't move immediately, so you hurriedly keep cutting, trying to get it all done before he inevitable gets up- but slowly, now, so he hopefully doesn't hear you. Oh jeez, oh jeez!-

"Uh, no. No. That'll mess up your hair and I'll have to start all over again!!" You exclaim, chewing on your bottom lip as you focus entirely on getting the air cut neatly- and you're doing pretty damn well, if you ask yourself!

"I say we burn that bridge when we get to it. Lets take a few minute break, lets say... sixty-nine?" At that, of course the dumb bastard starts laughing- cackling, and you have to be careful not to stab him in the spine with the movement, almost drawing blood from your lip as you silently keep going, eyes focused.

Luckily you get most of the rest done while Chucky's doing his evil perverted laughter bit, but then he suddenly stands!-

You follow up, cutting the final bit - maybe a little bit unevenly, but who could tell? He's just going to mess it up again 2 minutes from now. Or you will... - and let out a little 'Aha!'- when suddenly Chucky turns around.

... And catches you red handed, scissors still in one hand and cut up hair all over the floor. "Uhh- " Quickly, and fruitlessly, you hide the scissors behind your back as icy hues narrow down at you. "Um... Good news! You're all done!"

"- The fuck, Y/N!?"

"You didn't feel, anything!!"

"That's not the point!"

"Err... " You avert your gaze from his, running your bottom lip through your teeth... the picture of guilt.

Chucky walks forward then, backing you into a wall until your back touches it and you can step away from him no further. He leans into your face, then, intense and unnerving eyes burning into yours; A smirk perks at one corner of his mouth. "I feel violated."

"Uh- well- " Cheeks heating up at the close proximity and the pointed way he's speaking to you, you try - uselessly, - to talk some sense into him. "To be fair, it was just hair- "

He stops, then. Everything. Smirking slightly, talking, rearing closer... for a full horrifying moment, he doesn't move. You don't know what's happening, you don't know what he's thinking-

Before finally a broad grin stretches across his face and you feel relief and embarrassment flush your chest and up your throat at his words. "Damn, you're hot when you're scared of me- "

"Chucky!" You exclaim, pissed off at your horrible boyfriend and land a fist firmly against his shoulder before trying to slip by and storm off, but he catches you by the arms and shoves you back to the wall, before fury slips too-easily into lust as he kisses the shit out of you and you cant help dragging him closer... and you tell yourself, you'll tell him off later.

Human!Freddy Krueger:

"Ugh... " Usually, when you feel the bed shift and turn a little colder as Freddy gets up, you go swiftly back to sleep. He has to get up early for work, but you don't, and you take full advantage of that fact. You would just pull more blankets up and around you, roll over and relax again for another hour and a half.

But not today. No, not today. You promised yourself last night that you would not give in to the temptation this morning- because you want something. And soon it will be too late.

So, groaning and struggling, you push your torso off the mattress, feeling cold when the blanket slips off of you despite the tartan button up you wore as pyjamas, so you collect the blanket - eyes still closed, - and pull it tight around you. Gingerly, you touch your feet to the hardwood floor and thank god you're wearing cosy socks. Slowly standing up, your open your eyes carefully to glance at the alarm clock; Just squinting at the too-early hours. "... fuck... "

Then, the sound of water running suddenly rings in your ears and you jump- rushing around the bed and flinging the adjoining bathroom door open. Wait wait wait!- "Hold up! Stop! Not yet!"

Freddy, hand still on the shower faucet, tilts his head inquisitively at you when you see him. "What?- " Despite him not moving away at all, you throw yourself at him; Wrapping your arms over his shoulders. He looks down at you in a bemused sort of way, slowly restricting around your waist with one arm while the other does nothing at all to acknowledge you. "... Desperate, or something?" A vulgar smirk plays at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyes have already flickered past his face to your objective- his. Hair.

Its blonde, and soft, and a little curly, and since you've caught him before the shower- its fluffy, too. Because he hasn't had a chance to slick it back yet. So instead of dignifying Freddy's dumb words with a response you outright ignore him, resting your elbows on his shoulders and spreading your fingers through his hair; Blanket around your shoulders slipping to the ground. "Hm!~"

"Hmmm?" He mimics, and draws it out like a purr at the feeling of your fingertips affectionately scraping over his scalp; Tilting his head to the side as he gazes down curiously at you. "What?"

