#and i looked up the summary after and apparently the sexy space cat guy was mute

[killmebythebeach]

Just listened to Ride the Cyclone and wha what the qxvukmlplnvdsfjkpmnv

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 2021 (3) - “I’ve waited for this”

Fanfiction

Fandom: Mass Effect (Actor AU)

Summary: Macen Virius was supposed to be breaking things off with his costar. Instead, he’s pretty sure he might have just caught feelings. Damn it, it was just supposed to be a sex thing...

---

There was nothing like the end of a long day of filming to make Macen want to go to fucking sleep.

Every muscle in his body ached as he left the set to change out of his costume. Moments before, he had been in the blown out remains of a battlefield. Post would add the effects, but his hands still ached from holding his prop rifle and clicking the useless trigger button. Honestly, if he had been human, he would have expected an imprint there.

He was going to have to ask his costar about that later…

“Where is he anyway?” Macen’s mandibles twitched as he glanced around. Everyone was heading off, but there was no sign of Mass Effect’s leading man. Usually, he stuck around to talk to his costar – then again, he didn’t see the other ‘Commander Shepard’ either. They must have both taken off early…

He envied that about humans. They got out of costume and makeup way too quickly.

In the end, he too was back in his regular clothes. As he walked, he rubbed his right mandible, trying to get the feeling back. Part of playing Garrus meant that he needed fake implants to imply he’d had half his face blown off. With how numb that mandible got, it certainly felt that way. No doubt about it, he was looking forward to the final season where all he would need is scar tissue. At least he’d be able to move better in that.

A beeping drew his attention to his wrist as he left the set. His omnitool was letting him know he had a message from a certain fake redhead. As humans put it, curiosity killed the cat (don’t ask him, he didn’t even know what a cat was) so he opened it.

Alex Jones: Hey, rehearsal at my place tonight?

Alex Jones: I can get takeout from that levo-dextro place again. You liked their noodles.

He had liked their noodles. What he didn’t like was… well, this.

“You’re getting too attached, Virius. This is just supposed to be about sex.” He shook his head, half considering calling things off so he could have the night to himself. Problem was that his stomach had started to growl at the thought of those noodles. Besides, tomorrow’s shoot was supposed to involve a lot of emotional moments – he needed all the feedback he could get.

With any luck, he’d end the night in his own bed without fucking the human. After all… he was a turian of self-restraint and control. He could totally handle this.

…

Yeah, he was just going to keep telling himself that and hope for the best. Damn sexy human…

---

An hour later, Macen found himself standing in front of his costar’s door, frowning as he stared at the metal. As hard as he tried to talk himself into ending things, doubt still gnawed at his stomach.

He should end things. It never ended well when he got too into somebody.

“He should understand… it’s just sex… he’s my costar, and it’s just sex.” Macen shook his head again, frowning as he started to key in the human’s door code. Alex had given it to him a month prior, mostly so if he was going to be late he could get in.

That probably wasn’t a good sign, but he had elected to ignore it.

The door clicked opened, and he stepped in. Much to his surprise, the sound of upbeat music met him in the hallway. Not only that, but someone was singing to it if his translator was anything to go by. The damn thing was working overtime as he sidled closer to the entrance to the living room, holding his breath as he peaked in.

Lucky for him, Alex’s back was to him. The human had cleared a space in his living room in order to have room for what he was doing then. However, Macen was having a problem processing what “that” was. Well, he knew it was dancing – a somewhat odd version of it – but it was just so… old fashioned.

Also, since when did Alex dance?

“Let’s chase the dreaming light, and I’ll truly be myself…”

Dancing wasn’t the only thing on the menu. Macen’s jaw dropped as he realized the soft, sweet voice he had heard in the hallway was coming from Alex himself as he worked through the song with flowing, easy moves. Something about it was so painstakingly familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it as he stood mutely in the hallway, watching the scene in front of him.

He had to wonder… what did it look like from the front?

“There’s a scene I want to show you. You have to wait for it… so let’s make a promise!”

Alex moved into a different position, holding out his hand to an imaginary audience that Macen couldn’t see as he took a step up. Every one of his moves were precise, even though he was doing nothing more than dancing around his apartment in his socks. Clearly, he had been practicing…

But for what?

“There’s a gentle wind wrapping around me… isn’t it warm?”

Macen knew a bridge when he heard one, and he felt himself holding his breath as he watched. Alex was getting closer to his imaginary audience now, probably for whatever was going to come in the final chorus. Maybe it was because he was so focused on the man that he hadn’t noticed his heart had begun to beat faster, but it thudded all the same.

“They’re overflowing, these endless hearts…” The man suddenly turned on his heel, facing the entry way. “Please carry them to tomorrow!”

And then no more singing happened as the precursor to the final chorus played behind him. He was fixed on the turian standing in his living room, looking rather shocked as if he hadn’t given him the door code. Macen wasn’t doing much better, mind you – he still hadn’t managed to shut his damn mouth.

And people thought they were cool. If only the blogs could see them now.

At least Alex shut the music off as he regained sense. He reached for a towel to dry off his apparently sweaty face, cheeks a slight pink from exercise. Maybe it was the sweat that had made him shine in that moment. For all Macen knew, it had caught the overhead light when he spun around like that.

Meanwhile, his heart wasn’t slowing down. Still…

“Uh… I guess my text didn’t make it.” At least his mandibles were starting to work. “I didn’t miss the noodles yet, did I?”

The human put his towel down as he started towards his phone propped up on a stand. “They’ll be here in 15 last I checked.”

The music started playing on his phone as he frowned. “Damn, I knew I spun the wrong way…”

This caused Macen to cock his head to the side. “Were you recording yourself for social media or something?”

Doubtful; this kind of thing definitely wasn’t in the human’s wheelhouse. After all, he was supposed to be playing Commander Shepard. While the man had some oddities, he probably didn’t dance around like that.

…

Then again, who fucking knew. Dude was weird.

Alex was still checking his phone as he spoke. “No, just recording my practice to see where I need to improve for filming next week.”

Surprisingly, he was grinning as he looked up. “I’ve waiteda for this for a long time, so I want to get it right.”

Something about the way he smiled did awful things to Macen’s stomach. However, the statement set his mind whirring. While he wasn’t a complete Reaper War freak like some of his coworkers, he at least knew enough to be sure something like that hadn’t happened. After all, there’d be videos, right?

Definitely videos, no way Joker would’ve let that slip by.

“Ok, you’re going to have to fill me in on this one… since when did Shepard do a little dance?”

Alex chuckled – again, there went his stomach. “2185, to be exact. The Normandy ran into a rogue AI that accidentally found its way into Shepard’s music collection. They needed to distract it, so he wound up putting on a little show. He disabled the cameras beforehand, but he wrote about it in his journal, so we know it happened. And now I get to do it on TV and make all the people who think he was just a military guy hate me. I’m thrilled.”

Clearly – he was sparkling again, and this time it wasn’t from the sweat. Macen felt his heart beat harder again, and he tried to distract himself by looking towards the door. If those noodles could save his ass, he’d marry them.

Besides, he was supposed to be calling things off with the guy.

Alex was still looking through his phone as he spoke. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve done a dance routine for TV, I was worried I forgot how. I’m definitely a little rough, but it’s better than I thought it would be. Good thing the director let me know early so I could practice a bit more.”

Macen started to open his mouth to ask, but then the memory came to the surface. He knew where he had heard the voice before, and honestly he was surprised he had forgotten about it. Back then, he had secretly loved to watch it.

Secretly, of course, because Citadel Idol Heart was really more of a girl’s show. The popular teen drama about idols competing in a Citadel-wide talent competition in hopes of seeing their dreams come to life had run for a few years, and he had seen every episode. More importantly, he had once crushed on the main character, a blonde idol with blue eyes and the sweetest voice he had ever heard. Whenever she took the stage, he had been unable to look away.

Just like he couldn’t look away now…

“You… I forgot you were on CIH.”

It was now Alex’s turn to blink back surprise as he looked up from his phone. “You watched that?”

“Kind of…” His eyes darted. “Your voice hasn’t changed much. I mean it’s gotten older sounding but I’m glad to know it wasn’t autotune or anything…”

Things had officially gotten awkward. There he was, with the crush from his teenage years… and he was fucking the guy without even knowing it. Life was weird, and it was getting worse by the second. If only teenage him could see him now…

The man’s cheeks turned a light pink at the compliment. “Well, it’s not like I’ve gone on T or anything, so no big surprise there…”

He got up, probably to check for the noodles. “I take it you were part of the Melody fan club then. Unless you were an edge lord and went with Black Rose. Her fan club was the absolute worst and insisted we hated each other, but I was the best man at her damn wedding last year…”

The rest of his statement was drowned out by the opening of a door and the ruffling of a paper bag. At last, the noodles had arrived. Unfortunately, Macen realized he didn’t have much of an appetite. His stomach refused to calm, and his heart still pounded as he sat there, processing everything.

At least the application of a warm box to his mandibles helped.

“Macen, your noodles are going to get cold.”

He blinked and realized Alex was nudging him in the face with his food. That shot him back to reality as he took the box and proffered plastic fork that went with it. The human then settled in next to him – not across! – and started to dig into his own box.

Right… food. And they were supposed to be rehearsing. And he was definitely supposed to be breaking up with his costar.

“I had the pin.”

His comment left silence in his wake. Alex had stopped eating and was giving him a rather incredulous look. This caused Macen to duck his head in lieu of eating noodles. After all, it was hard to do so politely when you had a face like his. Really, he should have sworn them off… but they were just so damn good he couldn’t resist.

Damn humans and their noodles, they were out to get him.

“You had the fan club pin?”

Yep – there went his mandibles, flapping in the breeze. “I was a big fan, ok? What can I say, everyone loves an underdog story… and you maybe… looked good in that one outfit. The orange one…”

Melody in the orange outfit had been taped to his bedroom wall until he left for basic. Hell, it might still be there…

“God, you’re such a nerd.”

Alex was chuckling though as he put his fork down. It was a nice sound, though it did horrible things to Macen’s stomach once more. Thoughts of noodles evaporated as he sat there, taking in the sound of the human’s mirth. He really needed to laugh more often… maybe he should work on making that happen.

“Well… I can’t exactly let a fan down, now can I?”

He stood and crossed the room to the open space he had created. The music was soon queued up to where he had last stopped, and Alex took position once more. The smile on his face made Macen’s heart want to stop as he sat there, a noodle still hanging from his mandible.

“I can take off into the dreaming sky… because I’m not alone.” Alex winked as he moved, following the song. “Wherever it is, I feel like I can go across the distant sky…”

Then the music swelled as it led into the final chorus. Macen forgot how to breathe in that moment as he watched his costar dance and sing along to the ancient song. All he could think of was how much better he had gotten since the days of CIH…

And how much he wanted to kiss him.

“It’s not enough to put into words, so I’m putting it into a song I’m wishing will reach you.” Another smile as Alex twirled, then began his final pose as the song began to wind down. “Beating my heart~”

The last pose, with his head cocked to the side and hands clasped together, held as the music faded. Then there was silence in the living room as Macen struggled to remember how to function. Right then, there was nothing there but Alex and the table in front of him that kept him in place.

Shit.

“It probably needs some work, but I think I’ve got the basics considering it’s only been a couple hours.” Alex landed back on the couch, picking his food back up. “What do you think, Macen? Got anything you noticed?”

Yeah… his heart was still beating like crazy.

“Macen?”

The turian shook his head – probably launching the noodle in the process. At least it didn’t hit the man next to him, so he could thank his lucky stars for that. However, it was hard to think then as so many feelings and thoughts crashed together.

He was supposed to be calling it off… that was why he came over. This was just supposed to be a sex thing… but every bone in his carapace was telling him to grab the other man and kiss the daylights out of him. They hadn’t even ever kissed outside of sex or prepping for scenes…

What the hell was wrong with him?

“I uh… I don’t know the song, but maybe hold the last pose a bit longer. They might be able to make your eyes light up a bit more.”

Alex nodded at this. “I’ll make a note. Also, don’t you hate cold noodles? Last time you wouldn’t stop complaining when the delivery guy was late…”

Right then, Macen wasn’t sure what he hated or liked as he shoveled the food into his mouth. He just needed something, anything to keep him away from the thoughts currently blooming in his mind.

He knew this path – he hated it. It never ended well. And long ago he had told himself he was never going to walk down it again if he had any sense in his head. This was nothing more than a rehash on an old teenage crush… he could overpower it.

“We need our energy to practice.” He slurped down the last noodle, glad that none were sticking to his face this time. “Tomorrow’s going to be hell if we’re not ready.”

At least his costar nodded as he worked to finish his dinner. “Tell me about it, I have a damn imprint on my trigger finger from that damn gun…”

Well, at least on the bright side that question got answered. It did nothing to quell the bubbling feelings Macen was trying so desperately to beat down, but at least his curiosity was sated for the moment. Maybe that would get him through filming.

One thing was for sure… he was fucked. No way about it – he was just plain fucked. The universe was laughing at him, and he only had himself to blame. All he could do was hope he could hold back and wait for the feelings to pass.

If they didn’t… see the previous statement for clarification. Fuck… he was supposed to be a turian sharpshooter, not a lovesick puppy. He didn’t sign up for this.

[sakuwriteshere]

One-shot: Re-Enchanted

Summary: After a hunt that didn’t end as good as she wanted, Y/N spends a movie night with her friend, Gabriel. The Archangel has an idea to cheer her up and maybe push Dean and Y/N to realize their feelings. But nothing goes as it was supposed to be.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Other characters: Sam WInchester, Gabriel

Words count: 8656 words

Warnings: Reader feeling down, FLUFF, cursed words (one or two I think?), did I say FLUFF?, mutual pining, FLUUUFFF

Beta-reader: @ireblogcauseiappreciateyou Thank you so much 💖You’re the best!

A/N: Originally written for @alleiradayne​‘s 2020 Supernatural Summer Shut-in Challenge but I thought it didn’t really fit the genre and the prompt so I didn’t use it as an entry. However, I really liked the story and I wanted to write something about the movie Enchanted so I thought it could be great to post it anyway.

You don’t need to have watched the movie Enchanted, but it’s highly recommended! There’s a lot of references. Also it’s very cheesy and I apologize for it ^^”

Enjoy and feel free to reblog and/or comment ;)

Main Masterlist

___________________________

Re-Enchanted

After several months of running all over the country, jumping from one case to another, you could finally spend a lazy night in the bunker. No demons, no monsters, no witches to hunt. Just you, a big bowl of popcorn, and a TV. You loved Dean for choosing such a huge screen.

“Hi there, Sugar!” Gabriel jumped into the couch, right next to you, bumping you slightly in the process, making you grunt at the sudden weight against you. The archangel simply ignores you as he plunges his hand into the popcorn, stuffing his mouth with the sweets.

“Long time no see, Gabe. How have you been?” You asked as you shift more comfortably into the couch.

“Same old, same old,” Gabriel waved his hand before he let his arm fall over your shoulders, pulling your body into his. You moved again, your head resting against his shoulder, leaning on Gabriel a bit more as you tucked your legs underneath you.

You let out a content sight, feeling carefree for the first time since a long time. Gabriel was one of your best friends, he spent his time with you whenever he could, which was a lot if you were honest, and you wouldn’t complain about it. The archangel was someone very funny and nice, and it was a pleasure to be near him. You loved his humor and his little pranks, especially when you weren’t on the receiving end.

The both of you fell silent as your attention fell back onto the movie. Once in a while, Dean would let you use his Dean cave and you had to admit the man outdid himself with the room. Everything you would need to spend the perfect movie night was here. Well, almost everything.

You loved Gabriel to death, really. But there was someone else you were closer to, and you smiled fondly when you thought about what he would say about your movie choices.

“Oh man, come on! You’re watching that chick-flick? Again?” Dean asked as he entered the room. Not you nor Gabriel moved, your eyes still focused on the screen.

“Patrick Dempsey.” Gabriel and you said at the same time, like it was the only natural explanation.

You didn’t see Dean rolling his eyes at your comment, as you were too focused on the screen. You watched Gisele landing in the middle of Manhattan while you put some caramelized popcorn in your mouth, the sweet treat melting on your tongue.

This movie was your guilty pleasure and you weren’t shy of showing it. Yes, you were a hunter. Yes, you were a badass. Yes, you knew the horrible truth, monsters existed in this world, killing innocent people and turning their insignificant and boring lives into nightmares. That was exactly why you needed your chick-flick moments. You were a hunter but you were also a human being before everything. Since you were a kid, you loved fairy tales and happy endings. You knew you would never have a happy ending with this life but it didn’t hurt to still hope and dream about it.

Dean’s groans broke your concentration and you spared him an angry glance, sticking out your tongue at him before you turned back into your movie.

“You’re one to speak, Dean-o,” Gabriel smirked at Dean. “We all know you have a soft spot for handsome doctors.”

Dean scoffed at Gabriel’s words, shifting from one foot to the other, crossing and uncrossing his arms, not really knowing what to do with his body.

“This guy is not, Dr. Sexy!” Dean stressed the words, pointing at the screen when Patrick Dempsey appeared on the screen. “They are totally different characters,” Dean added firmly. His favorite TV show has nothing in common with the other supposed medical drama show Patrick Dempsey was in.

“Hush you two. It’s the interesting part,” You say to the two men, adjusting your head on Gabriel’s shoulder.

You saw Dean’s body coming into your peripheral vision, as the man was looking for something. You ignored his presence as you concentrated on your movie, you let out a happy sigh as Gabriel started to thread his fingers in your hair. This was a perfect night: best movie, best candies, bestie at your side. You were totally oblivious of what was going on around you.

***

Gabriel wasn’t really watching the movie, he knew it by heart, for having watched it so many times. No, something more funny and interesting was going on in the room. He glanced secretly at Dean who suddenly stopped in his quest of whatever he was looking for when he heard your sigh.

The hunter looked at you and Gabriel, not so discreetly, his jaw clenching when he saw the intimate gestures the archangel was giving you. It was totally friendly but Dean didn’t know that.

An amused smile stretched Gabriel’s lips and he quickly hid it behind your head as he kissed it, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. It wasn’t rare for Gabriel to be so touchy with you, the archangel loved cuddles and it didn’t take him too long to know you craved it too. It was totally platonic, the both of you knew it.

But Dean didn’t.

And Gabriel was enjoying every second of this sweet torture. He loved how Dean’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, how his eyes darkened as his gaze zoomed on the spot where Gabriel’s lips rested on your head, how his body was slightly trembling with jealousy or how tight his lips were sealed to prevent himself from saying something.

“Need something?” Gabriel asked casually.

Dean jumped slightly at his question, unaware that he was staring at the both of you. He licked his lips and searched around him, grabbing the nearest thing: a pair of earphones. He waved the thing, as a way to tell Gabriel he had found what he was looking for, then left the room in a hurry.

A cheshire cat’s smile appeared on Gabriel’s lips while you remained totally oblivious, you were too deeply focused on your movie to notice anything.

Interesting.

***

You woke up feeling dizzy and your head hurting as if a herd of elephants had stepped on it the whole night. Carefully you opened your eyes, squeezing them shut quickly as the bright light assaulted you. You blinked a few times before you opened them once and for good. The first thing that hit you was that you didn’t recognize where you were. The last thing you remembered was spending the night with Gabriel. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

“Are you alright?” You heard a strange, chipmunk voice asking you.

That’s when your fuzzy brain registered something you haven’t noticed yet. As you looked around the room, searching for the owner of the voice, you felt that something was wrong. The place and the furniture around you didn’t look like what you were used to. Everything was so colorful and...cartoonish?

“Someone dreamed of her prince, right?” The chipmunk voice giggled and that’s when your eyes fell on the little squirrel standing at your feet.

Your eyes widened, your mouth slack opened as you saw the tiny creature climbing along your legs, finally sitting on your lap, big, brown eyes staring at you.

You jumped from the bed you were sitting on and ran towards the nearest mirror, not believing your own eyes. Your cartoonish reflection looking back at you.

“What the hell?!” You asked your own reflection, your fingers pressed against your face.

***

It took you a bit of time to comprehend what was going on. Apparently you were right in the middle of your favorite movie and for whatever reason, you were the main character, Gisele. Except that the cartoonish characters around you knew your real name, and this little detail didn’t seem to bother them. You stood in the middle of the room, totally speechless as you watched the many (too many) cartoonish forest animals dancing and singing around you. If they wanted you to sing along, it would be over your dead body!

Despite your refusal to play along, the movie kept on going and soon, too soon, the deers and birds looked at something behind you, stuttering and suddenly afraid. Uh-oh...

Being chased by a giant troll isn’t something funny. Within your career as a hunter you’ve seen a lot of weird things, but this had to top everything else.

“Get the hell out of here!” You yelled at the monster who was crawling on the same tree branch you were currently using as a safe space.

And just like in the movie that you knew by heart, the weight of the little chipmunk sent the troll far, far away and leaving you alone holding onto the frail branch as if your life depended on it. There was no way, the tiny creature could save you, you knew what was going to happen next. You closed your eyes and reluctantly let go of the branch, feeling your body falling quickly and heavily. You screamed through the fall because let’s be honest it was scary and the branches that hit you in your fall weren’t leaving a nice feeling to your body. Finally, you landed on something soft and warm, and felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around you.

“Oh my gosh…” You sighed, feeling relieved to still be alive, being an immortal cartoon character had its perks. You lifted your eyes slowly, ready to see Prince Edward from Andalasia for the very first time, and more particularly the one who played the character.

“Sam?” You said, totally bewildered as you were expecting James Marsden instead.

But Sam Winchester, your friend and hunting partner, was the one wearing the burgundy outfit instead. He was a cartoon as well but you could recognize his face easily.

“Yes, it’s me! And you are?” Sam asked you, a strange look written all over his face as if it was the first time he saw you.

“Y/N. Come on this isn’t funny. I don’t know what’s going on but we need to do something.” You said, as you tried to climb down from the horse you fell onto but Sam held you tight, keeping you in place.

“Oooh Y/N! You’re right. We shall be married in the morning!” As if his sudden (and not romantic at all) wedding proposal wasn’t surprising you enough, you fell speechless when you heard him starting to sing.

“You were made…” Sam sang, expecting you to finish the song.

“I’m not singing.” You said plainly, pushing against his chest to free yourself.

Everything froze around you, as if the time had stopped. You looked around and quickly your eyes fell onto the only thing that was still moving.

“Gabriel.” You should have known it was because of him. Who else would have enough power to create all of this?

“Come on, Sugar. Sing along!” The archangel said with energy, coming closer to you and holding out his hand to help you get down from the horse.

“What does all of this mean?” You asked, feeling furious and you weren’t going to let his funny cartoonish look disturb you.

“Consider it as a well-needed break.” Gabriel started to explain. “Don’t be mad. I know you’re feeling down lately-”

“Of course I’m feeling down, we lost an innocent on our last hunt.” You reminded him, you had explained everything the night before. “The guy is dead because of me.”

It was Gabriel’s turn to stop you. “That is not your fault. Those things happen.”

You rolled your eyes at that and crossed your arms upon your chest, showing Gabriel your back. You were going to give him the silent treatment, and you were not in the mood to play in his stupid pranks.

“It’s just a dream, I swear. I wanted to do something nice for you, that’s all.”

“Really?” You turned around, hearing the defeat in his tone. Your arms fell at your sides as you relaxed a bit.

“Well,” You didn’t need to look at him to know there was a mischievous smile curling his lips. Gabriel’s arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Just play along, enjoy it while you can and once you wanna get out of it, all you have to do is to realize what you truly want,” he told you, not even an ounce of wickedness in his voice. He was genuinely worried about you and wanted only your well-being.

