#pushes fox's coffee mug off the table when she thinks he's had enough

[ermakeys]

Corrie Guard 1: Look, I got Cran a toy!

Corrie Guard 2: Uh, vod, I don't think she likes it?

Corrie Guard 1: No, I'm sure she'll-.

*two corries are seen running from a hissing tooka cat*

[aoifeymollo]

Grand Masters

The storms here were always a different breed; rain drumming against the window with enough ferocity to shake the glass, waves crashing hard against the rocks, the wind howling through every tiny crack in any given building. Lizzie liked it. There was a protective cosiness around being shielded from the elements by steel and stone; like you could withstand the rest of the world crumble beneath you as you looked on, safe in the security of the walls. Milo’s pale, elegant fingers curled around the white enamel of his mug, warming themselves against the feeling of hot coffee. However, he didn’t seem to be suffering from the summer storm like she was – Lizzie had layered two jumpers and a blanket over her shirt, while he seemed perfectly happy in the (expensive looking) creamy, cable-knit sweater that he’d arrived in. He pulled the colour off so well – the peachy blush of his cheeks ensured that the wan shade complimented his natural complexion.

Ah, she was staring again.

She smiled behind her enclosed fist, reaching for the carved wooden king on the board in front of her. It really wasn’t fair. He was much better at chess than she was. He knew it, she knew it, and yet they still insisted on playing each other – why? She wasn’t certain. Maybe it was that slight, anticipatory light that played on his lips, or the way his ochre eyes shone like coins in the sand as they focused on his next move. It was probably that. Ah, Lizzie, what a terrible habit to fall into. ‘Lizzie?’

Mmm? She was jerked from her state of contemplation. Milo’s gaze had moved from the board to her, a curious, ruddy eyebrow quirked, and she realized she was still holding the chess piece, holding up the game. A soft sigh left her, and she tipped it over in defeat, pushing herself away from the table. I concede. I can never win against you, anyway.

‘And that means you just give yourself up? How disappointing.’ His sharp smile grew, creeping up the side of his face like a crack in the ice. ‘Very unlike you.’ Not all of us can be geniuses, Milo. Lizzie rolled her eyes, hiding her grin, and reached for his now-empty cup, resting atop her crumpled, foxed notebook. She got to her feet, intending to prepare a refill for the pair of them. A heaped spoon of instant and a substantial splash of warm milk for her; whatever concoction he was in the mood for at the time, for him. However, before she had time to round the worn counter and reach for the coffee, she felt the warm presence of a hand clasp around her wrist.

Hm?

‘One more look. Just one’, he cajoled, his voice gentle and melodic. It was that soft, persuasive tone that always got him his way, and today was no exception. Lizzie left his mug down on the edge of the counter, peering over his broad shoulder.

For what?

‘Mistakes.’ Mistakes? What was he talking about now? She sighed, squinting at the board again. There she was, her little king and two pawns surrounded by the intimidating white of Milo’s remaining chess pieces. This felt like an exercise in sadism, giving her false hope and then taking it away. He was sweet, he was funny, he was smart… but he was also a total gremlin when he wanted to be, and when he wanted to be was apparently often. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

‘Yes, you do.’

No, I don’t, She said, very deliberately.

‘Yes, you do.’ Milo nudged the chair back so that she could get a better look from her vantage point. As he disturbed the air, she caught the familiar scents of citrus and warm coffee, like a cold hug. ‘Once more and I’ll leave you alone.’ No, you won’t. She gave him a little poke in his upper arm, feeling her finger give way against the thick wool and smooth muscle. Ouch. Alright, alright, what do I see… I see that I am severely censored, that’s what I see.

The young man arched his scarlet eyebrow once more. ‘Surely you can do better than that.’

I really think you’re over-estimating me here. Lizzie sighed, placing her chipped fingernail on the king again. I’m surrounded on all sides, Milo. I’m not sure how I’m meant to get out of this.

‘The aggressive play.’ _His sharp, white teeth were exposed in a smile. ‘Don’t be so cautious. Play to claim, rather than to evade.’ Play to claim…

Lizzie considered her remaining soldiers. Well. Provided that she was careful with her – no, that wasn’t what he’d said. The aggressive play. She tentatively moved her king forward.

Milo immediately countered by inching his own king a step backward. Oh. Oh. You better not be letting me win this, she said, the left pawn following his movement.

He moved his king to the left. ‘You are chess master, as I live and breathe.’