"I just dunno what I'm gonna do when you go totally bald." Joking, you gesture to his already-receding hair line with your eyes, a playful smirk pulling easily at the corners of your mouth.

Freddy rolls his eyes, but he likes it when you're mischievous and you both know it. "Not gonna happen. I'll sell my soul before that happens, doll." You snort.

"Hmm, well I mean as long as you have some kinda plan."

He smirks lazily, looking like he's being lulled back to sleep by your ministrations to his hair. It makes you grin. For all the stupid, gross talk he spews, he can be oddly cute. "Is this how we're spending our morning? Because I can think of a couple other positions I might prefer... "

"Hehe, " You giggle, before sniffing and shaking your head, biting your bottom lip. "You have to go to work."

"Only if we want to keep the house." He says it like its no big deal, like he'd much prefer to stay back here with you instead of 'keep this house' and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Well if that's the only thing on the line... " A slow grin spreads across your face as you lean in, his hair whispering softly through your fingers... before you step back, pulling your body out of his grip and clap your hands down on his shoulders, instead. "Nah. Go take your shower."

He groans, like you're oh-so-cruel, giving you a look that reads as much. You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest now.

Freddy raises his brows, after a moment. "So... are you gonna join me, or are you just gonna watch?"

You giggle again, dipping down the collect your blanket back up and wrap it back around as his follow your and stepping back towards the door. "I'm gonna make up some breakfast. Have fun with your left hand and tell it hi for me, see ya later."

Turning out of the room, you patter down the hallway towards the stairs, before rushing back and sticking your head into the room again as he's just feeling for the temperature of the water. "Could you not slick your hair this time??"

"You don't get to have your cake and eat it too, Y/N."

"Damn."

[darling-i-read-it]

The Raven

Takeshi Kovacs x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: murder, insinutations to smut, injuries, drinking

Author’s Note: he !!!!!!!! HE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway enjoy

I was gonna wait to post this but I feel like you guys deserve it so here you go lmao

Summary: You and Takeshi both stay at the Raven and get to know each other.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You ran your hand through your hair as you stepped into the Raven. You held your side, feeling the blood seep through your fingers. Poe materialized behind the counter, his eyebrow raised.

“What happened to you?” he asked curiously. You shrugged, a weak smile on your face.

“Nothing that won’t be fixed with a hot shower and a glass of bourbon,” you said through gritted teeth. Poe nodded and walked around the desk and over to the bar. You leaned against the counter, trying not to bleed all over it as you waited.

“Should I provide medical assistance?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I can handle myself.” Poe walked back over to you and handed you the glass. You took it and downed it in one drink. The liquid stung your throat as it always did but it was a welcome feeling after everything you had been through. “I’ll be taking that shower now,” you said as you put the glass down. You were about to turn when you noticed Poe’s face. He looked like he was trying to muster the courage to tell you something. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” he said much too quickly. That meant one thing. There was something that might make you want to leave. You raised an eyebrow.

“Spit it out Poe.” He let out a sigh.

“I have another guest.” You scoffed.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t be so surprised. I run a very nice establishment.” You nodded. You had been the only customer at the Raven for months. It started as just wanting to go under the radar then you ended up liking it there. No one ever came. Poe was good company. You paid a monthly fee instead of a nightly one, he liked you so much.

“Anyone I should know?” you asked, wondering if it was one of your old enemies out to get you here. You hoped it wasn’t. You had no desire to leave. You would have to find a whole new space and you had grown comfortable here.

“No unless you keep friends with Envoys.” Your eyes opened wide and you forgot about the pain in your abdomen.

“An Envoy here? Well Poe, I can’t say you’re boring,” you said and then the pain was back. “As much as I would love to learn more, I really have to stitch this. What room are they in?”

“I can’t disclose that information,” he said. You scoffed, pushing yourself off the desk you were leaning on.

“Come on Poe.”

“I can’t. It’s in my mainframe.” You rolled your eyes.

“Are they on my floor?” He thought about it for a moment and then nodded gently, giving in.

“He is.” You smiled to yourself.

“He. Good to know.” You started to walk toward the elevator. “See you tomorrow Poe!” He waved to you, a fond smile on his face. He wondered if you would like Takeshi. He laughed quietly in the empty room. Takeshi would like you. He didn’t like many people but he imagined Takeshi would quite like you.