“What I truly want?” You parrotted as you broke the embrace, feeling something fishy behind those words.

The Archangel wiggled his eyebrows before disappearing. You called his name several times but he was already gone and you could only count on yourself to get out of here.

“Great…” Was the last thing you had time to say before everything turned black.

And the story started all over again.

And again and again.

After the fifth time, you realized that if you wanted to reach the end of the movie, or this dream or whatever it was, you had to play along just like what Gabe said. Well, you better start doing it, the faster you would reach the end, the faster you would wake up. After all, it was just a dream, nothing could go wrong right? And the fact that Patrick Dempsey was waiting for you was another good reason to keep moving.

***

“So, get this,” Sam entered the library, throwing a newspaper into Dean’s lap.

“Come on man! We’ve just got back, can’t we have a little break?” Dean groaned but picked up the newspaper anyway.

“It’s not that far and there’s already three vics. Looks like a simple salt and burn, it would only take us one day, two at tops.”

Dean kept on reading the article, nodding absentmindedly at his little brother’s words. Sam was right, the three vics were from the same family and each of them died in the same house within weird circumstances. And after the last hunt, Dean knew an easy win was what you needed to cheer you up. With one look, Dean knew that was also the main reason for Sam to go.

Dean slapped his thighs as he stood up. “Alright! Get ready, we’re leaving in ten.”

Sam nodded and headed for his room to get ready, though Dean stopped him in his tracks when he asked him to go and tell you they were leaving.

“She’s still in her room?” Sam asked, a bit surprised when he checked the time. It was already one in the afternoon and now that he thought about it, he hasn't seen you since the night before. There was only one reason for you to stay inside your room for so long. You were more depressed than what Sam thought.

The soft and gentle knock on your door didn’t get any response from you, so Sam knocked again, a bit more firmly. When he still got no answer from you, Sam brought his face closer to the door.

“Y/N? Uh...we found a case. A simple salt and burn case so don’t pack too heavy, ok? We’re leaving in ten,” Sam told you from his side of the door. He turned around, already thinking about what he needed to pack but after a second he glanced at your door again. You still haven’t answered him.

Sam knocked again. “Y/N? You’re awake?” His hand was already turning the doorknob. The door opened a crack, leaving enough room for Sam to take a look inside.

“Y/N?” Sam opened the door completely and entered your room. He came closer to your bed when he spotted you still soundly asleep.

Gently he shook your shoulder, hopeful that the movement would be enough to stir you awake.

“Come on, this is not funny.” Sam tried to chuckle but something deep down his stomach told him you weren’t faking it. “Dean!”

It didn’t take long for Dean to come in. The urgency in his brother’s voice was enough of a warning and when he realized that Sam was in your room, Dean feared the worst. They had tried everything to wake you up but failed miserably. Your chest was moving up and down which meant you were asleep, and more importantly still alive. There was no trace of pain on your face, on the contrary, a small smile adorned your peaceful face.

“What’s going on?” Dean walked back and forth in front of your bed while Sam kept staring at you, thinking deeply.

“Do you think it’s a curse?” Sam offered but both brothers were quick to ditch the possibility, it’s been a few months since your last encounter with a witch.

“I don’t know. A demon maybe?” Dean tried but he didn’t know what could have put you in this state. The bunker was the safest place in the world, nothing could enter and hurt them here.

“Why does it always have to be something evil with you two?” Gabriel asked from the corner of the room, his sudden appearance making both Winchesters jump.

“Gabe! You have to do something. You have to help her.” Dean was quick to reach the Archangel, not bothering about the fact that he just appeared for no reason.

“Oh I’m already helping her, don’t worry,” Gabriel pushed Dean slightly on the side so he could come closer and sit at your feet. A fond smile on his lips as he watched you sleep peacefully.

The Winchesters remained silent, staring at Gabriel expectantly, waiting for more information from him. The archangel rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, how could those two idiots be still alive, after so many years was beyond him. They were so slow sometimes.

“I’m the one who put her under the sleeping spell.” Sometimes it was better to say it straight if you wanted to get to the main point quickly.

“What?” The Winchester brothers said in sync.

“She’s having the time of her life! Well...she’s going to if she relaxes and lets go.” Gabriel announced, proud of himself. Though his own satisfaction disappeared quickly when Dean grabbed him by the collar and pushed him strongly against the nearest wall.

“Wake. Her. Up.” Dean seethed lowly, he was ready to beat the hell out of Gabriel if he needed to. Super powerful archangel or not.

“Now, now,” Gabriel easily freed himself from Dean’s tight grip. “That’s not my job.”

“And whose job is it?” Sam asked, he was calmer than his older brother but he needed just one more tiny push before feeling the need to kill Gabriel himself.

“Prince Not So Charming over here,” Gabriel replied, his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at Dean.

“What?” Dean’s eyes widened. He didn’t have time to react when Gabriel stopped in front of him, pressing two fingers to his forehead.

“One rule: play along and be honest,” he whispered before Dean fell unconscious.

That's how she knows that you love her

That's how you show her you love her (That's how you know)

He didn’t know what was going on anymore. One second he was inside your room, ready to give Gabriel the death sentence, and the other he was sitting in a white carriage in the middle of who knows where.

You've got to show her you need her

Don't treat her like a mind reader (That's how you know)

Dean didn’t know what was the craziest. The fact that he was sitting in a carriage, wearing a monkey suit, or that he was watching you singing and dancing with people, too many people. And you were wearing a dress too! As far as he could, he didn’t remember seeing you in a dress. He had to admit that it suited you. You should wear it more often even though it wouldn’t be practical during a hunt.

That's how she knows that you love her

That's how you know that you love her

It's not enough to take the one you love for granted (He's your love)

The crowd cheered happily once the song was over. It took a few seconds for Dean to understand what was going on. He's heard this song so many times, the monstrous melody was engraved into his brain forever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You were giggling and clapping enthusiastically as you sat down, sitting in front of Dean. You still were a bit surprised to see Dean instead of Patrick Dempsey. You knew Gabriel was having fun with the three of you, and you had to admit that seeing Sam wearing tights was particularly funny but you still were wondering why Gabriel thought having Dean here as well would be funny. Strangely, you didn’t complain about it. Sure Dean wasn’t Patrick Dempsey but he was still Dean Winchester and you would be lying to yourself if you said that Dean wasn’t easy on the eyes. It was difficult to play at first, having the face of your friend in front of you but you quickly realized that he wasn’t truly Dean, just a dreamy representation, just like Sam.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him when you noticed something different in his eyes. There was a kind of glint in them that wasn’t there before.

“Where the hell are we?” Dean exclaimed grumpily. “And since when are you singing?”

You blinked several times, surprised by his outburst. “Dean? Is that really you?”

“Son of a bitch!” He yelped, shoving away the two doves over his head.

Well, things just get more complicated.

***

“Really, Gabriel?” Sam gave the archangel his best bitchy face, the latter only shrugged, not seeing where the problem was.

Sam grunted as he tried to lift Dean’s unconscious body from the ground. When he cast the spell, Gabriel didn’t see the need to prevent Dean from the heavy fall, it was even a little funny if he was honest. Once Dean was securely thrown over his shoulder, Sam glared at the angel.

“You mind telling me what this is about?”

“She needed a break, ok? She was feeling really, really down yesterday night.” Gabriel started to explain, a mix between seriousness and worry written all over his face.

“We know.” Sam agreed, his anger slowly replaced by sadness. “We were working on it.”

Gabriel scoffed at that. “Right! Another hunt, huh? It worked so well before.”

“Because you think your way is better?” Sam shifted from one foot to another, his brother was kind of heavy.

Gabriel shrugged. He didn’t know if his little plan would work but it was worth the shot. Truth to be told, you and Dean were really stubborn, and if you didn’t play his little game like how Gabriel expected, who knew what would happen.

***

Dean was standing in the middle of a living room, wearing only a bathrobe. He did as you told him and followed your lead. You’ve spent half of the day together, acting like the characters of your movie, and he would lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy the time he had spent with you at the restaurant but he had enough of all this shit already. He didn’t know why he ended up here and he couldn’t care less, what mattered the most was to get you and him out of here, as soon as possible.

“You have to wake up, Y/N.” He told you sharply, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake up the little girl sleeping in the next room.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” You hissed, using a cushion to hide your bare legs. You were only wearing a shirt, and you wouldn’t feel as embarrassed as you were feeling now if it was Patrick Dempsey instead of Dean. “Gabe told me to play along and that’s what I’m doing.”

“He told me that too,” Dean remembered the last words from Gabriel before he was sent into this nightmare.

“Every time I refuse to follow the movie, it starts all over again. I think if I reach the end of it, I’ll wake up but as for you, I have no idea why you’re here. I mean, you were here but it wasn’t really you before, if you know what I mean?”

“I don’t know the movie. How am I supposed to stop this?” Dean groaned then started to pace in the middle of the room. To be honest, he knew the movie, the big lines anyway. Whenever he watched it with you, Dean was more focused on you than the movie. He loved the fact that it brought a smile to your face every time. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit this out loud.

You sighed and scratched the back of your head. “Just follow my lead.” You stood up and stood in front of him, trying to ignore the fact that Dean Winchester was naked under that bathrobe. “Let’s start a fight.”

“I’m sorry?” Dean blinked several times, totally lost with your plan.

“Come on, yell at me or something.” You encouraged him, waving your hands in the air.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Dean scoffed and took a step aside.

“Really?” You defied, knowing you were heading exactly where you wanted.

“No.”

“No?” Perfect. You were back on track! “Is that the only word that you know? No?”

“What? No!”

“Yeah? No! Over and over again. Every word out of your mouth is ‘no’! It makes me so...angry!” You forced a laugh with the last word, you weren’t in the mood at all, but the show must go on as they say.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked, worried about your sanity. He knew what Gabriel’s tricks could do to a human mind.

You punched him in the chest lightly before calming down. “I’m...I’m wonderful.”

Dean’s face told you he wasn’t buying it.

You were far from wonderful, you perfectly knew what was going to happen next, and it was going to be awkward. Why did it have to be Dean in front of you? Playing your part just became ten times worse. You swallowed hard as you brought your fingers near Dean’s bare chest. Dean froze when he felt your fingers against his skin, just over his heart. It took all his willpower to control the beating as calmly as possible. You glanced at his lips then his eyes, oblivious of Dean doing exactly the same thing. Slowly you brought your face closer, Dean doing the same. You shouldn’t feel so scared, you knew what was going to happen, everything was fake. So why were you so thrilled suddenly? Did Dean know he had to walk away?

Apparently yes, because the next second Dean cleared his throat and walked away. This was a real torture to him, he needed to get out of here before he would do something you would regret. You didn’t have to pretend you were feeling disappointed with him leaving you alone, and you really were confused about what just happened and what you were starting to feel.

***

Once he had laid down Dean on his bed, Sam came back into your room where Gabriel was still watching over you. He was expecting this to be over already, what was taking them so long?

“This is your worst idea, ever, Gabe,” Sam said grumpily as he sat next to the archangel, a hand rubbing his face.

“I know they’re kind of slow but-” Gabriel agreed, knowing his plan wasn’t perfect but he had little time to think about it.

“Slow? That’s an understatement.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “My brother thinks it’s one-sided or that he doesn’t deserve her or some crap, while Y/N is too scared to admit she’s head over heels in love with Dean.”

“You knew?” Gabriel was surprised. He had just realized there might be something between them, the night before. How come Sam knew before him?

“You spend as much time with those two idiots as I do and you’ll know,” Sam smirked, before he became serious again, wanting to know more about Gabriel’s next move. “So what are you going to do to fix this mess if none of them admit their feelings?”

Gabriel’s lack of an answer wasn’t reassuring. He hadn’t thought about that.

***

As if being stuck in this movie wasn’t enough already, Dean had to be wearing this stupid royal outfit. The material was scratching his skin and he wasn’t thinking about the pair of tights. This was humiliating, really. Gabriel was so dead once they were back. If they ever came back.

All his negative thoughts flew away when Dean spotted you at the top of the giant stairs. You were once again wearing a dress. If there was one thing that he enjoyed with this mess, it was the dresses, they looked really good on you. Though, right now you were stunning. The dress was really simple contrary to the royal dresses the folks around him were wearing but you were the most beautiful woman in the room to Dean’s eyes. Honestly, he didn’t need you to wear a dress to find you beautiful and attractive. You gave him the most beautiful and biggest smile as your eyes made contact with his. Even though he didn’t know the movie as best as you, Dean recognized that part of the movie. It was your favorite part, you told him that every time you’ve reached that particular scene. The way your face would brighten saying this, how carefree and innocent you looked when you admitted it, Dean loved every fucking second of it and that’s why he accepted to watch the movie with you every time you asked him to.

As he was fondly thinking about those precious moments he had shared with you back in the bunker, his eyes followed your form elegantly walking down the stairs. This scene was becoming his favorite too, but only because you both were in it. You stopped just a few inches from him, and Dean was still lost in his thoughts, his lips slightly parted and totally speechless.

Someone cleared his throat and broke the magical spell between you two. That was when Dean noticed Sam next to you.

“Nice tights, Sammy,” Dean mumbled, trying to focus on something else than you.

“Thank you, peasant.” Sam thanked him, genuinely.

“Still not the real Sam.” You whispered to Dean.

“Right.” Dean nodded, still thinking about his first encounter with this weird Sam, and more particularly the moment he heard him sing. He will make fun of his little brother for the rest of his life.

A voice resonated into the huge ballroom. “Well folks, it’s that time of the night. I would like to ask each gentleman to invite a lady he did not accompany this evening to dance the King and Queen’s Waltz.”

Sam invited the woman who was Dean’s partner, the latter more than happy he did. Dean had tried the whole evening to get rid of her, refusing to dance with her or whatever crap the movie expected him to do. It was during that time when Dean realized that Y/N was the only one who had to follow the movie. The rule was only meant for you apparently. She accepted and walked with Sam in the middle of the room, getting ready to dance and leaving you and Dean alone and very awkward. He knew what was going to happen next and he was so not ready for this.

“Y/N,” Dean stuttered, licking his dry lips before giving you an apologetic look. “I don’t dance.”

You came closer, holding his hand in yours. “Please. Humor me,” you whispered, your eyes roaming over his. Dean obliged because there was no way he was going to say no to you when you looked at him like that.

The soft music started as you walked, hand in hand towards the middle of the room. Feeling insecure and totally out of your comforting zone you stood face to face. Dean exhaled softly before grabbing your right hand in his and resting his other one on your hip while yours found the perfect place over his left shoulder. Slowly the both of you started to sway from left to right, the moves awkward but soon you let yourselves go and started to properly waltz. Sure, it didn’t look as professional as it was in the movie, but to you, it was still perfect. Slowly you got closer, Dean brought his lips near your ear, hot breath tickling your skin.

When you heard Dean’s soft but offkey voice singing the lyrics, exactly like in the movie, you felt your heart skipping a beat and realized what all of this was about. You finally understood what Gabriel wanted you to know. All those strange feelings you’ve had since you’ve met him, it was more than friendship. If you were honest with yourself, you secretly knew what it was but you were too scared to admit it, even to yourself. Ignorance is bliss, particularly in your lifestyle. You smiled as Dean pulled you closer to him, feeling his warmth against your skin and you let yourself enjoy the moment, a soft smile on your face as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Too soon, someone broke the moment. Nancy, Dean’s date, interrupted you and asked for Dean’s attention, while Sam did the same with you. Regrettably, you let Dean go and accepted Sam’s awaiting hand. The two of you shared one last longing look before you started to climb up the stairs. Once you were at the top, Sam went to get your wrap after he made sure you were fine. You were far from being fine contrary to what you had assured him. You weren’t even pretending to play along anymore, you were truly devastated because you knew that it was only a dream, and once everything would be over, it would only remain a dream. There was no way Dean Winchester would be in love with you. The lyrics of the song fitted perfectly ‘So close and still so far.’

You jumped when an old lady appeared behind your back. It was the old witch, the one who wanted to kill you and you tried your best to not roll your eyes as you let her speak and pretend that she has been looking for you. If only you had your gun with some witch killing bullet with you but you could only cringe as you felt her wrinkled hands covering your bare shoulders as she forced you to look at Dean.

“To never be with the one you love.” She said, and you were hit by the truth behind those words.

Then she offered a red apple. “Just one bite, my love, and all of this will go away.” If only it was true.

You glanced one more time at Dean who was looking at you as well. Judging by his face you could tell he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. That was when a strange, and very stupid thought crossed your mind. Maybe you could stay like this? Maybe if you refused to finish the movie over and over again it would only restart to the beginning, and never end?

“But you must hurry. The magic will not work unless you take a bite before the clock strikes 12.” The witch warned you, pushing the apple into your hands. You didn’t need to think twice and took a tiny bite, falling unconscious the next second.

“No!” Dean screamed, witnessing the whole scene. How could he forget that part? He had made fun of it with you, saying it was too cliché. He started to run towards you as the witch took you away, kicking into the stupid apple as he climbed up two steps at a time. Fortunately, Sam was quicker than him and stopped the witch to leave with you.

Someone brought a small couch for you and Sam laid you down gently before taking his sword out from its sheath and pointing it right against the witch’s throat.

“Y/N.” Dean knelt next to you, fearing the worst when he saw how pale your face was. He had seen enough dead people to know how death looked like. And right now, he was living one of his deepest fears.

The witch started to explain what happened but Dean didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t have time for this stupid drama.

“Shut up!” Dean shouted, leaving everyone speechless. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, he would do anything to bring you back.

“Kiss her,” Dean asked Sam in a whisper. He knew what needed to be done.

“What?”

“A true love’s kiss, all of this is about this stupid crap so now kiss her and bring her back to me!” Dean yelled, he didn’t care if it followed the movie or not, he just wanted to bring you back. That was all that mattered.

“Yes of course!” Sam exclaimed, before pushing Dean on the side and kneeling in front of you. “I knew that,” Sam added, matter of factly. He clearly forgot about that.

Sam pressed his lips against yours, there was nothing romantic in the gesture. A simple brush of his lips against yours, as if there was no feeling at all. He parted and waited for you to open your eyes but nothing happened. So Sam tried again, pressing his lips a bit more forceful, again and again.

“Why isn’t it working?” Dean whispered, feeling more desperate as the seconds ticked by. Speaking of seconds, the clock chimed, announcing midnight. The witch laughed evilly, giving Dean a weary feeling.

“When the clock strikes 12, she will be dead.” The witch informed Sam and Dean, she was glad that her plan worked perfectly.

“Somebody as a gun?” He asked no one in particular. If the kiss didn’t work, maybe killing the witch would break the spell?

“Unless…” Sam started to say, thinking deeply before turning his gaze towards Dean.

“No, no, no. It couldn’t be me.” Dean shook his head, he knew you weren’t feeling anything for him. You were just friends. It was one-sided. It wouldn’t work and you were running out of time, he needed to find something else.

“Kiss her, Dean! It’s ok.” Nancy cut him short, urging him to do it.

Dean shifted from one foot to another, not liking the sudden attention on him. The clock chimed again and Dean finally moved. He knelt once again and brushed the hair that fell in front of your eyes. Gently his hand cupped the back of your neck and brought your face closer to his.

“Please, please, please.” Dean murmured as he lowered his own face.

The clock struck 12 as he pressed his lips against your cold ones, in a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he broke the kiss and looked at you, praying for your eyes to open but as he was fearing nothing happened and you remained still. You weren’t feeling the same, he knew it.

The crowd fell silent and the air around was filled with sadness as they lowered their heads.

A soft gasp left your lips as you slowly regained consciousness, your eyes falling over Dean’s teary ones. You gave him a soft smile as your hand cupped his cheek.

“I thought that I had lost you.” Dean breathed, tightening his hold around your waist.

You shook your head no before you pressed your forehead against his.

“Come on, let’s finish this movie, and let’s go back.” Dean smiled at you as he helped you to stand up.

Gently you pushed him away, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’m not coming back, Dean.”

“What?” Dean chuckled, thinking you were joking but his smile fell when he saw how serious you looked.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to live knowing this is not true. Gabriel gave me this gift and I intend to keep it. Now that I know how it feels like, I can’t let it go, Dean.” You tried to explain.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, totally lost. Why did you change your mind? Why now, after all of this? This was not supposed to go that way.

“Everything is so perfect, too perfect to be true. I don’t even think you’re really you.” You walked around the couch, stopping a few feet from the witch.

“I’m real, alright,” Dean argued, his eyes following your every move.

“Yeah, right.” You chuckled and picked up the sword on the floor. “Dean Winchester, the badass hunter who doesn’t like chick-flick moments dancing and singing? Come on…”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Dean held out his hands, silently begging you to stop what you were going to do. “Look at me, please. It’s me, I swear.”

“I’m tired of this. I don’t want to feel bad because I screwed up a case. I have enough of this burden and if I’m being honest, I can’t go back and just be friends. This, here, is better. It’s all I ever wanted without knowing it.” You said more to yourself than him. You were totally lost in your thoughts. “If I don’t end this movie, it will start again and again. It’s not perfect but it’s still better than nothing.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Dean warned but it was in vain and he could only watch you helplessly as you killed the witch. She wasn’t supposed to die like that, even Dean knew it. Everything froze around you and you gave one last glance at Dean before everything became black.

***

Dean woke up with a start. It took a few seconds for his brain to register that he was back into the bunker. Without wasting another second, Dean rushed out of his room and headed for yours. Sam and Gabriel jumped from surprise when Dean barged into the room.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, relieved that his brother was safe but Dean didn’t care, his attention focused on your still sleeping form.

“Wait. If you’re awake, why isn’t she?” Sam asked, suspecting there was a problem.

Dean licked his lips as he took a step closer to your bed. “She...she doesn’t want to.”

“What? Why?” Gabriel and Sam exclaimed at the same time.

“I don’t know, ok?” Dean yelled at them, they were too loud and he needed to think, he needed to find a way to bring you back. “Send me in there again. I’ll make her change her mind.”

Gabriel remained silent and simply stared at him. He couldn’t send him back once again. There were no more ingredients for the spell. It was only meant for two.

“Send me back, Gabriel! Now!” Dean roared, pushing the archangel hard against the wall.

“I can’t!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sam put himself between the both of them, stopping the fight before it became really serious. “What happened, there? What did you do?”

Dean tried to compose himself, giving Gabriel one last murder look. “We were in this movie, her favorite one.”

“Enchanted?” Sam asked for more precision, knowing perfectly your guilty pleasure. You weren’t shy about it.

“Yeah. We played the roles, just like Gabriel wanted. We thought that if we reached the end of the movie we would be back. Everything worked perfectly until I kissed her and…”

“You two kissed?” Sam and Gabriel asked, once again in sync. A huge smile on their faces, it did work as they expected in the end.

“Not really the main event right now!” Dean tried to keep the guys focused. “Then she said she wanted to stay and living it over and over again was better than nothing. I don’t know what she meant.” Dean added before he sat next to you, his head between his hands. He didn’t know what else he could do.

Gabriel weighed the pros and cons, all of this went too far. Without wasting another second he walked towards your bed and pressed two fingers against your forehead. You didn’t really understand what Gabriel meant but keeping you in this state for too long isn't safe anymore. He needed to wake you up. He would find another way to make you realize anyway.

However nothing happened, you were still sleeping. Watching you carefully, Gabriel noticed that your eyelids weren’t moving anymore, meaning you weren’t even dreaming.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, noticing how Gabriel’s body tensed up.

“I erased the dream but she still won’t wake up. I don’t know what’s going on. It’s not supposed to go this way.” Gabriel explained, worried filling his voice.

“So what now? She’s not even in the dream? Where is she?” Dean asked, fearing the worst.

“Like a coma, or something? I don’t know!” The archangel yelled, he was not used to this kind of problem.

“Alright,” Sam tried to put the pieces back in order. “Gabriel, is it a spell or your own magic?”

“A bit of both, I guess? But mainly a spell.” Gabriel answered.

“So there must be a cure, right?” Sam said, already leaving the room and heading for the library.

Gabriel and Dean were right behind him. The three men started to research through the many books in the library.

“Where did you find that spell?” Sam asked, they needed as much information as possible if they wanted to find the cure.

“I’ve spent a wonderful night with that witch, name was Zahia. Geez, she was wicked!” Gabriel smiled mischievously as he remembered that particular night. Quickly he cleared his throat and became serious all over again when he noticed the brothers weren’t interested in those details.

“Great, call her and tell her to bring her ass here,” Dean ordered.

“It was one hundred years ago! In Casablanca. I don’t know if she’s even alive.”

“Then start reading,” Sam mumbled, throwing Gabriel the nearest book before opening the one in front of him.

***

It has been two days and they were still clueless. Gabriel did try to find Zahia but as he suspected she was nowhere to be found. For the first time Gabriel, the Archangel was feeling desperate. Because of him, one of his best human friends (the only one) was sleeping peacefully, waiting for her death and he couldn’t not do anything to help her.

“Did you try to kiss her?” Gabriel asked Dean who closed his book, quite noisily.

“What? You believe in true love’s kiss?” Dean scoffed, having enough of it.

Sam, who came with more coffee, stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, pointing the coffee pot at his brother. “You know what? It might be worth a shot.”

“Are you crazy? There’s no way it will be that easy!” Dean argued, jumping to his feet.

“There’s always a part of truth in the legends, Dean,” Sam said calmly. “It won’t hurt to try.”

Dean shook his head, and exited the library, fuming. This was the dumbest idea they came with. After everything they went through, they should know that all that crap didn’t work. There was no such thing as ‘love is the most powerful thing in the world’ or ‘a true love’s kiss’. No, their lives were full of curses, hurt, and death. Period.

Unknowingly Dean walked into the bunker until he reached your room and was now pacing in front of your closed door. Dean remained silent for a moment, thinking hard about it. He didn’t really believe in it but Sam was right, he had nothing to lose if he tried. Dean ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily before opening your door.

Silently he walked inside and sat on the edge of your bed, taking a few minutes to look at you. You were becoming paler as the days passed, Gabriel tried his best to keep your health in good condition but the curse seemed to block most of his powers. It was just a matter of hours before you would be gone for good.

He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers while he held one of your hands with his free one. Dean took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I know our lives are far from perfect. To be honest they are crappy and I understand that you don’t want to live it anymore. Staying in your little dream was more appealing, believe me, I know how you felt. But look at what happened now, you still went down the bad path and didn’t get what you really wanted. It’s not fair.”

His voice was only a whisper, as if he was scared of waking you up when it was only what he truly wanted. He was such a mess! You were dying, without even knowing it and Dean couldn’t do anything to save you.

“I should have told you earlier, I know that. And I won’t make the same mistake, so I’m gonna tell you how I really feel about you, I hope you can hear me.”

Dean moved a bit, taking a more comfortable position.

“I’m so mad at you right now. I don’t hate you, because I can’t hate you, let’s be honest. But I’m mad, Y/N. You choose the easy way, you stopped fighting, this is not you. You’re the cool chick who fights tooth and nail and who never gives up.”

He had to stop for a short second, sniffing as he fought against the tears. His grip around your hand tightened before he kept on going.

“And that’s why I love you. You’re always reminding me there’s hope. You’re my hope, Y/N. I can’t promise you the moon or the happy endings but I can promise you that I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you. I’ve already made this promise a few years ago, I just never told anyone.”

Dean stopped stroking your cheek, cupping the back of your head instead, the exact same move that he had done earlier in your dream.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you,” Dean whispered, bringing your face closer to his before he pressed his lips against yours in another chaste kiss. Praying with all his heart that the magic would strike again.

Slowly Dean parted, his hands refusing to let go as he held his breath. He couldn’t believe it when he felt your body twitching, your eyes fluttering open slowly.

“Hey…” You smiled sleepily. “What did I miss?”

Dean smiled back at you, breathing once again as you were finally awake.

“The most heartbreaking declaration of love I’ve ever heard. A bit too cheesy but who cares?” Gabriel’s voice came from the other side of the closed door, quickly followed by a thumping noise and a cry of pain.

Dean was already planning five ways to kill him and make him suffer but your voice broke his concentration.

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like it.” You smirked when his eyes fell on you, a blush covering your cheeks.

“You heard it? All of it?” Dean asked, he wanted to be sure.

You nodded and your smile fell. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I thought it wouldn’t be possible for you to...you know?” You trailed off, looking at the wall instead of him.

“Oh, I know,” Dean said, his hand cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. “But let me show you how wrong you were instead, hum?” He whispered, bringing his face closer and kissing you again.

This one was more passionate, all of his feelings poured into the kiss. Everything he wanted to tell you but couldn’t. This kiss wasn’t chaste as the few ones you shared, in your dream or in reality. This one was needy and a little something more than what you could expect for a fairy tale movie.

FIN

Pour Toujours tags:  @drakelover78​​​​​, @akshi8278​

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Ten

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1580ish

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: usual angst, cussing, some flufffffff

A/N:  I’M BACK. All married and shit. Thanks for being patient lovies. 

if ya like it, give it a reblog/like/comment. Makes my day.

Master List // Previous Chapter

- - - 

Any rational person would sit there and wait for him or maybe get in the cab in wait, but apparently you aren't so rational, so you slip your shoes on and jump out of the bed of the truck. You use your phone as a flashlight and walk the way you think Bucky went. It was cool enough that you could just see your breath. 

Bucky was nowhere to be found. 

You turn around and head in the direction you think the truck is in. You don’t know why but you started running, calling Bucky’s name as you do. You were right on the verge of tears. Right on the edge of panic.

“Y/N! Y/N?! Where the hell are you Y/N?” Finally you hear his voice. 

“Bucky?” Finally you see his dark silhouette.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Where did you go?!” He gently grabbed your face between his hands, worry evident in his eyes, even in the dark.

“Where did I go, where did YOU go?” You pushed him away. “You left me out here all alone. It’s like the third time you’ve ran away from me Bucky! This time in a pitch dark field!”

“Shit, I’m sorry! I had to pee. I wasn’t running this time, I swear. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“You said you had to take a walk?”

He chuckled and you wondered what the joke was. “I had to pee, I didn’t want to tell you that. You’re a lady.” You grit your teeth. “Shit, doll. I was worried about you.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Shaking your head, you push past him to walk back to the truck. 

Bucky is right behind you, attempting to help you up when you get back into the truck bed, but you ignore him. “Wanna cookie? Another drink?” He sits next to you. 

You purse your lips, but nod. “A drink. Two cookies. I thought you were pissed at me?”

Bucky pauses his drink mixing and looks up at you. “I was... kinda,” he finished pouring your drink. “But, it felt good... telling you. I don’t talk about it. Maybe I should.” He shrugs. “ Are you still mad at me?”

You nod. 

“Well, I really am sorry. Look. I promise I won’t run away from you ever again, okay?” He hands you your drink and passes you the plastic container of cookies. You take a generous sip, the drink warming you as you swallow.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” You look back at the stars and see another falling star after a while. You make another wish and take another drink. “Hey Buck?”

“Yea, doll?” That damn name again.

“Maybe I am overstepping a bit. I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive… but those scars, scars in general really, are--uhm-- pretty hot.” You looked up at him. You couldn't read his face in the dark. 

“They’re hot?” 

It just spills out. “Mmhmm. I mean, you are hot anyway. But the scars don’t hurt either.” Oh the effects of alcohol and the dark and the stars. There were a few moments of silence and you took to pretending to inspect your nails in the dark. 

Bucky took a deep breath. You stole a glance at him, worried he was going to get up and ‘go for another walk’. Instead he was looking at you. 

“You think I’m hot?” His lips were fighting a smile.

You took a bit of a cookie. “I thought it was obvious that I think you’re sexy?” 

“Oh! So, I’m sexy now?” Bucky continues, voice very low and very intrigued, “Well, I think you’re sexy too, doll.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Looking up at him then, you see a smile. 

“Let me prove it to you,” he took your drink out of your hand and placed it on the end of the tailgate with his own. He brought his hand back to your cheek.

“As long as you don’t run away this time,” you snark.

Bucky threw his head back, barking a laugh. “Deal.” And then he kissed you under the stars.

--

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Bucky grinned as you got out of your car, “Hello, slick.”

“Hi Bucky.” The last time you’d seen him he’d kissed you up against your car for a good five minutes before you interrupted him with a yawn and he’d sent you home. 

Today, he met you at your door, where he gave you a kiss on the cheek. Both of you blushed like children. He filled the milk jugs as you told him about all the orders you and Grams had to do this week. Once he’d loaded the eggs into the truck he started to fidget with his ball cap.

“Well, maybe, if you have a chance… we could get lunch sometime this week?”

“I would love that, Buck. Maybe the diner? Tomorrow?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow around lunch. What about Wednesday? 12?”

“Yes.” You bit your lip, failing to suppress your huge grin. “Can’t wait. See ya then.”

“Me either. See ya doll.”

--

It was a busy day at the bakery. The bell kept ringing on the door, you had two birthday cakes to finish just today. Your list for tomorrow was even longer. You worked through lunch and had just started on the final decorations for the first one when your phone rang. You didn’t even think about answering and kept working.

A little bit later, the bell rang and Gram went to answer it, but quickly returned. “It’s for you sweetie.” You quirked eyebrow at her smirk. “It’s James.”

“Oh!” You wipe your hands of and round the corner to see Bucky sitting at the bar with two burgers and a plate of fries. You hadn’t seen him since the stargazing that night. “What a great surprise.”

“Uh… Well, I called you to see where you were, but you didn’t answer,” he pulled out a few packets of ketchup and barbeque sauce. “So I ordered your usual to go. Extra bacon.”

It hit you then. You were supposed to meet him--you check the clock--45 minutes ago at the diner. You’d completely forgot. The shop had been that busy. Your schedule had been wake up, shower, bake all day, eat a quick dinner, shower, and sleep for two days now.  

“Oh my god, I was supposed to meet you wasn’t I?” He nodded. “Oh shit. Bucky, I’m so sorry it’s been so hectic around here.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. Sit down and eat.” He smiled and took a bite of his burger and pointed a finger at yours. He waved you quiet when you started to apologize profusely. “Seriously, it’s okay. You guys have been swamped. But you still need to eat.” He winked at you.

You ate your burger quickly. Once you smell it, you realize just how hungry you are. Bucky was telling you about a livestock auction coming up in a couple of weeks and that he was thinking about getting a herding dog when he went. 

“You need to give that horse a name before you buy more pets.”

He made a face at you. “All of my animals have a purpose, Y/N. They aren’t pets.”

“Hah. You treat them like pets. You talk to them like I talked to Sharon’s cat. You’d let Cap in the house if he wasn’t so big.” 

He laughed, cocking his head. “Who is Sharon?”

You stopped chewing. “What?”

“You said I talk to animals like you talked to Sharon’s cat. Who is Sharon?” He dipped three fries into your ketchup and ate them in one bite.

“Oh… Sharon was my roommate. The one… ya know.” You pushed your leftover fries away. Appetite gone.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay… I just... Actually, I've got to get back to work. But thanks so much for lunch.” You smiled and gathered the trash. “Sorry again for totally spacing.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, slick. This was fun, we should do this again.” 

“Next time I won’t stand you up.”

“I’ll hold you to that, doll. See ya.” He winked.

“See ya Buck.”

He waved and left the shop and you returned to the kitchen. 

“That was so sweet of him to bring you lunch,” Grams says when you start rolling out more fondant. 

“Mhhmm. Even after I forgot to meet him. I’ll have to make it up to him.” You scolded yourself internally. 

“Well, he didn’t seem too bothered.” 

You nodded. 

That night you text him, but you were only able to keep your eyes open for 30 minutes before you were in dreamland. When you woke up your phone was face down beside your bed.  5% 

“Well shit.” You plugged it in. Bucky had sent you a couple messages after you’d fallen asleep. 

So what should I name that horse?

Slick?

Lol guess you fell asleep. Goodnight doll. 

You responded before you got in the shower: I did fall asleep. And forget to plug my phone into the charger haha sorry. 

It vibrated as you dried off. 

No problem. You’ve been working a lot lately. 

I was thinking about grilling some steak tonight (don’t tell the cows) 

You’re welcome to join me if you want 

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you reply: 

I love steak as long as I didn’t know it..ya know before. 

I have a delivery in town at 5 but then I’m free

He responded:

Sounds good doll see you around 5:45ish then?

Sounds good! See you then Buck

- - - 

Taglist : bless y’all for your patience 

@notatallfriendly​    @thechaoticargonaut   @booktease21  @iamwarrenspeace  @titty-teetee  @harryngtonewithyourshit 

[renlimotroll]

Call It What You Want To (part 1)

Warnings: BL/ Personification/ Imagination/ EXTREMELY OUT OF CHARACTER

Tags: LimoSiruMin Neighbor AU, toddler Ichihachi, Baby Jiraichan and Baby Quartet

Summary: Siruko has two new neighbors, and he does the only thing he can’t do. He falls in love with them.

A/N: For the sake of the story, it’s a world where boys’ love is accepted, but polyamory isn’t quite the norm. Of course anything in the story wouldn’t reflect reality in any way, are you kidding me. Please don’t take it too seriously, it’s just my imagination. I just wanted to stress-write. Don’t read if it will only make you cringe. Thank you. You have been warned. 🍋🐶🤖

Chapter 1

Siruko held the tiny hands with his fingers, and his heart just swells up everytime he looks at them. He was finally able to put down Quartetchi and Jiraichan to sleep, and Siruko’s not being biased here, but they’re the cutest babies in the world. At thirteen months old, both babies show signs of intelligence and good motor skills, but Siruko doesn’t care about that. All he wants is for them to grow up healthy and happy.

Something tugs his shirt, and Siruko looks down to see the other reason for his living. Three-year-old Ichihachi timidly hands him the book they’ve been reading the night before. Sometimes he can’t believe how fast Ichihachi is growing and wants time to stop just for a little while, just so his little boy can still stay little for a short while.

The years haven’t been easy for Siruko. Three years ago, his ex-girlfriend left Ichihachi to him and ran away with the guy she’s been cheating on him with, which happens to be Ichihachi’s father. Siruko doesn’t really care; frankly, the girl only used him for his money, and he can’t say he loved her that much. It was really hard taking care of a baby all by himself, but Ichihachi was the best thing that ever happened to him. He had always wanted kids, and though it was a little bit early, it was fine. As far as the world knows, Ichihachi is his child, and he loves him so much he’ll give him the world and more.

Then, two years later, he found two babies in an abandoned basket behind the garbage dump. He would have missed it; the babies weren’t crying or anything. It was Ichihachi who led him to them, when Siruko for a moment took his eyes off of him to tie his own shoe lace. Ichihachi liked cats, and he followed one on his own, to the best his small toddler legs can take him. Siruko almost had a panic attack when he looked up and didn’t see him, until he saw the brown scarf he wrapped him with trailing on the ground. He snagged the small boy immediately and hugged him; his heart rapidly beating within his ribcage, afraid to lose his son. Ichihachi, of course, oblivious to Siruko’s worry, just patted his cheek to get his attention and mumbled, “Touchan, touchan.” He followed the direction where Ichihachi’s small finger was pointing, to find two small babies wrapped in gray and pink blankets. His chest hurt seeing them abandoned like this, how could anyone just abandon their children? Siruko sighed to himself; if he didn’t get any answer to that from Ichihachi’s mother, then he sure won’t get it here in the garbage dump. After checking that the babies were not hurt or anything, he called the authorities. The babies cooed at him adorably and even grinned gummily at him. Siruko knew there and then that he had to adopt them, no matter what it takes. His heart was already captivated, and with a few favors and pulling strings and money throwing here and there, in six months he was able to take them home. He learned that the two babies were not related, and Siruko promised to give them a home and a family.

Sure it was tough, but it was also rewarding. Siruko was really happy. It would be nice to have a companion, a partner, but that seems impossible now that he doesn’t have time for dating, and no one really wants a man with three kids as a baggage. He’s content with his children though, and sometimes his friends, brother and parents come to help him. He’s really at a good place in his life, in a nice apartment building in a small, old city.

Apparently, said apartment building has new occupancy. Both his neighbors to the left and right of his unit were leaving, and Siruko was a bit sad because they were really nice people. He just hoped the new neighbors would be understanding of the noises his children make, not that they make a ruckus though. Ichihachi is an angel, and both Quartet and Jiraichan rarely cry, except when other people hold them. His children are the best, no bias there. Plus, the units have pretty thick walls anyway.

One evening, when the babies have finally settled down and he has read Ichihachi’s bedtime story, after spending a little time watching his kids sleep (so cute), Siruko stretched and yawned. He still has some work to do, so, after taking the baby monitor and turning on Ichihachi’s cat night lamp, he went to his work space so he can open his laptop and check his notifications.

Or he would, had there not been a knock on the door. Siruko glanced at the clock and wondered who in the world would knock on his door at midnight.

Groaning internally and checking quickly to look if he’s wearing something decent (a red shirt and really short black shorts, oops), he trudged his way to the door, hoping his irritation didn’t show in his face.

Opening the door revealed a tall man with glasses, short green hair and emerald eyes. Really striking emerald eyes. Oh. Wow.

Said man smiled a little and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Hi. Sorry we had to meet this way, I’m Mintosu.” He bowed slightly and Siruko came back to senses and remembered, right, manners, and mirrored the bow a bit lower.

“I’m your new neighbor, just came in two days ago. Hadn’t had the chance to greet anyone yet because I was busy unpacking. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, don’t worry about it.” Siruko replied, clearing his throat afterwards. He sounded so hoarse and tired, yikes. Wait, since when did he care about his voice? “I’m Siruko. I have three kids, so I’m apologizing in advance for any racket.”

“Oh! Of course, it’s no big deal. Kids are cute.” Mintosu grinned again, and Siruko blinked. That’s… really distracting.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’ve got any coffee left? I really need to finish some work and it’s my unlucky day coz I ran out and it’s midnight, I forgot to check out where the supermarkets are in the area and I wasn’t sure where the convenience stores are too.” The man spoke really fast and slurred his words together, so it took a second for Siruko to process what his new neighbor was saying, but really, his voice sounds really nice. Siruko won’t mind listening to it again and again.

“Ah! Coffee! Right!” Siruko startled out of his thoughts and went to the kitchen, fetching the extra bag he had. He handed it to his new neighbor, fingers brushing accidentally. 

Mintosu’s beam grew wider. “Thanks! Appreciate it! I owe u one!”

“No problem!”

“It was really nice to meet you.” The man said earnestly before he left. “Hope I can see you and the kids around soon.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Siruko smiled pleasantly. He watched Mintosu go back to his own apartment to the right, bowing slightly as they caught gazes again. His new neighbor seems really nice, he thought, as he closed the door and went back to work.

Two weeks later, Siruko bumped into his second new neighbor in the elevator. His brother Hakotaro was watching the kids as he ran a few errands and picked up the groceries. He couldn’t really see anything from the huge paper bag he was hugging and the several plastic bags hanging from his arms, so it was more of a feeling that he hit someone.

“I’m sorry!”

“Need any help there?” A deep, frankly quite sexy voice asked. Siruko wasn’t even able to respond when the paper bag he was clutching tightly was gently pulled by someone, and the weight disappeared. As his view cleared, a man with gorgeous light blue locks appeared in front of him. He was wearing piercings, but he was also wearing a suit. What.. what is it with meganes lately? Why does Siruko find them attractive so suddenly? Where are they all coming from?

“T-thank you.” Siruko bowed as deeply as he could.

“Don’t mention it. I’m Limone, by the way. My friends call me ‘Sensei’. You can call me that too.” The man chuckled. His eyes were a beautiful shade of cerulean and it was really captivating.

“I’m Siruko. I haven’t seen you here before, are you visiting someone?”

“Oh, actually I’m new here! I just arrived yesterday, and today my moving-in gifts just arrived so I’ll drop them by your place tomorrow. Sorry I can’t personally give them, I have a meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. Welcome to the building.”

The elevator dinged open, and they both tried to step out, surprising each other, their arms brushing. Limone-sensei stepped back to let Siruko through first, and Siruko thought, wow he’s a gentleman too.

“Umm… by the way, are you the Siruko? The youtuber?”

“Ahh…” Siruko sighed deeply, forcing a smile. “Yep, that’s me.”

Limone-sensei turned serious. “Hey, I won’t tell anyone, I promise, don’t worry.” He seemed sincere enough, so Siruko smiles genuinely this time. “I watched some of your videos and I thought I recognized your voice. But say… what are you doing in a simple apartment building like this?”

“Ah, well… Used to share it with ex-gf until she ran away with someone else, the usual story.” Shiruko shrugged.

Sensei shook his head lightly. “Tsk. That’s the worst. She doesn’t deserve you anyway.” Siruko had to chuckle at that. They arrived at his apartment, and he fished for his keys.

“Oh, Um… looks like we’re neighbors. I live to your left.”

“Really? That’s a nice coincidence. By the way, I’m apologizing in advance for the noise. I have three kids, 2 babies and a toddler.”

“Oh yeah?” Sensei looked excited. “I like babies. They’re so cute.”

Siruko was finally able to unlock the door, so Sensei gave him back the paper bag. “It was nice to meet you, Siruko-san!”

“Likewise! Thanks for carrying my groceries, Sensei!” The man waved as he strolled back to his own apartment. Okay, Siruko now has two hot, really nice neighbors. What in the world is happening?

“I saw your landlord Oshin-san a while ago. He said you have new neighbors?” His friend Gzira asked while helping Ichihachi change into his outdoor clothes. For some reason, the toddler really likes wearing scarves, so Gzira wrapped the young boy in a yellow one today.

“Un! I talked to them, they’re really nice!” Siruko commented while double-checking the diaper bag. The two babies were in the stroller, babbling at each other in baby language.

Gzira had to do a double-take. “Wait, you talked to people not me and your brother?”

Siruko frowned. “Hey, I’m perfectly capable of talking to other people!”

“Yeah, your subscribers, two babies who can’t even form words, and a toddler who knows maybe about 20 words do count as an engaging conversation.”

“Why am I friends with you?” The purple head sulked.

Gzira laughed that really contagious laugh of him. “Didn’t we establish that it’s because you don’t really talk to other people?”

Siruko stuck out his tongue at his friend, not that it really helped him prove his point. Ichihachi giggled adorably at his otouchan. “To my left is Limone-sensei. He helped me with groceries and he has piercings but he wears suits. He’s really nice. To my right, his name is Mintosu but he said I can call him Minben-san, and he gave me back really delicious coffee when he ran out and I gave him my extra. They’re both meganes and really handsome.”

Gzira blinked and stared at him strangely. “What?” Siruko paused his rambling.

“Handsome?” Gzira asked, laughter in his voice. He even waggled his eyebrows to tease.

“Oh, shut up.” Siruko glared at his friend. “Yeah yeah, my two new nice neighbors are hot, but they wouldn’t want to do anything with me, the lonely guy with 3 kids to raise.”

Gzira sighed. “Siruko-san, don’t talk about yourself like that. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have you! You’re smart, attractive, and really kind.”

Siruko smiled sadly. “Thanks, Gzira-kun.” He made one last final check. “Okay, who’s ready to go to the park?”