====

You brushed through your wet hair gingerly, still in pain from the stitches you had given yourself. Thankfully it wasn’t anything bad. You imagined it wouldn’t bother you at all in a couple months. You looked out the large window in your room and put your hair brush down. You deserved a few hours of shut eye. Maybe you could even sleep in tomorrow if no one came in to try and kill you.

Your mind lingered on the Envoy you were sharing a building with. You didn’t think any existed anymore.

You were about to shut the blinds down so the night sky couldn’t be seen anymore when you noticed something. Smoke. You took your hand off the blinds button and walked to the far side of the window, squinting.

Cigarette smoke coming from the building. So close it probably came from the room next to you. You scoffed. Poe put the Envoy in the room next to you. You imagined him, trying to picture what he may look like. A deadly killer.

You smiled gently to yourself and closed the blinds.

=====

Takeshi shrugged on his pants. The girl Poe had sent up had left ages ago but he had just now gotten around to putting his clothes back on. Tak ran his hand through his hair, taking a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it. He stared out into the city around him, watching the lights turn on in the buildings. The sun had just risen.

The room was so silent he heard the door open next door and shut closed. He perked up. He figured he was the only person staying in the Raven. What kind of person would stay here? Other than him.

He blew out some smoke and walked to the door, opening it without a second thought. You were walking down the hall away from him. He caught only the back of you as you turned the corner.

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way. Let me at least eat breakfast,” you said into the phone you were holding up. Breakfast. That sounded good. He was pretty sure Poe would make him a complimentary breakfast if he asked.

He tossed on a shirt and jacket as he put out his cigarette before going to the elevator. He found you were still waiting, the door opening only as he approached. He had figured he would get a better look at you downstairs but in the elevator was fine too. You hung up the phone and stepped in. He soon followed, making you jump.

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes. The Envoy. He looked uninterested. But handsome. You had to imagine that wasn’t actually his actual sleeve but the one picked out for him had been a good one.

You hit the button for the first level. The doors closed.

“I didn’t think anyone else was staying here,” he said. Even his voice was enticing. You shrugged.

“I was here first.” He smiled a bit.

“Why are you staying at an AI-run hotel?”

“Why are you?” He nodded. He wasn’t getting an answer. That was fine. “Y/N,” you said, not offering a last name. You had to force yourself not to look at him. He thought about giving you only his last name, as he tended to do with people he didn’t trust.

“Takeshi.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing Poe on the other side waiting for you both. His eyes went wide.

“Friends already?” he asked. You scoffed.

“How many rooms does this place have Poe? You could have put us on separate floors at least,” you said, walking forward. Takeshi stepped out as well.

“I like to keep you close in case help is needed.”

“Why would help be needed?” Takeshi asked. Poe eyed him. You eyed both of them. Whatever Takeshi was here for, you imagined it was dangerous.

“Well you’re both high class people. I’m being precautious,” Poe said.

“Breakfast?” you asked Takeshi. He had things to do. He had things to do. He had to leave this place and go find answers, manipulate people, understand the world around him. He didn’t need breakfast.

“I like my eggs over easy.” Poe nodded, smiling.

He knew Takeshi would like you.

====

You had been trying to just go about your day of crime, not think about some man. That wasn’t your style. You didn’t dwell on anything. You couldn’t afford to. You had jobs to do, people to get rid of.

But Takeshi and you had a nice breakfast. Neither of you gave much up about yourselves but it was nice. Talks of the weather, joking about Poe. Simple things.

You walked back into the Raven that night late, like you usually did. You didn’t have any injuries this time around, thankfully. You holstered your gun when you walked in and smiled at Poe.

“You look much better today,” he commented.

“I am. No need for stitches.”

“Your companion doesn’t look as good,” Poe commented offhandedly. You squinted.

“My com-” You scoffed. “Takeshi is not my companion. We just stay at the same hotel,” you explained.

“And share eggs.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Came back today looking awful. Though I’m not allowed to let anyone up in his room myself.”

“I never asked you to let me into his room.” You met Poe’s eyes. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You rode the elevator up to your floor. You walked down the hallway and paused at your door. You put your hand on the handle and kept it there for a moment. Takeshi didn’t need you to help clean up his messes. Breakfast had been fine but it had been brief.

You looked over at his door.