“Look, Quartetchi, the airplane is coming!” Siruko made engine noises and tried to feed the baby the mashed sweet potato, but the gray baby stubbornly turned his head away. “C'mon, Quartetchi! Jiraichan ate it just fine! Look, it’s delicious!” Siruko made the show of eating it, gagging slightly at the texture. Quartetchi pounded the table with his chubby fist and cackled at that.

Siruko mock-glared. “Sometimes I think you’re just messing with me on purpose, my cute yankee baby.” Quartetchi just blew him raspberries and laughed at his own spit flying. Jiraichan gurgled.

He heard a knock on the door and sighed. The babies look at him curiously. “This battle isn’t over.”

He opened the door to see a smiling Mintosu. “Oh, hi Minben-san!” Siruko greeted.

“Hey,” the green-haired man greeted back. “Some of your mail was dropped in my mailbox, so I thought I’d give it back. Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed again, and Siruko felt the electricity. Just then, peals of laughter came from the kitchen, and Siruko smiled fondly despite himself.

“Were those the babies?” Mintosu asked curiously, reflecting Siruko’s smile. “Ah, your wife must be there too.”

“Oh nonono, I don’t have a wife. Just the single dad, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Hmm..” Mintosu nodded, considering. He seemed to perk up at Siruko’s words, though the purplehead doesn’t have any idea why.

Just then, they heard the sound of a door opening and they both looked. “Oh hey, Siruko-san!” Sensei greeted cheerfully, then frowned upon seeing the guy in front of purplehead. “Mintosu-san.”

Mintosu seemed to deflate a little too, glaring slightly. “Sensei.”

Siruko blinked at the sudden hostility and cold atmosphere between the two guys.“What’s up, Sensei?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And you? The kids?”

“My eldest currently hates me because I tried to bathe him, and I’m negotiating with the babies over mashed vegetables, but everything’s fine! Thanks!”

Both meganes chuckled at him, and Siruko blinked. He wasn’t that funny.

“Listen, I gotta go to work, but it was lovely seeing you, Siruko-san.” Sensei smiled at him, then grunted to the other. “See ya pal.”

“Yeah.”

When Sensei left, Siruko asked tentatively. “So… you and Sensei are not… fond of each other?”

Mintosu sighed. “We’ve been really good friends for a long time actually. We just have an… ongoing disagreement.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah…” The green guy pursed his lips in thought. “Both of us… want the same thing. Classic jealousy trope, you can say. It’s hard to explain.”

“Ah,” Siruko nodded, understanding. “I hope you two figure it out!”

Mintosu eyed him thoughtfully. “Me too.”

The next day, there was another knock on his door. Siruko has never gotten this many knocks on his door before.

“Hey, sorry to disturb you. I just… I think I baked too many cookies so I thought I’d share some.” Sensei smiled sheepishly, holding out a bag of cookies which looked really delicious.

Before Siruko could answer, Ichihachi appeared out of nowhere and clutched his legs. The boy must have heard cookies and came as quickly as he could.

“Is this Ichihachi-kun?” Sensei crouched so he could talk to the toddler. “Hey buddy, my name is Limone-sensei, nice to meet you! You want some cookies?” The blue guy handed him the bag gently. Ichihachi looked up to Siruko first for approval, then shyly took the bag. “Fank you tente~”, he tiptoed to peck the cheek of the teacher. Sensei broke out a large smile at that and patted the boy’s head. “Sure buddy!”

When Ichihachi ran back to the living room, Sensei stood up. “He’s so cute, Siruko-san. He must have you wrapped around his finger.”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” Suddenly, a cry rang out within the room, and Siruko panicked. “Matte yo, Sensei!” And he dashed to the nursery.

Jiraichan was crying because he just woke up, and Siruko sighed in relief. Lately, the baby was fussy because he was teething. He quickly tried to snatch Jiraichan up so that Quartetchi won’t wake up, but it was too late. Quartetchi started crying when he saw his brother crying.

“Right, good morning everyone. Hai hai, I’ll go get some milk.”

“Sorry, Ichihachi dragged me in. Are those babies?” Sensei said, making Siruko jump a little. He had honestly forgotten he was talking to Sensei earlier. “Ah, do you need some help? I can carry one of them, I know how to hold and everything.”

“Aaah, jyaa, can you hold Jiraichan for a second? I’ll just go get the bottles.” Siruko handed him the pink baby, who stopped crying when he saw Sensei. Siruko was actually nervous inside, anticipating the reaction of the baby while he got Quartetchi out of the crib and calmed him down.

Sensei bounced the baby twice in his arms, cooing a little. Jiraichan suddenly broke into a toothless smile and babbled happily. “Dada!”

Both Siruko and Sensei lifted their eyebrows in surprise and their eyes widened. “W-was that his first word?” Sensei whispered in awe.

“Y-yeah. I usually call myself ‘Otouchan’ so I don’t know where he got that. Actually, I’m a bit jealous.”

“Wow.” Sensei mouthed. The baby poked Sensei’s cheek to get his attention, and Siruko could see Sensei swooning for the baby. Actually, he also might be swooning for Sensei right now. Oh no.

“This is awesome! Thanks for letting me hold him, Siruko-san. And yes, it’s nice to meet you too Jiraichan.” Sensei kissed the baby’s forehead, and yep, that does butterflies to Siruko’s stomach.

This isn’t good.

A week later, at around 8:30 in the evening, there was another knock to his door. Seriously, was the doorbell not working?

“Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I got locked out of my apartment, and I really need a place to crash. I’ll get my keys tomorrow morning, don’t worry.” Mintosu greeted with his usual ramble and Siruko just chuckled.

“Of course, you’re welcome here!” He opened the door and led him to the sofa. “Sorry if the babies cry or anything.”

“I don’t really mind, I’m just glad I don’t have to sleep on my doorstep tonight.”

Just then, Ichihachi, who just finished dinner, came to the living room. “Can I watch Pokemon now Touchan?”

“Oh sure, kitten, come here.”

“Hey lil guy! I’m Minben-san, nice to meet you! You like Pokemon?” Ichihachi nodded, and Mintosu fished something out of his bag.

“Tada! Do you wanna play together?” He held up his Switch, and Siruko snickered. He totally expected that the guy was a gamer. He had that aura.

Ichihachi glanced at Siruko again, and when Siruko nodded, he shyly trodded over Mintosu, climbing up his lap. Minben-san maneuvered him perfectly, then loaded the game. Ichihachi’s eyes widened like two plates and looked so excited.

“Oh no, he might erase your progress Minben-san.”

“No worries, it’s okay.” He chuckled. Siruko decides it’s not weird to like that. “Jyaa, is it ok to get some work done? I’ll leave the two of you there.”

“Sure.” Minben-san said. Ichihachi didn’t even look at him, too engrossed at the game already. The picture they made, his toddler, eyes fixated on the screen, sitting on the lap of his neighbor who was trying to entertain him with funny voices and teaching him how to control the character even though Ichihachi doesn’t understand a thing, is really cute and makes Siruko’s heart swell.

Wow, Siruko was able to actually get a lot of work done, and when he checks the clock, it’s already bedtime for Ichihachi. He arrives at the living room and stands there quietly for a while, observing them. Ichihachi was trying so hard to stay awake, but he was yawning and nodding off. The way he rubs his eyes was so cute, no bias. Minben-san was talking a lot as usual, but his tone was softer and gentler. Siruko really wants to capture a picture of this.

“Okay, time to sleep, kitten. Say good night to Minben-san and we’ll brush your teeth and drink milk.”

“G’nite Minben-san.” Ichihachi said, then pecked the guy’s cheek. Mintosu.exe stopped working and Siruko totally laughed out loud. He could see the exact moment Mintosu’s brain short-circuited.

Mintosu recovered though, and he kissed the boy’s hair as he let him down the sofa. “Good night, baby boy. Sweet dreams.”

“Sorry, I’ll just help him get ready, then I’ll go get your blankets and stuff. If you’re thirsty or anything, just raid the kitchen, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, I’m fine.”

When he got Ichihachi all settled down and read him the bed night story, Siruko sighed in contentment. The young toddler usually doesn’t like people, and is very shy and withdrawn around them. Seeing him being very affectionate and attached to Sensei and Minben-san makes Siruko’s heart fill with warmth. Anymore of this cuteness and he might need to have his heart checked.

The baby monitor picked up some sounds of hiccuping and whimpering. Siruko hurried towards the nursery and turned on the lights to see Jiraichan having a bunch of Quartetchi’s hair in his fists. How Quartetchi didn’t wail out loud in pain and just whimpered, Siruko-san will never know. Poor baby, his mewls were heart-breaking.

“Hey hey, Jiraichan let go of your brother!!” Siruko scolded, prying the pink baby’s hands open. “You naughty kid, tsk tsk.” He immediately lifted the gray baby up and rubbed his back, trying to stop the poor baby’s sniffles. “Mou Jiraichan, we don’t hit anyone here!” The pink baby just pouted at him.

Siruko suddenly realized that Minben-san was waiting in the living room, and face-palmed himself internally. “Okay guys, since you’re awake, let’s go meet Minben-san. Be nice, okay? And no hair-pulling, Jiraichan.” He warned.

Minben-san was standing in the living room looking at the family pictures, and he almost dropped one when he heard Siruko-san, thank goodness he has quick reflexes and caught it before it shattered to a million pieces. He muttered a quick “gomen” before his eyes widened in delight. “Are these the babies?”

“Yeah. Do you mind holding Quartetchi? He’s crying because the little fairy psychopath pulled his hair.”

“Aww champ, it’s okay. Yosh yosh.” Minben-san took Quartet from his arm, and the gray baby stopped crying immediately and blinked at the new guy. They stared at each other, one with blank surprise, and the other one making silly faces. Siruko tensed, waiting for Quartetchi to cry.

“Papa!” Both men startled and stared at the gray baby in shock.

“T-that’s Quartetchi first word… and Jiraichan said his last week, he called Sensei ‘Dada’. Mouuu, why do my own kids not call their own father ‘Touchan’??” Siruko pouted jealously.

Minben-san blinked his shock out and chuckled, not breaking eye contact with the baby. He swayed him lightly, sitting down on the sofa. “Nice to meet you too, Quartet-san. I’m honored.” He held the baby’s little hand with his finger and shook it.

A few minutes later, as Siruko fed Jiraichan with a bottle on the sofa while Mintosu was playing upsy daisy with a squealing Quartetchi, Siruko couldn’t help himself and asked. “So um… are you and Sensei…?

“Yeah… still in a fight.”

“Oof. Still? That’s why you came here and not there, huh.”

“Yeah. It’s… It’s probably our biggest fight ever, but both of us won’t back down, and the thing we want… it means the world to us both. It’s complicated.”

Siruko’s brows furrowed in contemplation. “What in the world could be so important to fight your friend with for months??”

Mintosu shrugged, and Siruko knew to drop the conversation. Both babies yawned loudly at the same time, melting both Siruko and Mintosu’s heart.

“Do you mind helping me put them back in the crib?”

“Let’s go.”

Later, when Minben-san put them down and kissed both their foreheads and wished them goodnight, does Siruko realize he’s screwed. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, suddenly longing.

Oh no, he’s in trouble.

“I have a question.”

Hakotaro was helping Ichihachi color his book on the floor, while Gzira was letting Jiraichan climb all over him on the sofa. Siruko was on the other couch, handing Quartet the big soft blocks for his tower. It was more of a tetris game at this point than making a tower, but Siruko encouraged the baby and clapped the whole time.

“Is it possible to fall in love with two guys at the same time?”

Hakotaro coughed out loud several times, earning a worried look from his nephew. Gzira opened his mouth in a perfect O.

“Are… are these the two megane hot neighbors?”

“Who?!” Hakotaro asked in his disbelief.

Siruko answered in a tiny voice. “ I… may have accidentally fallen in love with both my neighbors at the same time.”

“What?!”

“It… just happened?” Siruko offered.

“Why?!”

“Are you just gonna ask one-word questions, Hakotaro?”

“Ok ok, let me handle this Hakotaro-san.” Gzira placated. “Umm… I think it’s possible. Polyamory is not unheard of. You should talk it with them, if they agree.”

“What? No!” Siruko drew his eyebrow together. “I’m not gonna confess or anything like that. Are you insane?”

“You’re the one who said you loved them, Niisan!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna do anything about it! Look at me, who’s going to date a sad loser like me with more issues than kids?”

Hakotaro and Gzira looked at each other in silent understanding. His friend sighed sadly. “Siruko-san, stop that. I told you before, anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“Yes, do tell your insecurities to shut up, Niisan. I don’t really like talking about your dating life, but all I know is that it’s not that hard to love you. You take care of the people important to you really well, and you’re wrong, because many people love you because of who you are.”

Siruko was really touched, but as usual, he covers up his self-depreciation with humor. “Awww Hakotaro, do you wanna marry me instead?”

“Ew. I do love you Niisan, but getting married to you would be the definition of hell.”

“Awww I love you too.”

Hakotaro face-palmed. “Of all the times to focus on the positive, of course you only heard the word ‘love’.”

Gzira-kun laughed and it was really contagious.

After that, Siruko-san tried to avoid his neighbors. He still greeted them, but if he suddenly had something to do or forgot something at home, his neighbors would never know. He avoided too much interaction, just casually talked and smiled. He even used the kids as an excuse sometimes. If Sensei and Minben-san looked confused and hurt, he pretended not to see. All to protect his heart from falling further.

After all, it was for the best.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Click this for Part 2~ Drop by my Twitter too! Have a nice day!!🌻

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Second Chance at Forever - Chapter 14

Chapter 14 of this year’s entry for the @dwsecretsanta, my present to @wordsintimeandspace!  Beta’d by the always-kind @stupidsatsuma​.  Thank you!

@doctorroseprompts​ and @timepetalscollective​ as an AU fic

General warnings for: alcohol use, cursing, discussions of sexual activities and mature situations.  No explicit love scenes.

Masterlist

AO3

Summary

Once upon a time, a boy and girl met at a bar and fell in love - until he ghosted her.

Five years later Rose Tyler’s best friend Mickey is getting married, and arranges a dinner for her to meet the groomsman she’ll be walking with - unaware that the two already know each other.

John Noble’s not sure how his friend and mentee managed to connive with the Universe to bring the One Who Got Away back into his life; all he knows it carefully built and maintained walls are crashing to the ground with no warning.

At first, John’s few functioning brain cells assumed the noise was his pulse beating in his ears.  He and Rose were tangled on the couch, her hand in his pants while his were occupied at her chest. They were kissing frantically, sloppily, too focused on the pleasure they were bringing their partner to concentrate properly.

Then he heard his name.  Not just the sexy way Rose was whispering it, but his sister’s obnoxious loudmouth calling for him.

Reluctantly tearing his mouth away from hers, he propped himself up slightly and strained to listen.

“No, shh, John,” Rose pleaded, and the way she said it meant he wasn’t imagining things.

“Please tell me my sister’s not outside our door.”

She pulled him back to her by his half-undone tie, mouth latching onto his adam’s apple.  “She’ll go away.  Don’t stop.”

The choice was taken away from him by the door slamming open, and they both moaned in regret.  With no time to hide what they’d been up to, John just shifted higher to cover Rose’s bare chest as Donna stalked in.

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me,” the redhead fumed as she came around the couch and found them lying together.  “I’ve been calling for an hour!”

“Go away,” John said firmly, knowing if she had gone to the effort of showing up something was seriously wrong but wanting to hold onto denial a few moments longer.  “We’re busy.”

“You have the rest of your lives to shag,” Donna was unsympathetically blunt.  “But I need Rose, now.”

“So do I,” he muttered before her words processed.  “Wait, what?”

Rose wriggled beneath him, achieving nothing more than torturing him.  “Donna, can you give us a minute?  Maybe wait in the kitchen?”

Standing above them with her arms crossed, lit by the moonlight coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows, Donna cut an imposing figure.  “I’ll be at the window.  Don’t you dare do anything but stand up and put yourself back together.”  She spun on her heel, walking the few yards to stare out at the city.

Glancing down at Rose, he held her eye for a moment before she pinched his side.  Sighing heavily he stood, offering Rose a hand up.  It didn’t take them long to make themselves presentable, though John winced as his zipper made a loud noise in the otherwise quiet room.

Once they were ready Rose turned on the light on the end table, bathing the room in a soft glow.  “Sorry, Donna.  What’s going on?”

Donna returned to them, and the two women sat gingerly.  Not quite ready to meet his sister’s eye and needing time to get himself under control, John busied himself in the kitchen preparing tea.  He couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but didn’t need to; he knew his sister, and it would have to be an absolute crisis at work to show up at Rose’s door unannounced at midnight.

Fetching Rose’s purse from where it had dropped by the door, he fished out her phone and plugged it into the charger on the counter.  Sure enough the screen showed more than a dozen missed texts and calls from Donna. Fixing each a cuppa to taste, he brought them back to the sitting area just as Rose buried her head in her hands.

“Here, love.”  He would be lying to say he wasn’t irritated at the interruption, but made a conscious effort to clear his expression before she looked up.  Whatever was wrong wasn’t her fault, or at least not deliberately with the intention of ruining their night.  She had been plenty understanding the few times he’d been called away for a medical emergency, not least of which being his month-long trip to Haiti; now it was his turn.

A relationship, a marriage, like the one they were building would only succeed with equality.  Support went both ways, and he would be damned before he gave her any reason to hesitate about his commitment.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, settling one palm on Rose’s back as she sank into his side, blowing gently on her tea.

“This morning Rose presented a new spread to our- her biggest client, and the meeting went well, they loved it,” Donna sighed, watching Rose with sympathy.  “But… the meeting was with the number two guy.  Apparently when he presented it to his boss, at ten o’clock tonight no less, she flipped her shit.  We’ll lose the account if it’s not redone to new specs by eight Friday morning.  It took more than an hour to negotiate them down to that, if you can believe.  The owner wanted it Monday morning, but Harriet – the owner of our firm convinced her that was unreasonable.  If they like what we come up with by Friday, they’ll pay for both sets of designs and stay clients; if Yvonne doesn’t, she won’t pay a penny and will pull her business.”

“And she’s an important client?” John gathered.

Rose moaned.  “Millions of pounds a year.  We’ve been working on this for months, it was perfect.  Witch.”

“What can I do to help?”

His girlfriend straightened up with a pout.  “Not much, I’m afraid.  I’m going to have to work pretty much straight through to get this done in time, even with the extra help Harriet’s promised me.”

“Then you’ll do that,” he said brusquely, already formulating and discarding half a dozen plans.  “I’ll handle everything else.  Take a shower, wash your face.  I’ll have some war supplies ready for you by the time you’re done.  Go, go.”

Rose stood, taking the time to lean down and kiss him.  “We really will have to wait for after the wedding now,” she whispered, but he just shook his head, pressing his lips to hers.

“Don’t worry about that.  Do what you need to.”  As soon as she disappeared down the hall he went into crisis mode, heading for the kitchen and pulling out canvas bags, his sister trailing behind.

“So, sorry for interrupting what I walked in on,” Donna mentioned, leaning against the countertop.

“Me too,” was all he said, focusing on his plan.  Grabbing down every insulated travel mug they had, he started filling them with tea before refilling the kettle for more.  Opening the snack cabinet, he pulled out everything relatively healthy and started throwing it in a bag.  “Can you...”  Gesturing towards the whistling kettle he didn’t wait for a response, heading for the bedroom.

Locating her overnight bag in the back of her closet, he efficiently packed two changes of clothes and comfortable shoes.  A quick raid of her gym bag produced on-the-go toiletries, which got tossed in as well. Returning to the kitchen with a detour to drop the bag by the door, he took over the tea-making, tightly closing the lid of the last travel mug by the time Rose reappeared in yoga pants and a tee, one it took him a moment to realize came from his own drawer unless she’d gone to Cambridge Med School without telling him.

“Right, I’ll head in and get started, Donna, go home and get some rest.  I’ll need you first thing,” she started, before stopping to stare at the now-cluttered counter.  “What’s all this?”

“Supplies,” John shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter.  Donna’s gaze was burning a hole in the side of his head, making him flush, but he refused to feel ashamed of showing how much he loved Rose.

She slowly shook her head, expression softening.  “I know you said… thank you, John.”

“Anything for you.  There’s also a bag by the door.”

Padding up to him, she tugged him down for a firm kiss, momentarily sucking at his bottom lip before releasing him.  “I love you.”

“Love you too.  You’re taking a cab, yeah?”

Rose nodded.  “I’ll text you, but probably won’t be home before tomorrow night.  Er, tonight, I guess,” she corrected herself, seeing the time. “Don’t forget to feed the cat.”

“I won’t.  Now, shoo.  The sooner you go the sooner you can come back.”

With one last kiss for her and a wave to his sister, the girls were gone in a whirlwind, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Tardis came barreling in then, jumping up onto the counter and nosing around some of the food he’d left out.  John sighed, pushing her away and starting to restore the room to normalcy.

“Guess it’s you and me now, girl.”

The next day was Saturday, and he puttered around the flat for part of the morning before deciding to unpack some of the boxes sitting around.  Most of them were books, cds, and knickknacks, and he took his time arranging them just so.  Rose had cleared some space for his things, and he killed some time reorganizing for fun.

He spent the afternoon polishing the finals for his various classes, drawing up study guides and planning the last week of lessons.  By teatime he was bored and lonely, unable to remember how he’d survived on his own for so many years.  The cat was somewhat of a comfort, having a living creature there to talk to instead of thin air.

Rose appeared around nine, taking a shower and scarfing down a salad before collapsing into bed.  Despite the early hour he went with her at her request, holding her close in the dark as she slept.  When he woke at dawn she was already gone, and he trudged through most of the day in a grumpy mood.

When five rolled around and he didn’t hear from her he texted her himself.

How’s it going?

She responded almost instantly.  Ugh.  Ok, I guess, but UGH, with an angry person emoji attached for good measure.

Dinner?

Probably takeaway in a few hours.  Too busy.  Sorry.  This time, the tiny face was pouting.

Tapping the phone against his thigh as he debated, he ran his idea past Tardis.  “What do you think, girl?”

He took the meowing for a yes.

“Ugh, that’s not going to work,” Rose groaned, throwing her pen on the table in front of her and closing her eyes in frustration.  The office was empty on a Sunday evening except for them, so they’d taken over the main conference room to make use of the large whiteboards.  She was incredibly grateful to the ragtag team Harriet had scrambled together for her, but so far all they had to show was a lot of terrible ideas and a few with potential.  The idea was out there, just waiting to be had, but they were running on fumes at this point.  “Let’s… let’s take a break for a few minutes, order some dinner.  Yeah?”

There were five of them; Rose and Donna of course, and to her surprise Harriet as well.  Her boss and mentor had roped in one of the more junior girls, a lovely if too-perky woman named Mel, and an intern named Bill, who had lots of brilliant out-of-the-box ideas that would work for any other client, but not Yvonne.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Donna commented, staring behind her.  “Look.”

Rose looked over her shoulder, gasping when she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.  Jumping from her chair, she hurried to the door and threw it open to let John and two other men in.  She didn’t know who they were, but one carried pizza boxes and the other a bag of chips and pop, so she didn’t care.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked in delight, throwing her arms around John.  He hugged her back, the bags he carried thumping against her spine but she didn’t care, too happy to see him.

“I brought reinforcements and some temporary help, hope that’s all right.”

Mindful of the glass walls of the conference room she didn’t snog the daylights out of him like she wanted to, merely squeezed tighter.  “Thank you.”

Taking one of the bags from him they walked in together to find one of the two men already regaling the women with a lively story.

“Jack,” John said in a warning tone, and the man turned with a smile.  He was handsome, tall and broad shoulders, and if she didn’t have John he would’ve been just her type.

“What?  Trying to lighten the mood!”

“That’s what the food is for.”  The other man was dressed in a three-piece suit, and said it with such a resigned, fond air that said maybe Rose wasn’t Jack’s type after all.  “You all look like you need a break, come eat.”