“Damn Poe,” you whispered to yourself, sure he could hear you somehow. You walked to Takeshi's door and knocked. There was some light shuffling and then the door opened. He was standing shirtless before you, a stitching needle in his arm as it bled.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“According to Poe, it’s you I can help,” you said. You gestured to the half stitched injury. “I’m pretty good at that if you want company that isn’t an AI desperate to tear your pants off.” He thought about it for a second. You figured he would turn you down. He didn’t need your help, you knew that. He was perfectly capable. But you had to ask.

He opened the door further and you nodded once, stepping inside. You hadn’t seen any other rooms but yours. It looked like the exact same, minus some touches. He had out bandages and things on the table. He sat down at the chair and you sat down in the one beside him.

“I’ve never been good at stitching,” he admitted.

“We all have our faults,” you said quietly. You scooted the chair closer to him so you could get a better look. Your knee was between his leg and his knee was between yours. You tried not to focus on it. You ran your finger over his bicep and took the needle from him. “What happened?” He gave you a look. “Alright. I understand.” You started to work and remained silent.

Takeshi watched your focused gaze.

“You are good at that,” he said after a couple quiet minutes. You smiled, not looking at him because you were too tuned in.

“I’ve had to learn.” You finished up and leaned back, lifting your shirt enough to show him your stitched abdomen. He leaned back and nodded.

“You’re better company than the AI’s.”

“Don’t say that too loud. Poe has ears everywhere,” you whispered, laughing a bit.

“I don’t think I can hurt his feelings. He’s an AI.” You rolled your eyes.

“They have feelings,” you argued. You stood up. “I hope that heals nicely,” you said gently.

“It will,” he said.

“Goodnight Takeshi.” You started towards the door.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” You turned back to him and nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

====

You didn’t know much about Takeshi but he did open up over the next couple days. You had spent mornings and nights together but you always retreated to your separate rooms before sleeping. You had told him a little about yourself and he shared more about himself.

You liked him.

He liked you.

You sat on his bed, looking out the window.

“I think that building is a sleeve manufacturer,” you said, pointing to one of the tall buildings. He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought that was a cosmetics place.” “Same thing Tak.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. He was laying on the bed, his hands behind his head.

“The one next to it is run by an asshole.” He poured himself a drink off the bottle on his bedside table. You took it from him before he could get a sip, taking a swig and then handing it back to him.

“They’re all run by assholes,” you muttered.

“Is that why you run around killing them?”

“Hey, I wasn’t able to fight in a war against them. It’s the best I can do,” you said honestly. He pursed his lips and shrugged.

“I’d say you’re doing a halfway decent job,” he admitted.

“I try.”

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mention the new cut over your eye but it’s bleeding and now I feel I have to mention it.” He brought a finger up to his eyebrow, looking at the blood. “This sleeve,” he muttered.

“At least it’s pretty,” you said as you got up, grabbing a bandage and coming back to him. You sat down beside him and leaned forward, wiping the blood away and put the bandage on him.

“I can do that,” he said.

“You say that every time I do something and yet you let me keep going,” you muttered. You made sure it was alright and looked him in the eye. You quickly looked away, not letting yourself linger in his eyes. He was too dangerous and he slept with the AI in the building and he killed-

He kissed you before you could finish the thought and it all went out the window because he was a really good kisser. He cupped your cheek, grabbing you around the waist. He moved you closer to him so you were practically in his lap. He sat up and his hands moved down your back.

You pulled away but he kept kissing down your neck as you leaned over the bedside table, hitting the button and closing the blinds.

====

Poe had made the eggs at the same time he did every day. He had always made them for you and just decided to add Takeshi’s when he made yours. It was simple and you were always punctual.

Except today.

He waited patiently and twenty minutes after you usually came down, you and Takeshi entered the ground floor. You yawned, rubbing your neck.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m not complaining Kovacs,” you said. Poe smiled.

“How was your night? The eggs are cold, you’re both late.” Takeshi sat down, taking a drink of the cup Poe left out.

“It was a good night,” he said.

“A decent night,” you teased.

“You sleep well?” Poe asked politely. You nodded stiffly, hiding a smile.

“Very well.”

“You both know I know everything that happens in my hotel right?” Poe asked. Takeshi shrugged.

“Then you should have known when we would come down,” Takeshi said.

“And you should have known it was Takeshi’s fault,” you said.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he muttered. Poe smiled.

“I know you two would like each other.”