“Thanks, Yan.”  Donna was first to the food, the other three exchanging bewildered looks as they followed her.

“Yes, thank you…” Harriet trailed off expectantly, raising an eyebrow at Rose as she put some salad on a paper plate.

“Oh!  Of course.  Um, Harriet, this is my boyfriend John, and… I honestly have no idea.”

Donna snorted.  “Pretty boy is Jack, he’s a friend of ours, and this is Ianto.  Hopefully here to be our barista?” she smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes up at Ianto and making him laugh.

“Certainly.”

Everyone filled a plate, relaxing at the conference table to eat and chat.  Settling down with John next to her, Rose grinned to see her team come alive again.  Using her left hand to eat, she laid her right on his thigh under the table, squeezing in thanks.  Glancing at her he grinned, taking her hand with his as they ate.

After an hour Jack cleared his throat, smiling as the laughter from his last story died down.  “Now, I believe we’ve taken up enough of your time and recharged your batteries.  We can go if you’d like to get back to work.”

Donna bolted upright, eyes going wide.  “Jack!”

“Donna!”

“I’m an idiot!” she gushed.  “You used to work for Yvonne Hartman, didn’t you?”

Jack and Ianto exchanged glances.  “We both did, why?”

Rose followed Donna’s train of thought.  “Oh, perfect!  We can’t confirm or deny if she’s a client of ours, but would you mind if we bounced some ideas off you that she might like?”

Jack’s eyebrow raised, but he nodded.  “Absolutely.  What’s going on?”

The week passed slowly, Rose spending the majority of her time at the office and coming home only to sleep.  John took the opportunity to greatly extend his office hours, and was pleased that most of his students stopped by at least once.

When he would finally pack up he’d call for takeaway, stopping by Rose’s office so she could take a break and they could eat together.  The team had been good for brainstorming, but Rose was handling most of the work to keep consistency.  He would fill their dinner hour with teaching anecdotes and stories from his travels, doing his best to keep Rose laughing and at ease.

Once she’d get back to work he would pull out his laptop, sometimes taking up her couch or working at Donna’s desk if she needed the room to herself.  He had plenty of his own work to keep busy with, and the hours would pass quickly until she was ready to call it a night.

When her alarm went off at five on Friday morning, he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her against him.

“Jo-ohn, I’ve gotta go,” she whined, nonetheless happily rolling into his chest and burrowing down.

“In a minute,” he promised, “just need a morning cuddle.  And to talk to you.”

“Mhmm?”

“Can you come home after your presentation?”

Rose tensed in his arms for a minute, before sighing.  “Depends on what Yvonne decides.”

“You’ve had a long week, and you need a break,” he said firmly.  “The rehearsal’s tonight, the wedding tomorrow, and you should decompress first.  Even if it’s to come home and nap.”

“Is that your suggestion as a doctor?” she teased, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“Yep.”  He patted her bum before releasing her.  “Think about it, I’ll be here all day unless a crisis comes up.”

Rose rolled out of bed, stretching her arms above her head before moving towards the shower.  “I’ll text you one way or another.”

Watching her bum sway as she moved, he wished the wedding would be over soon so he could finally follow her in.

Two more days.

John looked up from the textbook he was reading, brow furrowed.  Music was coming from the hall, but before he could go see what it was, the song coalesced into We Are the Champions, and he stood grinning as Rose burst into the flat.

“-keep on fighting, til the end!”  Kicking off her heels and dropping her purse at the door, she sprinted towards him and leapt into his arms, laughing.

“I take it the presentation went well?” he rumbled, holding her tighter as she sprinkled kisses over his face.

“It went perfectly,” she gushed, wrapping her legs around his waist.  “She loved it!  She’s still a bitch for making us redo it all at the last minute, but honestly this was even better than the original and she’s going to keep us and I got a raise and I love you so much!”

John laughed, returning to the couch and settling down with her in his lap.  “That’s amazing, love.  Congratulations.”

“Mhmm.”  She kissed him leisurely.  “And I know I’ve already got next week off but Harriet’s going to give it to me without using my time, so I am all. yours.”

“You weren’t already?”

“Oh, shut up.”  Rose was smiling too hard for him to take her seriously though.  “All we need to do is get through tonight and tomorrow, then we are off to Bermuda for a week.”

John hummed.  “Sand, sun…”

“Sex,” she corrected sternly.  “Play your cards right, and I’ll let you out of bed to eat.  Maybe.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They snogged, hands roaming and clutching long enough to be breathing hard when they finally pulled away.  “What do you say we head to the hotel early?”

John smiled and pointed at the bags waiting by the door.  “Say the word, my love.”

They were able to check in when they got there, and Rose threw herself onto the bed with a laugh, pleased when she bounced.  “We’ve got four hours before we’re supposed to meet, whatever shall we do?” she teased, giving him her best ‘come hither’ look.

John joined her on the bed, stretching out next to her with an amused smile.  “You were asleep in the taxi, love,” he said gently, putting his hand on her hip.  “I think a nap’s in order.”

She pouted, sticking out her lower lip.  “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He groaned, leaning forward to capture it between his own.  “Temptress. A little longer won’t kill us. Let’s get through the rehearsal dinner, yeah?  Then see what happens tonight.”

“Mhkay.”  Cradling the back of his head with her hand, she pulled him with her as she lay down.  “Kiss me to sleep?”

The last thing she remembered was his tongue in her mouth and hand on her bum.

They walked into the ballroom arm in arm, stopping just inside the doors as Rose gasped.  “This is beautiful!”  Nearly all the decorations were up except the flowers, which were due for delivery the following morning.

The wide aisle was marked with three sets of three-foot high pillars, waiting for vases of white roses.  Candles lined the space between the pillars; for safety reasons they were battery-operated candles, but Rose suspected the visual would be no less stunning because of that.  At the end of the aisle stood a dais with a frame, sheer white drapes drawn back and secured with ribbons.

They were still early despite being the last ones there, and her brother was the first to notice them.

“Rosie!” he shrieked from the front row, racing down the aisle to fling himself at her.  “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, silly, I’m in the wedding too,” she teased, swinging him up into her arms as they moved towards the rest of the group.  “You remember John.”

“Hi.”  Tony waved with a grin.

John smiled.  “How’s it going?”

“Good!  My Rosie’s here now.”  The boy nodded seriously, and Rose coughed to hide a laugh as John winked at her.

“I know exactly how you feel, mate.”

The rehearsal seemed to take forever, though Rose didn’t know if that was because of the wait for dinner or the expectation of what might happen with John when they were finally alone again.

They spent most of the practice sharing smiles, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.  Being the lowest ranking members of the wedding party worked in their favor; they walked first, stood at the end of their respective lines, and had zero responsibilities during the ceremony itself.  A few times Rose caught glares from her mother, but she ignored them in favor of making faces at John in a bid to get him to laugh.

When the rehearsal was finally over and it was time for the dinner, they held tightly to each other as they followed the group to the hotel’s restaurant.  They were in a private room, still a rather intimate group at fourteen around a single, long table.

Once they ordered came the toasts.  As the hosts of the dinner, Rose’s father stood and said a few kind words about Mickey, and by some miracle managed to keep her mother from speaking as well.

Mickey’s toast was funny and poignant, and Rose leaned into John’s side as she blotted away tears while they raised their glasses.

“All right?” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her closer.

She nodded, smiling up at him.  “I’m just so damn happy for him.  He deserves the world, and I think Martha’s the answer to that.”

“Agreed.”

The dinner went quickly, jokes and personal stories flying from every corner.  Rose spoke about when she and Mickey were children, while John shared stories from trips he and Martha had taken with Doctors Overseas, highlighting her bravery and calmness under pressure.

Due to the early morning the group split not long after dessert, though by mutual agreement John and Rose headed for the hotel bar instead.  Settling together at a table near the edge of the dance floor, they ordered wine.

“To the happy couple,” John toasted, holding up his glass.

“May they have a long and happy life together,” she added, clinking their glasses before sipping.  “I still find it a little hard to believe, Mickey getting married.  I think I half expected him to be a perennial bachelor.”

“That’s what Donna’s always said about me,” he snorted, leaning closer.  “Look at us.”

“Mhmm.”  Rose slid her chair a little closer, tangling her legs with his under the table.  “Not planning on permanent bachelor-hood, then?”

“I think I found an acceptable alternative.”  His palm was warm on her knee, thumb rubbing back and forth at the inner crease of the joint and making warmth pool low in her gut that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Is that so?” she murmured, and they met in the middle for a chaste kiss.  When they pulled apart a band was setting up on the small stage, a singer dressed in forties garb talking to the bartender.  “Looks like there’s about to be music.”

John merely took her hand, waiting until the singer introduced herself and the first strands of music began to play to say, “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.”  Rose let him pull her to her feet, stepping into his arms just as she recognized the song, smiling.  “At last,” she sang softly in his ear as they swayed, “my love has come along.”

“My lonely days are over,” he took it up, “and life is like a song.”

Rose let herself sink deeper in his arms until they were pressed tightly together, barely moving to the music.  The song felt like the sign she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for, but nothing had ever felt more right than this moment.

She loved this man with all her heart, trusted him without hesitation.  He’d long since proved himself to her, shown the true depth of character she’d seen hints of the first time they were together.  Her doubts were gone, having evaporated months ago, and any last stubborn spots were wiped clean by how he’d handled the previous week.  Never pressuring her in any way, never suggesting she do anything other than what she needed with the exception of getting more sleep, he took care of her, being there when she needed him and waiting patiently in the wings if she didn’t.

This was it; this was their moment.

At last.

As the final strains of the song faded out, she went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.  “John?”

“Yes love?”

“Take me to bed.”

[jays-study]

I DON’T EVEN LIKE HONEY THAT MUCH

a kacchako one shot

Summary: Uraraka has been a writer for four years now and is writing for a lifestyle magazine 'Tamami'. Every month the magazine publishes her romantic stories in the magazine and the readers absolutely love her work. Uraraka enjoys writing for 'Tamami' but sometimes it can be very stressful to have to write something decent every time, so to relieve some tension and stress she decides just write something really bad for a change. The subject of those awful stories happens to be about Bakugou Katsuki, her editor who she has a massive crush on.

Writers note: It has sure been a while since I last posted on AO3. Like I've said many times before I'm incredibly busy with college. On top of that, I'm a participant in two zines; the Kacchako Across the Universe Zine and the Kacchako Holiday Zine. And! I've also been working on a kacchako social media AU on Twitter as well. But I'm glad I found the time amidst all those things to write this. I thought of this during a shitty shift at work when "These Words" by Natasha Bedingfield came on the radio.

Word count: 6.549

AO3 link: (x)

Being able to word yourself properly is something Uraraka would never get good at. She had accepted that. In the four years that she had been writing she had written on different platforms, written different genres had switched her writing style countless amounts of times even after saying "I can definitely say that this is what makes me" so confidently. She had worked with different publishers, had a couple of projects that completely flopped and opportunities she wished she hadn't taken out of desperation.

The experience she gained in those four years of chasing a career that seemed beyond stupid to chase by many, it didn't make her good at wording herself properly.

But the experience she gained in those four years did make it a little bit easier.

Uraraka could word herself better than most.

Would she call herself a good writer? Not necessarily.

But she was good enough to get herself in a position where she was writing for a bestselling lifestyle magazine called ‘Tamami'. Women one and a half times or sometimes twice her age would buy the monthly issues and enjoy the overly romantic pieces she would write. If she would tell any of her high school friends that she would be able to pay the bills by writing old romance novel-like short stories for a magazine they would've been seriously worried about her sanity.

But yet here she was. Her sanity still intact, comfortable living with her cat in a studio apartment in the center of town.

Though this was not exactly what she aimed to do when she decided to be a writer, she sure had a good time doing what she did. Sitting cross-legged at her desk, in front of her laptop, with her hair in a bun that lasted for an embarrassing amount of days. Casually she was listening to soundtracks of popular romantic comedies and occasionally asked her cat for his opinion.

Yes, Uraraka could word herself better than most.

It was only natural that after two years of writing for ‘Tamami' she had a good indication of what her audience craved to read. It's the big dump of e-mails from her readers that made coming up with the next story as easy as pouring a cup of tea. Some e-mails gave a detailed review of her stories, a couple gave constructive feedback and a whole bunch of messages was blatantly sexually tinted. Uraraka had actually read full on sexual stories of her readers before. But even that helped her continue to deliver quality pieces every month.

However, that didn't mean that Uraraka could never get frustrated with her writing. She was determined that knowing exactly what she wanted to write could actually make things more difficult than it should be. Sometimes things she wrote weren't vivid enough. Uraraka wanted to smell the fields the couple she wrote about was standing in, she wanted to feel the heartbeat of the character sync with hers, she wanted to be able to get shivers as if a character had indeed whispered in her ear. Uraraka wanted to feel all of that from reading her piece.

And that, believe it or not, was hard to achieve every now and then.

Some sessions would leave her pouting at her screen for hours on end as she rewrote the same paragraph for countless amount of times. Uraraka would even let her cat walk over her keyboard, hoping that the pet would magically come up with something better than her.

When Uraraka would lose patience with herself she would count to twenty-five, close her document and would then open a blank one.

"…I opened my eyes and I saw the empty space beside me. Instead of rolling over, putting the blanket back over my head and setting myself on wasting the day away, I smiled. I smiled because I knew exactly that I couldn't afford to fall back asleep. The smell of waffles filled the bedroom and the sound of clashing dishes in the sink gave me the indication that they were ready.

Just as I sat up he came walking in the room. Abs glistening from the baking spray that managed to land on him whilst baking. A lazy half-smile of pride on his face and a tray full of golden brown waffles drenched in honey.

For a second it was hard to tell what the real meal was. I would've happily devoured either of them, to be frank. He sat down on the side of the bed and was quick to pick up the fork before I could even reach for it and dig in. The man wanted me to appreciate what he had been working so hard on the whole morning. With a soft smile, I told him that they came out great. As soon as I gave the sign of approval he filled up the fork and stuffed pieces of freshly baked waffle into my mouth. Honey started dripping down the side of my mouth and down onto my exposed breasts and white sheets. He started to take notice of the mess he was creating and stopped feeding me, put the tray with the half-devoured breakfast aside and touched the sticky corner of my mouth with his thumb as he cupped my face. I wanted to shy away from him but again he demanded my full attention. Turned my face back to him and leaned forwards. Between giggles in he would kiss me, our lips practically sticking together as he did. Eventually, his lips started to drift from mine to the rest of the flesh I was showing above the covers.

I knew exactly what this was leading to.

Sex, obviously.

We were both half naked, there was honey involved, which is apparently a sexy food.

Which someone still has to explain to me; how in the world can food actually be sexy?

Honestly, I wasn't the biggest fan of sex. I haven't even done it a lot of times but I have imagined multiple steamy scenarios in my head. When I had sex I was constantly doubting myself which led to a train of thought that ended nowhere. I would think about the taxes I still had to file or that I had to return those jeans that I recently bought in a sorry attempt to change my style.

But I could not not give this man all my attention even if I tried. I could describe how he was looking right now but no amount of fancy adjectives would do him justice. This man was looking like he was he carved out of marble. Smooth and toned just right. And that combined with the way he knew exactly how to move and said the right things at the right moment.

The man was like an actor in a porno where they hired writers that actually cared about the plot.

He was the type of guy that would tell you his favorite color and have a debate with you about issues in today's society whilst putting you to bed.

"You know what pisses me off; the debate about plastic straws. Until I see a turtle choke on plastic I will not stop using the damn things." He would say whilst kissing your neck.

He also seemed like the type of guy that would coax you through the whole act. And not the usual "you're doing so well sweetheart" that seemed to be a standard line for men. But kind of like a soccer coach. Maybe a bit stern, but you know he's doing it out of love.

Yeah.

Having sex with him was probably like speed dating your soccer coach that also happened to do high-quality porn.

Which is honestly the best you could wish for."  

When it all gets a bit too much it was nice to just write whatever you wanted, how awfully you wanted. So awful that Uraraka could look back at the work in progress for the magazine and think "it actually could be much worse".

So writing pieces like these did not only help Uraraka with the obstacles her perfectionism created but it was to get those particular thoughts out of her system. The man Uraraka wrote about and had so for so times, was, in fact, Bakugou Katsuki, her editor. An amazing and underrated editor who she happened to stumble upon in a coffee shop. They were sitting next to each other, working on their respective stories but Bakugou couldn't help but peek at her screen every now and then. Uraraka, who eventually got fed up with her since his silent judgment stopped her from writing asked him what he was thinking. And it was as if he was waiting for it because he sure didn't hold back. Uraraka was more impressed than offended in the end and continued to work with him for the rest of the afternoon.

Bakugou had been editing for Uraraka for a year now.

And over that year she had developed a huge crush on.

When Uraraka realized that she felt that way about her editor she instantly decided to never confess. It would bring too many problems that she really didn't fancy facing. Not only their friendship but their work relationship would be in ruins, to the point of no return.

"What do you think of plastic straws Waddles?" Uraraka pulled the Bengal cat off her desk and onto her lap. He cradled underneath against her neck and purred as she carefully stroked the cats tail.

"Interesting views," she laughed.

Uraraka kissed the top of the cats head and put him down on the floor.

Now that was out of her system she could try to make something of her draft. She was actually cutting it close to the deadline and knew Bakugou had recently got other work he needed to attend to. Uraraka was happy people had finally started to recognize Bakugou's talent and were now getting eager for him to edit their work. Though he said that her pieces are still his priority because that simply "came first", she didn't want to be too much of a bother.

And it had already proven to be difficult.

Quickly she saved the short story and opened back the monthly piece for ‘Tamami'. Uraraka put her earphones back in her ear and continued writing. She started to get pulled into the story again which made the words flow out of her easier. She managed to come up with a few twists that she wouldn't even have considered at first but now thought they could work. As Uraraka's fingers kept dancing over the keyboard, the soft smile she was wearing on her face got larger. The scenes she wanted to write out were clear as day to her and everything her characters felt, she felt too. Her chest felt heavy, like every emotion she described.

Uraraka kept on typing and typing and eventually thought of a proper way to end her story. It almost felt a little sad that there had to be an end. She had so much more in store for the two lovebirds in her story. But guidelines were guidelines so the story had to continue in her head instead.

The writer straightened her back and rubbed her eyes after writing the closing sentence. She had now only noticed that her ears had become immune to the sound of the song she had put on repeat for almost two hours on end. Between rereading her story she tried to find a song that fit her mood properly. Between interludes, she could hear strange noises in the distance. She chose to ignore them until she heard something clashing to the floor. She threw the earphones out of her ears and turned around in her chair. Uraraka then checked the time in the bottom right of her laptop screen and she instantly knew.

"Waddles! Waddles what the heck have you done?" She shouted toward the kitchen.

All she got back from him was a single ‘meow' which she sensed had an annoyed undertone.

See Uraraka's cat could be quite impatient. He knew exactly around what time he got fed every day and if there wasn't any food in the bowl at that time a day, he would get fed up. Fed up to the point that the pet would decide to make food for itself. He would go into the kitchen and make a ruckus trying to open cabinets and knock pots over in his quest to look for anything to eat.

"Can't believe it's half past eight already," Uraraka sighed as she pushed herself away from her desk to then immediately grab it and pull herself back towards the screen of her laptop. "It's half past eight!" she yelled as she had processed what she said.

"I should've e-mailed this to Bakugou by now, I-"

Another thing fell to the kitchen floor and Uraraka's neck snapped back to the doorway. She saw kibble spilling all out of a big bag coating the majority of the kitchen floor.

"Crap!"

Quickly Uraraka opened her Gmail and formed an e-mail. As fast as her hands could possibly move around she typed out a small message to Bakugou, apologizing for the tardiness and thanking him again for his time and effort. Hoovering above the chair she put the document in attachments and sent it.

Uraraka then strode into the kitchen to attend to her impatient pet. Swooped him off the floor as he was heavily enjoying the mess he created.

"It really doesn't hurt you to wait a little bit you know?" She picked the crumbs out his fur and couldn't help but laugh at the cat. "You feel no shame, do you? You just ate food off the floor like a barbarian."

Waddles didn't feel a single ounce of shame as he tried to escape from Uraraka's grip and fall back into his food. After a bit of struggling Uraraka put the cat down in the living room. Before Waddles could make his way back into the kitchen she grabbed a broom and started to sweep together all the kibble. With her leg, she gently pushed Waddles away who tried to get to the food.

"Don't worry, I'll whip something up for you that's not coated with dirt from the floor."

Uraraka slightly cringed as she threw away the cat food which was honestly not the most economical thing on the grocery list, thanks to the king's taste buds. As she prepared a proper dinner for Waddles she thought about what Bakugou could be thinking as he read her story. She wondered how he felt when he read her work. She hoped he felt everything she felt when writing it. Or to some degree at least. Uraraka thought it would be a whole achievement if she managed to get the lightest blush on his face.

Uraraka felt her face grow hot at the thought.

She continued to put the prepped ingredients together for the homemade cat food whilst touching her face every few minutes or so. After putting the meal in the cat bowl Uraraka warmed up pasta she postmated yesterday for herself. With a bottle of vitamin water under her arm, she brought the two meals to the dining table. She sat down and next to the leg of her chair she put down Waddle's bowl.

"See, isn't that much better, mister? Wasn't that worth the wait?" She asked as she spread out her own food, scratching Waddle's side with her food as she did. The cat softly purred against her touch and she giggled.

She went to talk to her cat about everything she wanted to get done before she went to sleep, about everything she wanted to do in the morning and all the other things that came to mind.

As Uraraka tried to gather the remaining sauce from her pasta onto her fork she heard the familiar ping of an incoming e-mail. She leaned in to check the now lit up screen and saw that it was an e-mail from Bakugou. Confused she pressed the home button on her phone and checked the time.

"That's…Fast," Uraraka said to Waddles. "Even for him, that's…"

She cleared the dining table and brought the dishes to the kitchen, still facing the laptop screen that was slowly dimming. Uraraka came back to find Waddles already at her desk, facing his snout upwards. With a confused frown still stuck on her face she sat down and lit up the dimming screen again.

Uraraka opened the e-mail and to her surprise, there was only a short message. She ruffled her bangs and squinted.

"Dadada…"Are you sure this is the work you want to hand in for this month?"" She read.

She read the sentence a couple of times and every time she found it harder to believe what she had read. Uraraka fell back against her chair in disbelief.

He had to be kidding.

What she handed in was one of the best works she had written. By a mile. She was so sure of it but Bakugou did not seem to believe so. Uraraka read the sentence out loud. Immediately a sense of frustration came to her.

What a kind of question…

There's no further elaboration as to why he had asked her that either. The nerve! Of course she was sure!

"Of course I'm sure," she typed out, frustration causing her fingers to twitch.

Without any sign off she replied to Bakugou's e-mail and then immediately logged off.

Uraraka wondered if she should ask him for a reason behind the kind of crude e-mail. But she wondered how she would be able to take whatever he had to say about her piece. She valued his opinion a lot and if he really did dislike the piece, as she had come to think because of his lack of elaboration, then she had no idea what that would do her writer's spirit. Uraraka had so many ideas for future stories and felt like she could write them all the next day if physically possible. That could be gone in a second.

She was used to Bakugou's brutal editing but rarely ever did he doubt the actual story. Said the bare minimum about it but in the few words he used, you could tell he enjoyed the small world for two Uraraka managed to create every month.

If Uraraka would've asked for Bakugou's honest opinion, she wouldn't have been able to change it anyway, even if she could. Bakugou was sending her piece straight to the publisher, instead of sending it back to her. There had been trouble there lately when it came to time management and deadlines Bakugou had informed her. Had then asked her to allow him to send her piece straight to the publicist for however long they were in trouble.

A week and a half later ‘Tamami' published their September edition. Days, after it came out Uraraka, went to look at the final product.

Uraraka walked to the nearest tobacco shop with a with a tight chest. She now had no clue how her story was going to be received by her readers. When thinking about the worst possible reactions Uraraka frowned and sank deeper into her coat. Before entering the bookstore she looked through the shop window. Right in front of her was this month's edition. Never before had they displayed the magazine. And never before did they advertise it by hanging up a poster on the window, saying that it was being sold here and mentioning specifically that it mentioned her work.

She looked into the shop and saw that in the magazine corner ‘Tamami' was being restocked. There were even several people grabbing it straight from the box and walking to the counter. Uraraka walked into the shop and met the shopworker that was in charge of restocking the magazines. She gently tapped on his shoulder and perked out the collar of her coat.

"Excuse me but, what's going on?"

The worker turned around and smiled brightly when he saw her face. He took her by the shoulder and squeezed tight. "Ochako, darling, there you are! Our little star of the neighborhood, you've really done it now!"

The people at the counter turned their heads towards them. Uraraka leaned out of their line of sight behind a shelf.

"What have I done exactly?" Uraraka awkwardly chuckled.

"You dear, have been responsible for almost half my revenue this week. People have been coming in here just to get a copy of the magazine, Ochako, they are in love with your work!" The shopworker went on to say.

Uraraka's eyes widened. "They are?"

"We are!" The two women at the counter were now approaching Uraraka waving their newly bought copies in their hand.

"Sorry to eavesdrop," a woman with a short bob and gleamy eyes said to her. "But we couldn't help but overhear the conversation."

"But are you really Uraraka Ochako? Are you really thé Uraraka Ochako?" The other woman, with a pink-dyed pixie cut and very shaky hands added.

Before Uraraka could ever get a word out, the shopworker proudly confirmed that she was in fact ‘thé Uraraka Ochako'. She could only nod at the two women. The two shared a look before exploding into chattering. It was hard to make any sense of what the two were saying but it was obvious that they were beyond excited. Uraraka had never really dealt with those kinds of conversations before. She usually would get reactions like this online, where she could take the time to process the kind words and find a proper way to reply to them, after a little bit of squealing of course. But now the only thing she could bring herself to say was;

"Thank you so much."

Luckily the women could laugh at her flustered response.

"This might sound silly but can I have your autograph?" The woman with the bob asked.

"Oh me too, me too!"

They started flipping through their magazines and Uraraka looked back at the shop worker. He just proudly smiled back at her and handed her a pen from the pocket on his shirt. Hesitantly, she turned to the open magazines and felt butterflies as she finally saw the printed version.

"You know Toshiko said at work? That she honestly wasn't able to look at honey the same way ever again.

Uraraka perked up.

"I know that she means. God, I can't wait to read that part again at my own pace now that I've finally got a hands on a copy of my own."

The writer slowly shook her head. "Honey? I didn't mention…"

Her eyes started scanning the pages of the magazine and her eyes started falling on certain words that caused her chest to become even tighter than before she walked into the store.

"C-can I…Can I hold that for a second?" She pointed at one of the copies.

The woman with the pixie cut handed her copy and Uraraka immediately buried her face between the pages.

"A lazy half-smile of pride on his face…"

"Honey now dripping down the side of my mouth…''

Uraraka closed the magazine. "Alright, this is…That's…"

Her eyes started closing and before she could grab onto something she fell on her knees and slide face first across the store's carpet.

The first thing Uraraka felt when she came to was the slight carpet burn on her face. With her eyes, half closed she slowly put her hand on her left cheek. As she stroked her face, she tried to get back on her feet. The slightest movement of her leg sent people yelling and grabbing her arms.

She fully opened her eyes and saw a handful of worried faces looming over her.

"What in the world…" Uraraka mumbled. She looked around herself and saw the magazine laying on the ground.

"…That's wonderful," she sighed as she could already feel herself getting lightheaded again. Uraraka held onto a shelf and tried to keep herself on her feet. Immediately people came to her assistance to help her up and looked at her with worried eyes as she kept staring at the magazine.

"…I…I need to go," Uraraka stammered. Before anyone could hold her back she walked out of the tobacco shop.

Alright, this was happening.

This was really happening.

Her incredibly sexually tinted fantasy story about her editor had been published in ‘Tamami'. People have read her incredibly sexually tinted fantasy story about her editor. People seemed to love her incredibly sexually tinted fantasy story about her editor.

On her phone, she searched for other bookstores in town and pinned her route to the closest one. Took the subway and ended up in an unfamiliar part of town. After a bit of stumbling around she reached the bookstore and saw the same thing as in her neighborhood's tobacco shop; they were restocking the magazine. Uraraka rushed to the clerk and stuck her head under her nose.

"Sorry, how fast have these been selling out?" The writer asked.

"Too fast if you ask me! This is the third time I had to restock them this week. I haven't even been able to get my own copy yet, and I work here!" The clerk grumbled as she kept putting the magazines on the shelf.

"Do you have the exact number of sales? I'm Uraraka Ochako, one of the writers of the magazine and I would just like to-"

The girl jerked her head back. "Wait, you're Uraraka Ochako?!"  

Again, heads turned at the sound of her name but now costumers came flying to the source straight away. All with their copies of ‘Tamami' tightly clutched to their chest, asking for confirmation if she was, in fact, the writer everyone was currently talking about. Uraraka could barely make herself understandable above the noise but she managed to confirm that it was her.

"It's not your usual style but I absolutely loved it nonetheless!"

"Can you please write more stories like this? Or just a whole book perhaps?"

"This was so genuine! I could relate to the main character so well!"

The writer got showered with compliments and though as embarrassing as this whole thing was, it did her good to hear that something she didn't even consider anything decent was being received so well. Uraraka thanked the readers and signed a few copies here and there. After that, she left the bookstore and traveled to a few others where things kept repeating themselves.

The magazine would be selling better than ever before, people would come up to her and gush about this month's story and she would sign a few copies here and there.

Uraraka spent the whole day walking around town from bookstore to bookstore in complete awe, feeling better and better about circumstances.

Her readers have actually managed to make the best out of a bad situation.

When she got back to her apartment she was eager to jump behind her laptop to finally check the e-mails from readers she had been stacking up in the past days. On her way from the front door to her desk, she got stopped by Waddles, walking right in front of her feet. Not being able to maneuver past him, she groaned and picked him up.

"This is one of the few times I stayed out the house for so long, you should at least be a little proud of me, right?" Uraraka moaned.

Owner and pet kept glaring at each other until Uraraka was the first one to lose composure. She tickled the cat under his chin and watched his face turn softer.

"But you just need the constant attention, don't you?" She softly spoke.

Uraraka carried Waddles in her arms to her desk and put him next to her laptop. She put away her coat and put her hair down before sitting down and letting Waddles use her lap as a pillow. She opened her mailbox and saw it had been completely bombarded with e-mails. This was the first time that she had to click the next button in her mailbox.

There were a lot of positive reactions. An occasional reader being sad that she veered away from her usual style but most people were excited about it. ‘Excited' could be taken in multiple ways. Uraraka had never received so many horny e-mails before. And it was somewhat to be expected but twenty-three emails that were not, no, definitely not safe for work? That was definitely a record broken.

Most of the horny e-mails were a good laugh nonetheless, she had woken up Waddles a few times because of them.

Slowly the writer cleared her mailbox and reached the most recent ones. When she saw a particular e-mail address, she felt her heart skip a beat. Uraraka would be lying if she said she hadn't forgotten about them for a second. A reader who had been reading her work ever since her work just started to get published in ‘Tamami'. Their e-mails were always almost like essays, very detailed reviews of the story and how much they enjoyed it. They were as honest as they could be with her and had honestly made her reflect on her writing almost as much as Bakugou did.

It was always exciting to see what they had to say.

""…I have to say I was surprised when I read this month's story. I-"…Waddles please, you have enough other toys to plays with," Uraraka scolded the cat.

But the cat remained intrigued by the light coming from her phone screen. She turned the screen around and continued reading the e-mail. Uraraka got closer to the screen as she kept reading it and felt herself smiling brightly at all the kind words.

"…I've noticed that you never write in first person. I have read the story a couple of times now and I've got the feeling that you were heavily inspired by someone close to you. Heavily inspired is a term I use lightly here."

Out of anyone they would have been the first one to clock, wouldn't they?

Uraraka rarely responded to fan mail but she felt a little caught by the anonymous critic. Curious to what made them exactly come to the conclusion she opened a new message to reply.

"What gave it away?"

Uraraka sent the message and bit the tip of her thumb. In the corner of her eye, she noticed light emanating from her phone screen again. She looked around, saw that Waddles had found another way to entertain himself and then grabbed her phone.

"Text messages from…Bakugou?"

Katsuki Bakugou, 16:24 PM: Are you around?

Katsuki Bakugou, 18:15 PM: Never mind.

Uraraka scratched her head.

Ochako Uraraka, 18:18 PM: Why? What's up?"

Only moments later a call from Bakugou came in. Uraraka jumped and threw her phone in the air. Just about managed to catch it and save herself from pressing decline.

"H-Hello?"

"Uraraka…Did I not call at the right time?" Bakugou asked.

Uraraka covered the mic of her phone with her hand and took a deep breath. It was always something else to speak with Bakugou on the phone but now considering this had been their first conversation since her story got published especially.

Once she got her breathing steady she put the phone back to her ear. "No, it's fine, it's fine. Why did you call?"

"It's about the celebratory dinner? Don't tell me you forgot to check your private e-mail account again."

"What? No! Of course not!" Uraraka sputtered as she opened her private e-mail account and saw the e-mail from the magazine's headquarters, about how they were hosting yet another celebratory dinner. This time for Uraraka.

It was an incredibly sweet gesture but, that sort of thing just wasn't for her. She hadn't been to a single dinner where she didn't feel stupidly out of place. They always ate at places that were way too fancy for their own good. Where everything was in French but somehow French fries didn't exist on the menu. Where you would have a napkin on your nap and no one would bother to explain what it was exactly for. Places where she could easily embarrass herself and often did.

It wasn't exactly Bakugou's cup of tea either. They had gradually gravitated from sitting across from each other to next to each other and started to complain about everything they could possibly complain about during every dinner. Have even started dreading the dinners before they were invited.

"I can't even pronounce the name of this restaurant…" Uraraka mumbled.

She continued to scan through the e-mail until her eyes fell on the time.

"I have to be there in an hour, are you kidding me?! I'm not even remotely ready!"

"So you did forget," Bakugou scoffed.

Uraraka could hear the cheekiness in his voice but was too busy panicking to even think of sassing him. She stood up and walked to her bedroom.

"I really have to go, there's a lot of stuff I need to do. Oh man, I haven't even thought of how I'm going to get there. That place is probably on the other side of town as well."

"I can come and pick you up," Bakugou offered.

Through the sound of clashing clothing hangers, Uraraka could hear Bakugou typing in the background. The guy had most likely been editing all day and was even looking less forward to the whole happening than usual. She didn't exactly want to be that much more of a nuisance by making him play taxi.

"Thank you but you don't have to, really," Uraraka said as she smelled a dress she found at the bottom of her closet.

"Oh shut it. You don't want to be late to your own fucking dinner right? I'll be at your apartment in thirty, be ready."

Before Uraraka could put up any resistance Bakugou had hung up on her. Distraught she looked at her phone and sighed. She didn't have any time to call him back and argue with him. She still had to shower, make herself somewhat presentable and mentally prepare herself for all the questions she had to answer about the story whilst Bakugou was sitting next to her.

Uraraka decided that the dress she sniffed was good enough. It didn't smell too bad and she believed none of her coworkers had seen her in it before. In record time she jumped in and out of the shower and messed around with make-up as much as her skillset allowed her.

With wobbly knees, Uraraka slowly walked in her heels to her mirror. She turned around and then nodded at herself, coming to the conclusion that was as good as it was going to get. Waddles had cared to join her in front of the mirror, but only to come and beg for a meal.

She tried to strut into towards the kitchen but stopped in front of her desk.

Would the anonymous critic have replied?

She moved the mouse, the screen lit up and they had indeed replied.

"You can't make up those emotions and thoughts. Not even the best of writers can."

Uraraka swallowed before opening another e-mail to reply.

"I can't deny that no. The story was something very personal yes, that most likely shouldn't have seen the light of day. So far, you're the only one that's on to me. It's actually rather embarrassing so can you please do me a favor and keep this a secret between us? Can you promise?"

Send.

That was the right thing to do, right? Fighting the accusations could have brought up discourse. And right when her career was thriving, that was the last thing she wanted. Things could easily spin out of control and that could make her the laughing stock of ‘Tamami' in no time.

It was in her best interest to keep this long-time fan a friend.

As she made dinner for Waddles she kept listening for the sound of a notification, but it didn't come. After she put down the cat's bowl full of homemade cat food in the kitchen, she shuffled to her laptop to double check.

There was really no reply from them.

"Oh God, I'm scre-,'"  A loud buzzer cut Uraraka off.

Immediately Uraraka jolted and rushed to the door.

That had to be Bakugou.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and straightened her stance before opening the door.

"You didn't have to come u-"

"I promise."

Uraraka blinked at the guy standing in the hallway. In response, she laughed and shook her head.

"You what?"

Bakugou pushed past her into her apartment and went to lean against the wall opposite her.

"I said I promise. I can promise to keep it a secret between us," he elaborated.

A moment of silence past between them, which was eventually broken by hysterical laughter from Uraraka.

This was something she couldn't comprehend. This was some sort of joke her brain just couldn't process. As she kept laughing she pointed back at her laptop.

"So you're telling me that…that you're…" Uraraka hiccupped.

She couldn't even finish her sentence without bursting into laughter again. Fell against the wall opposite Bakugou as she grabbed her stomach that was starting to ache.

Through her tears, she saw Bakugou cocking his brow. Gradually the writer collected herself and stopped laughing. She took a good look at Bakugou and then her face went blank.

"Wait, are you serious?

Bakugou gestured at his face. "I'm not exactly laughing my ass off am I?"

"Oh…Now if you could excuse me…"

Uraraka felt herself getting weak at the knees and prepared herself for another fall. As her eyes closed an arm went around her waist and a tug at her wrist. The sudden touch caused her eyes to shoot back open.

"Fucking hell, you're something else," Bakugou groaned.

He put her right back up, kept his arm around her waist. Uraraka's eyes darted from his arm to his face which was suddenly incredibly close to hers.

"You know I don't even like honey that much," he complained.

"Really?" Uraraka said genuinely baffled, she figured anyone would like honey on their waffles after all.

"But would do you like then?" She asked.

"Take a guess," he made his voice low, eyes flicking from her eyes to her mouth.

As he leaned in Uraraka held her breath.

"Oh God, this is happening," she murmured.

Bakugou opened his eyes and glared at her.

"Sorry."

Uraraka closed her eyes and through her lashes, she saw Bakugou smile before putting his lips on hers. Their mouths started to part and her breath hitched.

She had written about Bakugou kissing her countless amount of times. But none of that compared to the way he was kissing her there and then. She didn't expect it to live up to her fantasy, no, to be even better than her fantasy.

Uraraka's arms curled around his neck and she smiled against his lips. Steadily she slowed down the pace of the kiss and pulled away from his touch.

"But seriously, what do you like?"

"Syrup over honey, any fucking day."

[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 55

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist

Some time passes at The Sanctuary. After Negan and Chuck finally get back home, they get back to their normal lives. Though there are a few changes.

Negan orders extra guards to stay upstairs on the fifth floor. In addition to Sam and José, Arat and Laura are added to the rotation. José and Sam keep their same post on the stairwell while Arat and Laura cover the freight elevator on the other end of the hall, making it so there are always two guards on the floor at all times. That is, when Chuck is upstairs.

When Chuck is downstairs, the woman on duty follows her like a bodyguard. It annoys Chuck at first, but she understands why Negan asked them to do it. And Laura and Arat do their best to be unobtrusive, which Chuck appreciates. They stay just far enough away that Chuck has her space, but close enough that they could step in if need be.

Even though Negan is true to his word and doesn’t leave the gates, he still has to do his job around The Sanctuary everyday, which leaves Chuck completely alone upstairs. For the first time in her life, she actually doesn’t enjoy being by herself so much. She figures it probably has something to do with being locked up in that room at Eldritch’s compound, completely alone for most of the day. Or maybe it’s just that she’s changing to be more open to people. For the first few days back, she would walk the hall outside her and Negan’s apartment. She’d start at one end and talk to either José or Sam, then walk to the other end and talk to Laura or Arat, whoever was on duty. Then she’d turn around and do it all over again.

But that is still too claustrophobic. So instead, she starts to walk around The Sanctuary. For hours she would just walk and observe everyone around her. People would talk to her pleasantly, but they’d also fuss about her. Asking her if she’s okay, if she needs to eat or needs water, coming up to her with chairs so she can “rest”. She knows they mean well, but it’s still kind of annoying.

She visits with the former wives in all their different rooms, too. Sherry has taken to working in the kitchen full-time and living with Dwight. And Chuck admits that Sherry looks happier with him. Kayla and her boyfriend Felix have gotten more serious, so she decides to permanently move in with him. Though she still makes routine visits to Chuck to check up on her and the baby when she’s not on shift in the infirmary or checking on Amber, who is nearing the end of her pregnancy. Frankie and Tonya get their own room on the third floor, their relationship together more than official now. Tonya spends her days at her chair in the marketplace giving haircuts and Frankie has her massage table set up nearby. She tells Chuck that business is good; there are always people willing to spend their points to feel a little better.

Chuck decides that she needs something to actually do with her time, so she starts teaching the kids music again. When they seem so genuinely happy to have her back, Chuck swears that her heart swells. She enjoys teaching the children so much that she starts giving lessons in the afternoon to anyone that wants it, no matter the age. Some people that come in have absolutely no music experience, but some actually do. Class time is divided up into teaching those that need it and jamming out with those that can play.

That, too, fills Chuck’s heart with joy. They’re all in a place now where those little things, like music and art and fun , can come back. People aren’t just worried where the next meal is coming from. Or whether or not they’ll get attacked during the night. People are actually living.

Everyone is also enjoying the cemented alliance between the groups and the ease of passage between them. Negan and Rick have doubled down on fencing and barriers at the borders of the entire area, keeping the biters out. It’s not exactly free of the dead, but Negan’s domain is much safer than it once was.

The “dead zones”, as Negan calls them, are serving their purpose. The noise making devices that Eugene engineered are doing their job of drawing the dead into places that they can’t get out of, thus making the surrounding areas clear without any extra effort from Negan’s or Rick’s men. And once the temperature dips further, thus freezing the biters, all of them will be taken care of.

Because there are daily journeys between the groups, there is a freer exchange of goods and services. Alexandria has stopped needing support from The Sanctuary, so their relationship is based more on equal trade, just like everyone else. If someone at The Sanctuary needs metal goods, they trade for that with the blacksmith at Hilltop. If someone at Hilltop needs new clothes, the seamstress at Alexandria will oblige. And they all have unofficial areas that they scavenge from so there are always new goods to trade. Alexandria gets the north, Hilltop gets the west, and The Sanctuary gets the south and east.

Though Hilltop is still “owned” by Negan, it’s mostly autonomous. Negan trusts Jesus to  run the place well, and he has been. He gives Negan updates everyday and Negan gives his advice, but that’s pretty much the end of his involvement there. Nevertheless, Negan takes credit for their success under him, and no one is inclined to question him.

Though Chuck has been spending time downstairs, she does enjoy the occasional quiet day in her room with her cats lounging all over the place. Negan moved the animals back upstairs pretty much immediately, though he stipulated that they were not allowed in the nursery. Ever. Chuck conceded as long as she could cuddle with them in their bed. And despite what Negan says about the “furry bastards”, he still lets Moe curl up on his lap every time he sits in his office looking at the inventory sheets.

One day, while Chuck is walking around the marketplace, she sees a large whiteboard and gets an idea. After asking Arat nicely to carry it upstairs and help her put it up on the wall in the nursery, Chuck gets to work on it. Just as she’s finishes up, she hears Negan come home.

“Come in here, Negan,” she shouts. “I want to show you something.”

Negan steps into the room and gives her a kiss before turning to Chuck’s creation on the wall. She has turned the large whiteboard into a calendar, starting with the month of November (the current month) and ending in April with important days like Thanksgiving, winter solstice, Christmas, New Years, Easter, and the first day or spring all highlighted. But the most important day is more prominent than all the rest. April 2.

“You got my fuckin’ birthday wrong,” Negan says casually.

“What?” Chuck scrunches up her face in confusion. “I don’t have your birthday on here at all. I don’t actually know your birthday, I guess.”

“Then what’s that?” He points to the extra special date.

Chuck smiles wide and rests her hands on her belly. “That’s the due date.”

“Oh, shit!” Negan places his hand on Chuck’s belly, too and turns back to the calendar. “April second, huh?” He chuckles happily.

“When’s your birthday?” Chuck asks, realizing that she probably should’ve already known it.

“April seventh ,” he responds with a smirk. “We’ll be celebrating two fuckin’ birthdays in one week.”

“The baby might not come on that day exactly. She’ll decide when she’s ready.”

“Well, we’re gonna have a big fuckin’ party, regardless. Might be a dual birthday party.” He moves to stand behind Chuck and wraps his arms around her belly.

“So, how old are you gonna be anyway? Fifty......eight?” Chuck teases.

“The fuck you talking about, little girl? I’m not fuckin’ fifty eight!”

Chuck can’t help but laugh hard at her joke.

“I’ll be forty seven, for your fuckin’ information,” Negan fakes offense, causing Chuck to giggle more. “You know, you shouldn’t be laughing, Chuck. You’re the one fucking my old ass.”

They both pause then start to laugh together as Negan’s words sink in.

“Get your mind outta the fuckin’ gutter, perv,” Negan jokes. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He pauses. “Though I’m not opposed to the idea,” he tacks on with a smirk.

Chuck turns around in his arms and smacks his chest. “Negan!” she chides, but she’s still laughing.

He chuckles then shrugs his shoulders innocently. “What? You know, I’m pretty sure we got some strapons in storage you could use.”

“Why on earth would you have strapons in storage?”

“The guys ran across an untouched sex shop and brought the whole fuckin’ thing back a while ago.”

“Really?” Chuck asks a little incredulously.

“Yeah. That shit’s just been sitting there this whole time. But it did come in fuckin’ handy, I guess.”

Chuck scrunches up her face trying to think of how stuff from a sex store would be handy in any other way but the obvious one.

Negan chuckles at her, apparently picking up on her confusion. “When we destroyed Eldritch’s shit, I had the guys suit up in latex sex suits so they could gut up and get through the fuckin’ biters without getting sick.”

Negan had never told Chuck the details about the assault on Eldritch’s compound and she never really asked. The details aren’t important. The only thing that Chuck cares about is the fact that Eldritch isn’t a threat anymore.

“Latex sex suits?” Chuck asks in confusion. She’s never heard of such a thing.

Negan laughs again. “Yeah. Suits made of fuckin’ latex so it covers all your skin.”

Chuck tries to picture it. “How is that sexy? One of the best parts of sex is feeling your skin on mine. I don’t think I could do it all covered up. With latex, no less.”

Negan just smiles at her for a moment.

“What?” she asks.

“You’re just so goddamn cute.” Negan leans in to kiss her.

Chuck can tell by Negan’s movements that he’s going to want more, but she has something else she wants to talk to him about. “Wait.” She pushes him away slightly. “Before we get too far, I want to talk to you about something.”

Negan groans.

“It’s not bad.”

“It means we’re not fucking right now, so, yeah, it’s bad.”

Chuck gives Negan an unimpressed look, which makes him let out a sigh. He moves to the doorway and holds his arm out, gesturing for Chuck to cross the threshold back into their bedroom. She walks forward and sits on the edge of the bed. Negan follows suit, sitting beside her.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Negan asks.

Chuck takes a deep breath and lets it out, nervous about what she’s going to talk about. “I love the nursery,” she starts.

“Okay...?” Negan responds. “Is that it? Can we fuck now?”

“Negan,” she bites back.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“I just wanted to say... I love that you got all those pictures of my family for our daughter to see. Because she’ll never get the chance to meet her grandparents, but she can still know their faces. She’ll still know my family. Where she came from.”

“Yeah,” he replies softly. But there is some confusion behind it.

Chuck continues tentatively. “But she didn’t just come from me. She comes from you, too. A-And I know you have those pictures and things in your closet. I’d like to frame some of them and put them-“

“I don’t have any pictures of my family, Chuck. My father was a fucking monster and... I don’t have any pictures of my mom.”

“Lucille was your family. And Simon, too.”

Negan just stares back at Chuck. “Why would you-“ He stops and rakes his hand through his hair.

“Lucille was a big part of your life. I don’t want to hide that from our daughter.”

“Do you realize-“ He huffs out a breath. “You want our kid to know I was a piece of shit husband?”

Chuck doesn’t know how to respond to that. “I just want her to know your past. My past. Our past. She’s not gonna live the kind of life we had. She’s not gonna have high school dances and field trips. Go to college. It’ll be completely foreign to her. But I want her to know about it. And, no , I don’t particularly want to tell her about your... indiscretions. But I don’t want to hide your whole life either.”

Negan stands and starts to pace slowly without saying anything.

“There has to be good memories in that box, too,” Chuck says quietly. “Memories you’d want to share with her.”

Negan turns back to Chuck, but again, he doesn’t say anything. He slowly moves over to the closet and finds his memento box. He sits back down beside Chuck with the box in his lap.

“I really don’t know why I even took this shit. It was... right after me and Simon got this place cleaned up. Before we had any other fuckin’ people here. I decided to go back to my house by my-fuckin’-self.” He starts to root through the box. “The place was fuckin’ trashed. Nothing of use was left. Pantry was empty. My tools, gone. My fuckin’ Impala, gone. Handgun I kept in the closet...” He shakes his head. “I shoved all my personal shit everyone left behind in a bag. I just... I don’t fuckin’ know. I didn’t need this shit. But I had found a fuckin’ place to live and I just...”

“You wanted part of your old life with you,” Chuck answers for him.

Negan nods slightly. “When I was rooting around the fuckin’ closet, I found my old  baseball bat. Lucille bought it for me when I first got the job at the school.” He sighs. “She said I was gonna ‘Knock it outta the park’.” He chuckles sadly.

“That’s ...Lucille?” Chuck questions softly.

Negan nods. “Barbed wire came a little later. When more people came. The name came later, too. I don’t fuckin know why I did that. It’s fucking insane, isn’t it?”

“No.” Chuck smooths her hand over the back of Negan’s head. “You were hurting. Processing everything.”

Negan finds a picture of him and Simon. They’re teenagers, probably fourteen or fifteen, and it looks like they’re just hanging out in the woods. But they’re laughing.

Negan looks at the picture and starts to talk. “Simon’s family lived next door to the first foster family I stayed with after my mom died. Me and him were fast fuckin’ friends. Never experienced anything like it before or since. We just got each other immediately. Shit, I spent more time at Simon’s house than where I was supposed to be. I guess that’s why my foster family got rid of me. Said I wasn’t ‘bonding’.” He shrugs. “I moved across town after that. But me and Simon still fuckin’ hung out. Got ourselves into trouble more than once.” He chuckles.

“I bet you got into trouble,” Chuck comments with a giggle.

Negan’s face turns more somber. “Simon was really the only person I fuckin’ cared about after my mom died. Before Lucille, anyway. I lived with six different families before I turned eighteen.” He chuckles humorlessly. “But the whole fuckin’ sob story of my life got me some kickass grants and scholarships. That’s pretty much the only reason I even went to fuckin’ college.”

Chuck feels a sadness with what Negan has said. He never had a real family in his life. That fact is probably why having a child is so important to him. He wants to make the family he never had.

Negan pulls out his college diploma. “Look at this shit.” He opens it up so she can see. “What a fuckin’ waste.”

“It wasn’t a waste. You taught a ton of kids for a long time because of that. It meant something.” She takes it from him and sets it down beside her. “We’re putting it up in the office.”

“We are?”

“Yes.”

Negan finds a picture of him standing in some sort of museum and shows Chuck. “Baseball Hall of Fame. Me and Lucille took a trip to New York for our ten year anniversary. She wanted to see Wicked.” He shrugs a shoulder. “It actually wasn’t too fuckin’ bad.”

“So you made her go to the baseball museum because she made you go to a play?”

“Not at all. Lucille fuckin’ loved baseball. Her dad was a goddamn nut about it. Took her to games all the time when she was a kid. Baseball was the only thing me and him could fuckin’ talk about. He hated my goddamn guts, otherwise. But when we talked baseball... It was like he forgot he hated me so much. He even showed me his baseballs signed by the fuckin’ greats. Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Cy Young, Willie Mays,” he rattles off.

Chuck listens intently, but can’t manage to mirror Negan’s enthusiasm about the men he’s talking about. Especially because she doesn’t know who they are. “I recognize some of those names...” She grimaces a little at her lie. “One of those names.”

“What?!” Negan responds, shocked at her lack of baseball knowledge.

Chuck shrugs. “You know I’m not into sports.”

“You should still know the fuckin’ greats!”

Chuck giggles. “You’ll have to teach me.”

After going through some other pictures and keepsakes, he finally pulls out his wedding picture, though he doesn’t really look at it.

“It’s okay, Negan,” Chuck whispers as she rubs his back. “I know this isn’t easy.”

Negan takes a deep breath and looks at the picture, staring at it in silence for a few minutes. “I’m glad you made me fuckin’ do this,” he says quietly and touches Lucille’s face in the picture.

Chuck is shocked. She expected him to fight her on this. And definitely not be happy about it. “Really?”

“Yeah. I never wanted to think about... Lucille... because all I could see was her in her hospital bed. Or the look on her face when I’d come home from fucking some other girl. But you were fuckin’ right. There are good memories here.” He lets out a sigh. “I just gotta let myself remember them.”

After a moment, he pulls out a picture that Chuck recognizes. It’s the picture her mother took of her and Negan at her graduation.

“This,” she takes the picture from his hand, “This was in my house, wasn’t it?”

Negan nods. “I didn’t want to put it up. Thought maybe it made me look like a fuckin’ pedo.”

Chuck laughs. “It’s an innocent picture!” She looks at it closely. “It’s pretty much the only picture of me I ever liked. I took a copy of it with me to college. And then to my apartment in the city.”

Chuck studies the picture then looks back up to Negan. The smile on her face falls when she sees that his own face looks sad.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I should’ve kept in touch with you.”

She casts her gaze downward. “It’s okay, Negan. I didn’t expect you-“

“You kept this photo with you? At college? After?”

“Yeah,” she answers, a little confused at why Negan is questioning it.

“Did you have any fuckin’ friends after high school?”

Chuck shrugs, not wanting to admit that she really didn’t.

Negan lets out a huff and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t’ve held onto that damn picture if you had anyone else.”

“I was fine, Negan. I did four years of college in three, so... I was busy. I didn’t need friends.”

“Goddamnit, Chuck,” he mutters. “I should’ve kept in fuckin’ touch.”

“What would we have done together? I was a teenager and you were... married ! With a job and a house. I couldn’t exactly relate. And would you have gone to frat parties with me?”

“We could’ve-“ he scratches his cheek. “I could’ve taken you to goddamn baseball games. Made sure you were doing alright. Made sure you were happy. I shouldn’t have just dropped you.”

“Well, why didn’t you keep in touch?”

Negan lets out a heavy breath and starts to answer Chuck’s question.

  ——— Negan’s POV ———

— Seven years ago —

“You all ready, honey?” Lucille says to me as I walk toward our front door. She’s got her fuckin’ coffee cup in her hand, just about ready to leave herself. She’s got a house to show in an hour.

“Yeah,” I kiss her on the cheek when she walks to me. “I should be back for dinner. At least I fuckin’ hope I will. If this thing goes long, I might just fuckin’ kill myself.”

She laughs at me. “Come on! This is a good thing.”

I guess she’s fuckin’ right. I got invited to this goddamn “Sports and Education” conference because my baseball team went pretty fuckin’ far last year. Almost won the division. And there’s gonna be coaches and educators from all over the state there.

But I hate shit like that. It’s just guys fuckin’ jerking themselves off to the crowd and saying how fuckin’ amazing they are. I don’t have to talk about winning to show that I’m fuckin’ successful. I fuckin’ win and that’s that.

However... the school kinda lost their shit over it, thinking that my appearance at this stupid ass conference will translate into more money for the school. So I was gently persuaded to attend. And by “gently persuaded”, I mean Principal Addams told me that she’d personally kick my ass if I fucked this up. And she probably would. She’s a fuckin’ hard ass.

That means I gotta fuckin’ schmooze the right people. Which I fuckin’ hate. But whatever. I gotta do it.

And I may have a little bit of an ulterior motive in wanting to go there.

This conference is at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. My own alma mater. And it just so happens to be the college that my former fuckin’ favorite student attends.

Chuck.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I don’t fuckin’ know why. The last time I fuckin’ saw her was months ago right after she graduated. But recently, she’s been on my mind for some reason. And I can’t really do much about it without looking really fuckin’ weird. I can’r exactly fuckin’ call her up outta the blue. “ Hey, barely legal former student. It’s me, the guy that fuckin’ taught you. Yeah, I’m still twenty years older than you and really have no business talking to you anymore. How’s things? ”

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.

I’ve seen her mom a few times out and about and I always casually ask how Chuck is. She says she’s good, so that’s all I really know. That should be enough for me to know. I mean, I’ve seen former students before. I’ve asked about them, what they’re doing. And, sure, I wanna know they’re doing good. In a friendly sorta mentor kinda fuckin’ way.

But Chuck is different. And it’s really fuckin’ confusing for me.

This is a fuckin’ recent thing, too. And I don’t know why exactly shit changed. Chuck was my student. She was my student . And that was it. It always was. But now when I think about her... it’s just... confusing .

I don’t want to fuck her. I mean, it’s not like I would hate to fuck her. But... Shit, I shouldn’t even think about it. She’s got that fuckin’ baby face! But that body of hers...

Goddamn, only a fuckin’ perv would think that way.

No, it’s not like that! ...Is it?

No. It’s not like I think about burying my dick in her like I do with most women. Yeah, I know, that’s fuckin’ sexist. But I can’t help it. I love fucking women. And women love fucking me. But eighteen is way too fuckin’ young. Shit, I haven’t fucked an eighteen year old since I was... twenty two, probably. And I sure as hell ain’t twenty two now. I’m pushing fuckin’ forty!

It’s ...different with Chuck, anyway. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s... like I said, confusing .

I’m just hoping seeing Chuck again will answer some fuckin’ questions. If I immediately wanna fuck her brains out, then I guess I’m turning into a perv in my old age. That’s not ideal, but I guess I can fuckin’ deal with it. Not that I’d try to fuck her, really. I mean... I don’t know. It just seems wrong. If I see her and it’s just the same protective, teacher/student shit, then that’s that. I’ve just been fuckin’ thinking about her because I’m worried and haven’t seen her in a while. Then I can stop freaking the fuck out about it.

It’s been fuckin’ weird these last few weeks. I don’t wanna tell anyone about it. Everyone at school is completely fuckin’ out. If I say I’ve been thinking about a female student, even a former one, shit would get investigated. And I’m a little too ashamed to tell Simon. He’s got a niece Chuck’s age; I don’t want him thinking I go for girls that young.

Lucille... I can’t fuckin’ tell Lucille. How the fuck could I? “ Oh yeah, Lucille, I’ve been constantly thinking about some girl. Wanna discuss it? ” Yeah, no. She hasn’t even talked about Chuck since... probably the last time we fuckin’ saw her. Like, not at all. I don’t know if maybe she knows...? Nah. She can’t. I haven’t fuckin’ talked about Chuck either, so why would Lucille think something’s up?

The drive to Charlottesville takes about two hours, but it feels like fuckin’ forever. I just keep thinking about what I’m gonna do when I get there. Should I look Chuck up? That seems weird. Should I just walk around campus and try to run the fuck into her? Like it was an accident?

I let out a huff and turn the radio up in my truck to try to drown out the thoughts. “I’m fuckin’ horrible,” I mutter to myself.

The conference... confers , I guess. And I schmooze all the right people, so I don’t have to worry about getting my ass kicked tomorrow by a sixty year old woman when I go back to work. The whole thing was enough to distract me, but now that it’s over, I’m back to kinda freaking the fuck out.

I walk around campus aimlessly, sorta hoping that I’ll come across Chuck randomly. That seems like the most fuckin’ organic way to... I don’t know, get this shit started. But I don’t run into her. I’m just about ready to throw in the towel and find a student directory when I see her walking a ways away.

She looks exactly the fuckin’ same. I mean, I guess it’s only been less than a year that I saw her last. That red hair of hers put up in those two buns she always wore. She’s dressed in tight jeans and a baggy hoodie with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She must be done for the fuckin’ day because it looks like she’s headed back to where the dorms are. I start to walk quickly to catch up with her, but still trying to look fuckin’ casual.

My fuckin’ phone starts to ring, so I pull it out of my pocket without stopping. Lucille’s picture fills the screen and I push the button to silence the ring. But then something just fuckin’ tells me to answer it. So I do.

“Hey, baby,” I say as I slow a little, but don’t stop walking. Chuck is still in my sight, and I want to get to her before she gets to her dorm. Following a college girl to her room seems like a bad fuckin’ idea.

“ Negan? ” Lucille’s voice sounds weird.

I stop in my tracks. “What’s wrong.”

She clears her throat. “ I’m in the hospital. ”

“What?! Are you okay? What the fuck happened?”

“I-I collapsed at the house I was showing. The clients called the ambulance.” She lets out a breath. “The doctors are doing tests.”

“I’m leaving right the fuck now.” I turn away and walk in the opposite direction of where the fuck I was headed.

The whole ride to the hospital, the only thing I could think about was that I probably already know what the doctors are gonna fuckin’ find when I get there.

———   ———

  “Her cancer had come back,” Negan explains with his head cast down.

“I’m sorry, Negan.” Chuck grabs his hand and holds it in her lap.

“She fought it so fuckin’ hard. And I was there every step of the fuckin’ way. We thought we beat it a few times. But...” He shakes his head. “I focused on Lucille then. I didn’t step out on her. Didn’t even fuckin’ think about it. That’s why I didn’t...” He lifts his head to look at Chuck with tear-filled eyes. “I could’ve still called you, at least.”

“No.” Chuck wipes his cheek. “You were exactly where you needed to be. You did right by Lucille in the end.”

“If I had kept in touch... I could’ve had you with me. You wouldn’t’ve gone through all that shit you did.”

“Negan,” Chuck shakes her head, “don’t feel guilty for things you had no control over. And just...” she cradles his face in her hands, “look to the future with me. The past is the past.”

Negan nods then wraps his arms around Chuck, holding her tight until long after the sun sets.

  Because everyone had such a good time on Halloween, people ask for more holiday celebrations, the next one being Thanksgiving on November 26th. The community meal is all planned with as many traditional dishes they can manage. The most important dish, of course, being the turkey.

Max and his hunting party are very successful and manage to get about forty good sized turkeys, enough for everyone at The Sanctuary and the outposts to have some. There is even enough to send the excess to Hilltop to feed them. When Negan tells Jesus that he is going to be sending turkey his way, Jesus says that the Hillfolk would return the favor by making pumpkin pies. They get the pies all ready and send them along with some saviors to be cooked in The Sanctuary’s industrial ovens.

The day before the holiday is very busy for the kitchen, making sure that all the food is ready to be cooked the following day for the community meal. But Negan assures the kitchen workers that they will be rewarded with extra points for their extra effort.

The day is also busy for another reason. Amber goes into labor in the early afternoon. She requests that Chuck be present in the infirmary to help out with the delivery, and Chuck obliges, though she more often than not just stands back and allows Carson and Kayla to do their thing.

Chuck thought she was prepared for the experience, having read all the books that Carson had provided several times each, but she definitely was not. And it most certainly didn’t look like any childbirth she had seen from tv or movies. But of course, it’s all worth it in the end. It takes about two hours, but Amber births a healthy baby girl.

After the baby is cleaned and has some bonding time with her parents, Amber hands her new daughter to Chuck to hold. The baby fusses for a moment, but soon settles in Chuck’s arms.

“She’s so perfect,” Chuck whispers in awe, never having held a newborn before. “Look at those big blue eyes.” Chuck runs her hand over the soft tuft of hair on the top of the baby’s head. “And blonde hair, too.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kayla comments as she looks at the child.

Chuck doesn’t linger too long, knowing that Amber and Mark would like time alone with their baby. When she gets back upstairs, she’s delighted to see that Negan is cooking dinner.

“How’d it go?” he asks, still standing at the stove preparing their meal.

Chuck lets out a sigh of relief as she sits down at the the counter, thankful to get off her feet. “Really good. Everyone’s healthy.”

Negan turns back to peek at her. “You look fuckin’ tired.”

“My back just kinda hurts. And I’m starving.”

After they eat, they curl up on the couch and watch old dvds of The X Files.

“Fuck, Gillian Anderson was hot.”

Chuck shoots him a look. She is leaning on the opposite arm of the couch with her legs curled up beside her while Negan has his legs kicked up and crossed on an ottoman.

“What?” Negan glances at her and chuckles. “You know I got a fuckin’ thing for redheads,” he teases.

Chuck stretches out her leg to kick his thigh lightly.

“Oh, I’m not allowed to say some actress is hot?” he asks incredulously.

Chuck just shrugs, already aware of where this conversation is going to go.

Negan puts on a higher pitched voice. “‘God, Chris fuckin’ Whatevers-worths abs are ridiculous! Dean Winchester has jaw bones for days!”

Chuck can’t help but giggle at his impression of her, but she’s trying to look mad, even though his point has been made. She knows she does talk about various actors a lot.

He continues. “That dude from that shitty Superman movie is gorgeous .”

Chuck steels herself to give him her most serious look. “I’ll have you know, Dean Winchester does have jawbones for days,” she deadpans.

“Come here,” he teasingly growls and grabs her feet to start tickling them in his lap.

Chuck laughs uncontrollably. “Stop! No tickling!”

“Alright, alright.” He stops, but doesn’t remove his hands from her feet. Instead, he starts to rub them. “You know, I don’t say shit when you talk about all those fuckin’ hunky guys.”

“Well, it’s not like you have anything to worry about.”

“And you have to worry about Gillian Anderson circa 1996 coming here?”

Chuck laughs at the absurdity. “Point taken.”

He continues to massage her feet. “You know I got the biggest fuckin’ boner for you anyways.”

She giggles. “My husband, the poet.”

“What? That’s romantic as shit if you really think about it.”

The way Negan is rubbing the soreness out of her feet has Chuck thinking about what she did today. “Did you ever watch an actual birth?”

“I saw a video in college. It was kinda fucked up.”

“I know, right! Like... I felt really bad for Amber’s vagina.”

Negan laughs. “It seems fuckin’ insane that you’re gonna push a baby sized thing out of your tight ass pussy.”

“It kinda freaked me out. Like, there were all kinds of bodily fluids going on. And Amber was screaming in pain. It was just kinda intense. And I’m gonna experience all that, too.”

“You’ll get through it, baby girl. You’re tough as shit.”

“Amber’s baby is really cute, though,” she comments with a smile.

“They name her?”

“Yeah. Skyler Alice. Amber said Alice was her sister’s name.”

“Shit. I guess we should get on finding a fuckin’ name for our kid.”

Chuck shrugs a little. She’s been going over that very thing in her mind for a while, but she’s been a little worried that Negan won’t like the name she wants.

Negan looks up like he’s thinking. “It’s gotta be something cool, like ‘Negan’, but something cute like ‘Chuck’. Hmm.” He hums, still thinking.

“Uh.” Chuck clears her throat. “How about... umm. Well... I think I have a good name.”

“Well?” he prods when Chuck doesn’t actually say it.

“Madeline Rose.”

Negan’s face instantly drops, but he says nothing.

Chuck can feel her blood pool in her cheeks. “You don’t like it,” she says more as a statement than a question.

He just stares for a moment longer before speaking. “Madeline was my mom’s name.”

Chuck waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. And his reaction makes Chuck not want to admit that she knows that that’s his mother’s name. “So... you don’t like it?”

“I... didn’t say that.”

“I just... uh. I liked it. And I thought of ‘Rose’ for the middle name for my mom. ‘Cause she always smelled like roses. And also... you know, for Lucille, too. Since you said roses were her favorite.”

Negan still doesn’t say anything. He just blinks like he has to process it.

“But also, I wanted ‘Rose’ so I could call her ‘Rosie Cotton’.”

Negan finally cracks a smile. “It’s fuckin’ perfect.”

“Really?” Chuck exclaims. “You really like it?”

He smiles wide. “I fuckin’ love it.” He moves to lean over Chuck’s belly. “My little Madeline.” He softly strokes the baby bump with his fingers. “Our baby Maddie.”

  The cafeteria is, of course, a little crowded because the entire Sanctuary is there for their Thanksgiving dinner. The whole thing goes off without a hitch, though. Each table of six is given a half of a turkey so they can carve it themselves, which made it easier on the kitchen workers.

Negan, naturally, is the one who carves the turkey at their table, which also includes Simon, Patty, Sherry, and Dwight. But before that happens, Negan stands to give a speech to the packed room.

“Today is fuckin’ Thanksgiving! And in the time before all this shit, we used this day to watch football, lounge around, and eat our fuckin’ weights in food. And, yeah, it was fuckin’ nice to get a few days off from work, but that’s not what the day was supposed to be about. This day was supposed to commemorate one group of people being fucking selfless enough to help another group just because it was the right thing to do. Those pilgrims were fuckin’ thankful on that day because they were starving and the Native Americans gave them food. And because of that, on this day, we are supposed to fuckin’ think about everything we have.

“We got food, we got a place to live, we got people and safety. We got families . Including the newest member of The Sanctuary that was just born fuckin’ yesterday.”

People in the room clap at the mention of the new baby, which makes Chuck smile. Despite the fact that there are a ton of people that live here, it still feels like everyone cares about each other. It’s a real close knit community.

“So,” Negan continues, “I am very fuckin’ thankful that we are all here. We went through a bit of a tough time, we lost some good people, but we are still. fucking. here! So, this may be our first Sanctuary Thanksgiving, but it sure as fuck isn’t gonna be the last! Let’s eat!”

The meal is absolutely perfect. The food is all delicious and conversation flows easily. Even though it isn’t in a family dining room, it really feels like a family meal to Chuck.

  After Thanksgiving, the temperature turns colder fairly quickly. And it’s not only the change in weather that has Chuck needing new clothes. Her baby bump is continuing to expand in the weeks that pass.

Chuck finds out quickly that Negan absolutely loves taking care of her. It’s not like she didn’t already know that, but the further along in the pregnancy she gets, the more evident it is.

Negan practically forbids Chuck from putting on her own shoes. Plus, nightly foot rubs become the norm. Those foot massages always come after their nightly baths, where Negan gently washes Chuck’s skin and hair while she just relaxes. And, of course, Negan keeps her fed with homemade meals everyday.

Chuck certainly doesn’t mind the royal treatment.

As the days pass, people start to talk about Christmas. Four Christmases have passed since the world unofficially ended. Three of of those while The Sanctuary existed. People had told Chuck that some people had always celebrated Christmas, or whichever holiday they celebrated, but it was never widespread. This year, though, more people are looking forward to that special time of year.

Including Chuck. Even though she knows that this Christmas won’t compare to next year’s one, because that will be “baby’s first Christmas”, she’s still excited to spend it with the man she loves.

Chuck’s mother had always made a big deal of Christmas. Her family wasn’t exactly religious, but her mother had said that Christmas was about family and being with the ones you love. Those words had always stuck in Chuck’s mind every Christmas after the turn. After she lost everyone she had ever known.

And that last Christmas at the nursing home... It had almost broken her.

But now, she had Negan. And everything is perfect.

“Baby’s awake!” Chuck calls out from her seat on the couch. She has been feeling the movement in her belly pretty consistently, but Negan has yet to feel it. Chuck keeps telling him that it’s not uncommon, but she knows he’s disappointed.

Negan walks into their bedroom from the office. “Still kicking?” he asks as he sits beside Chuck on the couch.

“Yup.”

Negan sneaks his hand under Chuck’s shirt and places it on Chuck’s belly. He stays still for several moments, trying to feel the movement. “I can’t feel shit,” he comments dejectedly.

“You will, Negan. It might just be my uterus, you know. But you’ll be able to feel her eventually. Couple more weeks, tops.”

He sighs and pushes himself back into the couch.

Negan looks so sad that Chuck wants to make him feel better. “I’m sorry,” Chuck breaks the silence.

Negan turns his head to her. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I just wanna feel her.”

Chuck’s eyes flick to movement outside the window behind Negan. “It’s snowing!” The snowflakes reflect the light coming from the window and almost shine against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

Negan turns his head to the window. “It won’t stick. Still too fuckin’ warm.”

“We might have snow for Christmas, though.”

“Hmm,” is his unenthusiastic response.

“You’re not excited about it?”

“I’m not fuckin’ religious.”

“Neither am I, but I still can’t wait.”

Negan just shrugs.

“It’s going to be our first Christmas together,” she comments quietly.

Negan nods. “You’re right. We can have a nice and quiet fuckin’ Christmas together.” He pulls her into his side. “Just fuckin’ lounge around and not do shit. But fuck, maybe.”

Chuck giggles. “We have to watch Die Hard, though.”

Negan laughs. “Fuck yeah, we will! Die Hard is the shit!”

Even though Negan is a little blasé about the holiday, Chuck is determined to get him the perfect gift. That proves to be difficult in a time where there are no more stores. But Chuck has an idea.

She goes around and finds someone who used to be an artist, a woman named Sara. Arat is actually the one that pointed her out to Chuck, having known and worked with her for some time. The artist is a savior and has her own room on the fourth floor, which Arat leads Chuck to.

“Do you think you could draw a face of a person if I described it to you?” Chuck asks the woman, who is in her early thirties, thin, with a sleek black bob reminiscent of the ones from the twenties.

“Yeah, sure!” Sara responds enthusiastically. She moves over to her shelf and grabs a notebook and some pencils. “Is this for Negan?”

‘Yeah,” Chuck answers. “So I kinda need you to be discrete about it.”

Sara puts her hand up. “Say no more. This is a special commission and won’t leave this room.” She gestures to a desk in the room and Chuck sits on one chair as Sara takes the one next to it.

“So, um, can we do it like 8x10 so I can put it in a picture frame?”

“Yeah. You want it just black and white or color. I have colored pencils and pastels, too.”

“Uh... color,” Chuck decides. “That would be nice.”

Sara sets up her page and pencils. “So tell me what you want.”

Chuck goes on to describe the picture of Negan’s mother that she had seen once before in his office back at school. Though Chuck only saw the picture once, she never forgot the woman’s beautiful face. And she is fairly easy to describe because she pretty much looked like a feminine Negan.

Chuck knows that Negan loved his mother very much, but doesn’t have any pictures of her. When Chuck had Negan go through his mementos, she had hoped that the picture she saw all those years ago was there so they could hang it in the nursery, but it wasn’t.

Chuck couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift than to give Negan the chance to see his mother’s face again.

It takes a while, but in the end, Sara gets the rough picture finished. She tells Chuck she’ll work on it more and add the colors. Chuck makes sure to pick out the color of Negan’s mother’s skin, eyes, and hair, so Sara can get it right.

The day before Christmas, Negan is busy making sure everything is done that needs to be done. Though there won’t be a big community dinner like there was for Thanksgiving, Negan tells The Sanctuary that anyone that wants the day off to get together with friends and family can take it off and still get half pay. Anyone that still wants to work will get double pay. A lot of people decide to take the day off, so much of The Sanctuary won’t be working on Christmas.

Chuck uses Negan’s absence to her advantage and asks Simon and Laura to help her get a fake Christmas tree and decorations up to Negan’s office. She spends all day setting up the tree and putting the ornaments on it, though she saves the star for Negan.

Negan comes in just before dinner time and immediately stops in the doorway as he looks at what Chuck has done. Chuck, who has been sitting on the couch in the office waiting for Negan to arrive, just casually turns the page of the book she’s pretending to read, acting like she doesn’t know anything about the fully decked out Christmas tree.

After a moment, Negan finally closes the door and walks into the room. “What’s all this, sweetheart.”

Chuck stands up to meet him. “I don’t know. It just appeared,” she teases.

“Oh, did it, now?” Negan wraps his arms around Chuck and kisses her head.

“Yup. But the star still needs hanging.” She picks up the star and hands it to Negan. “I couldn’t reach.”

“I thought mysterious beings set this shit up.”

Chuck shrugs. “I guess they couldn’t reach either.”

Negan places the star on top and steps back to look at the tree. “Just tell me you didn’t carry all that shit up here by yourself.”

“Of course not.” She turns to look at him. “So you don’t like it?”

“Yeah, I like it.”

“Well, you’ve just been so... not in the Christmas spirit. I thought if I did this...” She gestures to the tree.

Negan hangs his head. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Christmas has always been fuckin’ rough for me. When I was a kid, the only thing I could look forward to on Christmas morning was a goddamn beating.”

Chuck kisses his cheek and hugs him. “I’m sorry, Negan.”

“My mom...” He clears his throat. “My father killed her in December. So, I’ve never really cared for the whole fuckin’ month, really.”

“Oh, Negan...” Chuck holds him tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Negan wraps his arms around Chuck to hug her back. “I didn’t want to fuckin’ ruin it for you. But I just... I’m trying, but it’s fuckin’ hard, baby girl.”

“Well, next Christmas is gonna be completely different. Because were gonna have a little girl to spoil. It’ll all be about her.”

Negan smiles at that. “Damn right.” He gives Chuck a quick peck before heading off to the kitchen to make dinner.

After the meal, the couple cuddles up together back on the couch in the office in front of the tree, admiring the twinkling lights in the dim room. They sit there for hours, just talking easily and laying with each other. Negan shifts so he’s laying beside Chuck across the couch, his head turned down to Chuck’s belly and his hand placed softly atop it.

“You doing okay in there, Maddie?” he coos.

“She likes hearing your voice,” Chuck comments.

“Really?”

“She seems to move around more when you talk to her.”

Negan shifts so that his mouth is even closer to Chuck’s baby bump. “Come on, Maddie. Give daddy a good kick so I can fuckin’ feel it.”

Chuck places one hand on Negan’s head and the other on his hand on her stomach. “She’s not moving yet. She might be sleeping.”

Negan makes a disappointed noise, but doesn’t move. “When will she wake-“ Instead of finishing his sentence, he lets out a gasp.

At the same time, Chuck feels a strong kick. “Did you feel that?”

Negan looks up to Chuck with wide eyes and a huge smile. “I fuckin’ felt that!”

“You did?”

“Yeah!” He looks back down to her belly. “Do it again, Maddie.”

After a moment, the baby kicks again making Negan giggle. And that’s a noise Chuck has never heard come out of Negan before.

Chuck flicks her gaze to the clock on the wall. “Hey look.” She points to it and Negan follows her hand. “It’s past midnight. It’s Christmas.”

Negan laughs slightly, his grin still spread ear to ear. “This is the best fuckin’ Christmas I’ve ever had already.”

Negan keeps his hand on Chuck’s belly until the baby stops moving around. Chuck tells him that she probably really is sleeping now. With the excitement over, the couple gets ready for bed. While Negan is in the bathroom brushing his teeth, Chuck takes the opportunity to slip back out into the office and place her gift to Negan under the tree.

When Chuck wakes up the next morning, she finds Negan laying curled around her with his ear pressed into her belly.

“Morning,” she rasps, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Can I hear her heartbeat?” Negan suddenly asks without moving.

Chuck giggles. “I don’t know. Can you?”

“I mean, is it fuckin’ possible?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hear... It sounds like a fast fuckin’ heartbeat?”

“That’s her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit. I can hear her heartbeat,” he says, his voice filled with wonder.

Even though Chuck is excited to give Negan his present, she lets him listen to their baby’s heartbeat for as long as he wants. When he finally sits back up, Chuck jumps out of bed and pulls him out with her.

“What are you so excited about?” Negan teases.

Chuck continues to pull him out to the office. “I want to see if Santa came.”

When Chuck gets to the tree, she sees two wrapped presents sitting underneath it, the one she put there last night and another one. She whips around to look back to Negan.

He shrugs. “Santa must’ve fuckin’ come.”

Chuck just stares back at him. She really didn’t expect him to get her anything, let alone surprise her with it. He must’ve put the present there this morning before she woke up.

“Well,” he gestures to the tree, “you wanna see what Santa got you?”

“You first.”

“No, you-“

Chuck cuts him off. “You first,” she says more forcefully.

Negan chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart.” He goes to the tree and picks up both presents, which are similar in size, handing Chuck’s to her before they both sit on the couch.

“I hope you like it.” Chuck smiles at him, but she’s nervous.

Negan seems to pick up on that fact and gives her a quick kiss. “I love it already.”

She giggles. “You haven’t even opened it, yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. You gave it to me so I fuckin’ love it.”

Chuck laughs again. “Open it.”

Negan rips through the wrapping paper and turns the picture frame around to see what it showcases. Chuck can’t immediately tell what he thinks of it; his face has so many emotions going on at the same time.

“What do you think?” Chuck asks, nervous about how he’s going to answer.

His mouth is agape as he stares down at the picture in his hands. “What- How...” He finally looks up to Chuck. “How did you get this?”

“I, uh... Back... in high school, I saw a picture of your mother in your office. And... I knew her name was Madeline because it was written on the back. That’s why I wanted that name. I didn’t tell you...”

Negan looks back down to the picture. “It’s...” He runs his fingers over the picture. “It looks just like how I remember her.”

“I thought we could put it in the nursery. If-If you wanted to.”

Negan lets out a soft sob and brings his free hand up to cover his face.

Chuck, thinking that he hates the picture so much that it upsets him, tries to take the picture out of his hand to get rid of it.

Negan doesn’t let her, though. He brings the picture tight to his chest as tears stream down his face.

The sight has tears welling up in Chuck’s eyes. “Are you okay, Negan? I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

He breathes in a deep breath and wipes his face. “It’s so fuckin’ perfect,” he chokes out. “Thank you.” He wipes her cheek, too. “Thank you so much for this.”

Chuck gives him a little smile. “You like it?”

“I fuckin’ love it so goddamn much.” He leans forward to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He clears his throat and composes himself. “Shit. I think I need to get you a better gift.” He laughs.

She picks up the box. “No. I’m gonna love it.” She pulls the paper off of the box and sees that Negan had gotten her a box set of the show Firefly including the movie Serenity.

“I remembered you liked it and I never fuckin’ watched it so... We can fuckin’ watch it together.”

Chuck smiles. “I love it.” She wraps her arms around Negan and hugs him tight.

Negan pulls her into his lap and hugs her back. “This is my most fuckin’ favorite day yet and it’s all because of you,” he whispers. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Chuck.”

She giggles. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

[chasingforeverandaday]

Stop the World & Melt with You: Chapter Six

Hey look! It's done! Yay! Sorry this took for-freaking-ever to get out, but I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who has put up with this rollercoaster, you guys rock!

I apologize for the long absence of updates, but finals season sucks, so will be so glad when that's over next Thursday (for me at least). I then have three weeks before summer classes start up, so hopefully I'll have an update of don't trust the devil inside set to go soon. I also may decide to ignore studying for Business Law again, and it might pop up later this week.

Chapter Summary: Date night going off without a hitch seems a bit too good to be true...

Also on AO3

Lenore was at the office, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the clean part of her desk, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. It was Friday afternoon, and she did not give a shit what anyone thought of her behavior. She had a date tonight.

“So, the plan is dinner at your place at seven, right?”

“The plans haven’t changed in the past two minutes Lenore.”

“Oh hush you. I swear I’m not purposefully being neurotic, I just want tonight to go perfectly.” Sighing, Lenore’s anxiety over the evening bubbled up again, leading her to sheepishly rush through the next question. “And we’re having?”

“We’re getting takeout from Mia Z’s, as previously agreed upon.”

“Sounds perfect, I don’t think we need the entirety of the New York Fire Department crashing a date, our friends seem do that enough all on their own. And remember-”

HG cut her off, rattling off Lenore’s favorite order by memory. “‘Fettuccine alfredo with grilled chicken and all the extra garlic, with a side salad and fresh breadsticks.’ Did I miss anything? I promise I am completely capable of planning a proper date Lenore, scout’s honor.” He paused, the rest of her comment coming back to him, before continuing indignantly, “And I am not that bad of a cook!”

“Please, you know you love the garlic. Whatever you end up with is also going to have a shit ton of garlic in it, we’re having Italian, it’s kind of a given. Hate to break it to you my dear Professor, but you got kicked out of the Boy Scouts. I do believe it was for setting three tents on fire, if I’m recollecting that lovely story correctly- ”

“-it’s not like there was anything in any of them! We had barely begun to set up camp!”

“You were twelve!”

“So? I’ve always been advanced for my age!”

“Okay, discontinuing that train of thought, you are so completely and utterly that bad of a cook. Baking, I will totally agree, you bake amazingly well. There is a reason you’re always in charge of dessert. But cooking? Nope, you suck at cooking.”

“Balderdash, cooking is incredibly difficult! Baking is easy, all you have to do is follow the directions and stick everything in the oven. One has to pay far more attention when cooking and make adjustments on the fly and I become distracted much too easily and then we end up with a mushy ball of spaghetti.”

“Relax, babe. I’m just teasing. I know enough to make sure we’d survive if all the takeout joints in the city suffered an untimely end, I promise.” Smiling softly to herself, she was about to keep poking at her boyfriend’s culinary ineptitude when her phone started to vibrate again. Pulling it away from her ear, Lenore glanced down at the caller ID. “Hang on, our favorite drama king is calling on the other line, I should probably grab that.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Love you too Goggles. Okay, now I gotta go. Later gator!” Mentally floating on cloud nine, she hung up, switching over to the call from Oscar. Before she could even say hi, he started rambling.

“Lenore! Why on earth were you taking so long to answer your bloody phone? Nevermind, more important gossip is at stake. Did you hear about what just happened with Charlotte and Anton? Apparently, they were dating! Even though she was totally riding solo at the party for New Years! And making eyes at Ernest, which is just ick, I mean hello, it’s Ernest, I wouldn’t date him if you paid me. Not that Lottie dearest such a bloody prize herself! Plus, didn’t she used to have a thing for- oh nevermind, not important right now! Where was I? Oh, right, anyways, now she and Anton broke up! And she’s being cross with me, well, more of an uptight bitch with me than normal, in any case. Do you think that means he wants to hook up with me again? I mean, I know it was just a few times and it was months ago, but she’s acting so pissed at me, that has to be it, right?” Finally stopping for breath, Oscar sucked in a deep gasp of air, relieving his poor overworked lungs.

Rolling her eyes, Lenore adopted an overly perky tone and chirped obnoxiously, “Hello, Oscar, how are you? Oh I’m feeling fabulous, thanks so much for asking. Charlotte and Anton were secretly dating and then they broke up? Gasp, so scandalous!” For full effect, even if he couldn’t see her, she mockingly swooned back in her chair, hand to her forehead.

“You’re hilarious Lenore, truly hysterical. Now, I need your help,” he pronounced. Quite seriously, Oscar pondered, “Do you think ‘frenemies before men in my sheets’ would be an applicable motto here?”

Snorting loudly, she responded, “Babes, not actually a saying.”

“I don’t care in the least, it’s appropriate.” Oh good Lord, he actually sounded offended.

“You’re never appropriate.”

“True, oh well. We need to get dinner tonight, I must call a strategy meeting to determine if I’m allowed to go after that scrumptious hunk of man.”

Bolting upright, she braced herself for a long argument. “I can’t tonight Oscar. I have plans already.”

“What?”

“Plans, I have them.”

“Well cancel them, we need to have a council of war.”

“I am not canceling my date with HG again!”

“But-”

“Nope. Not happening. We are going on this date if I have to stick the rest of you in a padded cell for the duration of it.”

“Mean. Charlotte would murder me in minutes and I doubt you want to put your brother and Ernest together in a confined space, especially with Annabel.”

“The rest of you can buffer. And besides, Edgar has been surprisingly sedate in his celebrations after the breakup. I’ve only caught him dancing in the kitchen like twice. This week.” Thinking about it, Lenore added, “I’d honestly be more worried about him decking Ernest if he propositions her again. I do not need to deal with the hospital paperwork if he breaks his hand. Not that she can’t deal with the idiot on her own, but Edgar is feeling euphoric and white knight-like right now.”

“This is all hypothetical you know. You can’t actually lock all of your friends away just so you can get some.”

“Exactly, it’s all hypothetical so I have plausible deniability. Plus, I’ll have a foolproof alibi as of seven. Besides, this is not about getting some!” Realizing how loud she’d gotten, Lenore lowered her voice and tersely whispered, “Okay, not just about getting some, because trust me, that needs to happen too.”

Her friend burst into laughter over the phone, which was not helping his case, at all.

“Screw you, Oscar, I want to fucking jump my boyfriend alright, so fuck you. No, this is about the fact that HG and I haven’t been able to be alone for more than like half an hour without getting interrupted! I mean, seriously, we’re cursed! We haven’t had a complete date yet. And all of you suck, because our friends are like half the problem.”

“Calm your tits, Poe, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I though? Am I really? I needed to have surgery, nobody that we know is capable of knocking, the fucking computers broke, Annabel and Eddie broke up, and we made out in your closet. None of these things equal a date! Hell, none of those things even equal third base!” Chest heaving, Lenore realized she was way too worked up to get anything else done for the day. “Damnit, okay, I need to leave before I bite anyone’s head off.” Beginning her end of the day routine, she listened as Oscar spoke in his patented dial down the wonko voice, officially coined as such by Mary Anne during an extended episode of writer’s block.

“Okay, I have basically no idea what any of that means, because you’re acting more than a bit bonkers. And please don’t tell me you’ve decapitated anyone today, because I’m assuming life in the Big House puts a damper on the hotly anticipated sexy times with the boytoy.” Oscar rolled the last words, laced with so much innuendo that Lenore tripped and banged her head against the wall. Swearing at herself, she could just hear her friend’s trilling laugh before he continued.

“Just go and enjoy your date, I’ll keep the masses from descending, barring an actual emergency, in which case, you can bet your ass I’m calling you. There is no way in hell I’m dealing with one of those without someone else who could possibly be deemed a semi-rational adult.” Which was entirely reasonable, because the frequency at which their friends ended up in the hospital or overnight lock-up was borderline terrifying to think about.

“How exactly are you planning on doing so?”

She could see his habitual generous hand-waving in her head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. Feel free to primp and pamper as needed, as I’m sure in my utter brilliance I can come up with some way to distract them for the whole night. As payment for such a wonderful good deed, I expect full details tomorrow at our strategy meeting, darling. Hmm, maybe we can do brunch.”

Finally realizing he was entirely serious about herding the cats, a grin broke out over Lenore’s face as she rushed to the elevator. “I’m going to hug you tomorrow, so freaking hard. Thanks Oscar, really. Thank you.”

“Oh quit gushing, you’ve stroked my ego enough. Now, I’d say let’s grab breakfast, but tomorrow’s Saturday, and I highly doubt you’ll be up anytime before eleven, so brunch seems necessary.” The wiggling eyebrows were practically audible through the phone. “And you are giving me all of the details. I’m in a dry spell here.”

By now, she was tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the ground level button to light up. The easy banter was pleasantly distracting, but damn if she didn’t want to fast-forward a few hours. “And that guy you were hooking up with last week at the party was all a figment of my imagination?” That didn’t mean she couldn’t get Oscar back for all the earlier teasing.

Sniffing, Oscar corrected her haughtily,“A romantic dry spell bitch. I am having exactly as much sex as I want to be having, thank you very much. It’s the sappy romance part that’s lacking.”

Smirking, she cooed, “Aww, hook-up prince Oscar wants to be romanced.”

“You know I can invent all sorts of ways to crash your date, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ding . Finally let out of the crushing mob leaving work, Lenore headed for the exit, then stopped short when she saw who was standing just inside the lobby. Switching direction, she grinned widely and cut off Oscar’s retort. “It appears my date has mysteriously arrived early to whisk me away from work, so I’m gonna go. Later Oscar. And thanks for the whole distracting everyone thing.”

Sighing, he replied melodramatically, “Fine, leave me and go be romanced and ravished by your wonderful boyfriend. Don’t forget to be safe and use protection!”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“Remember, all the details!”

“Goodbye Oscar!” Laughing, Lenore tossed her phone into her purse before running the last few steps and hurling herself into HG’s waiting arms. Nose buried in his scarf, she felt a sense of contentedness she hadn’t realized she was missing settle in. Glancing up through her eyelashes, Lenore pressed her lips to his cheek, cold from the January chill. “Hi.”

“Hello my dear Lenore.” Warmth pervading his tone, HG tilted her head upwards, kissing her gently once, twice before resting their foreheads together. “Apparently, I have been uttered useless and distracted all day. My assistant basically forced me out of the building, said that they could handle everything until Monday.” Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, he added, “I came straight here.”

“I’m glad you did, Oscar had to talk me off a cliff.” At his questioning glance, she shrugged. “Nothing bad, just want tonight to actually happen. He has agreed to amuse to children for the night, barring extreme circumstances.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

“I owe him brunch and gossip tomorrow.”

“Ah, so not entirely selfless.”

“Well, he wanted to grab dinner and figure out if he could hook up with Charlotte’s-”

Cutting her off, he rumbled, “Lenore, I could not possibly care less right now.” Still locked in his arms, Lenore found herself reeled in again, engaged in a heady, needy kiss. One of his hands grasping her braid, she felt every ounce of love and want poured into it, losing herself to the electrifying sensation and kindling desire that had been simmering for weeks, possibly months. Remembering where they were was difficult when HG seemed hellbound to erase any thought not of him, though Lenore’s remaining shreds of common sense reminded her they were bordering on the lines of inappropriate for public viewing. Determined to keep a level head, she abruptly pulled away, stopping his lips from chasing hers with a finger.

“Okay, hang on.” Undeterred by her attempted stern look, HG lightly kissed the finger still holding his lips back. Rolling her eyes, she removed it and tried not to giggle when he pouted. “Babe, not helping. We need to head back to your apartment, like now. I am not getting arrested for public indecency at work. Now let’s move. We can always call for Mia Z’s later.”

Placing a hand to his chin, he pretended to mull the idea over before holding out his elbow. “A sound plan. Shall we?”

Locking her arm with his, she smiled. “Oh, we shall.”