You’re definitely letting me win. Lizzie’s right pawn travelled after her other two pieces, and despite her assertation that Milo was leaving things open for her, she began to feel a sense of anticipation. He ignored her feeble attempt to goad an admittance from him, sliding his rook down the length of the board to try and claim her pieces – but she saw it coming, angling past his king, and before she’d known it, she’d reached the end of the board. Ah, that was the mistake. He’d allowed her to pass a pawn all the way down to the other side – one of the more common issues that tended to slip under the radar. No one looked at a pawn as a threat until it had silently arrived at the very end. But the pawn was now the queen, and Lizzie moved back to diagonally trap his king, effectively boxing him in, and ending the match.

Oh. She sounded surprised after she’d just announced checkmate, as though she wasn’t really expecting it until it happened. Look at that.

‘Look at that,’ Milo repeated with a grin, getting to his feet, and ushering her down into the chair he’d just vacated. ‘Victory is yours. Coffee’s my treat.’

You’re just saying that because I never make it hot enough for you.

‘Shh.’ He cut himself off, one graceful finger over his lips, as though it were a well-kept secret.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Northern Exposure | Sam

❄ PART 2 OF THE MINI-SERIES ❄

Part 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); face riding/oral, violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: Special announcement later today and as usual, update are consistently inconsistent for my other series but I promise, I’m always working on something.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The three men, the heroes who were truly villains, kept you tied up as they tied a rope to an old rickety pallet and pulled you on it like a large sled. You shivered as the hills of snow left you dizzy and when you rolled off, you were thrown back on by Bucky who treated you like the spy he’d mistaken you for.

The second time you fell off, they didn’t notice right away. You managed to get your feet under you but before you could hop too far, the snow crunched and you were scooped up again. This time Bucky threatened to break your nose and Steve talked him down as Sam tried to coax you that all would be better if you didn’t try that again.

The sun rose and they continued on. The sky never paled more than a dim grey and the restless night gathered behind your forehead. A splitting headache fed by the biting cold. When the plains began to darken again and the moonlight rose to reflect off the snow, you stilled.

It took a moment to sight the bunker. The doorway was shoveled out and even if it were spring, the roof would look no more than a lump in the ground. You’d been up this way weeks ago, a snow fox and its kits had been skittering around. You groaned at the realisation of your mistake.

You were lifted by Sam and Steve grabbed your chin as you dragged towards the door. He looked you over and shared a look with Sam, “we need to warm her up,” your teeth chattered as if to reiterate his words, “we should’ve let her walk.”

“Just get inside,” Bucky scowled and stomped down the hidden stairs.

You nearly fell down as you hopped to the top step at Sam’s nudge. He caught you and descended at your side, your bodies flush in the tight space. The door opened and Bucky pushed the door in. Steve entered behind you and locked it as the lights flickered on and a generator began to whir.

As Sam guided you to a chair, Bucky elbowed past him and shoved you into the seat gruffly. He was jabbed by the other man and Steve snapped at both of them with his fingers. The blond opened a cupboard in the underground shelter and pulled out a vacuum sealed pouch.

“She should eat, it’ll warm her up,” he moved the kettle onto the gas burner, “and change her clothes. They’re wet from the snow.”

“I still don’t know why you had to bring her back--”

“Why’s it always shoot this and shoot that?” Sam scoffed, “I thought they got all that shit out of your head.”

“It’s our job,” Bucky snarled.

“Our job isn’t to kill civilians,” Steve shoved the pouch in the small microwave above the gas stove and turned.

“And when was it our job to babysit? Or whatever it is you two are planning,” Bucky crossed his arms.

Steve brushed past him and knelt to look you in the face, “Coffee or tea?”

“What?” you blinked and looked between him and the two other men, Sam watched you with a subtle grin as he unzipped his parka.

“We have some hot chocolate but it’s military issued and tastes awful,” he explained, “so?”

You frowned and met his gaze, “tea?” you answered weakly.

“Alright, and…” his hands went to the zip tie on your wrists, “if I untie you, you won’t try anything, okay?”

“Is that really a question?” you asked.

He pursed his lips and tilted his head, “fair enough but it’s your choice.”

You considered and poked your tongue against your teeth, “you can untie me.”

Steve grabbed the plastic tie and snapped it easily. He did the same to the one around your ankles and handed them to Bucky as he stood. He went back to the kitchenette as the microwave beeped. Sam came closer and rested his hand on the chair.

“You want me to get her changed, I got something she can borrow,” he said as he slipped his hand onto your shoulder. You flinched and he squeezed as Bucky tossed the ties and rolled his eyes.

“Get her clothes, I’m sure she can manage to get them on herself,” Steve felt the kettle but didn’t seem to feel the heat as you heard the water begin to roil.

Sam sighed but backed up. He disappeared into another room and Bucky hung his jacket with the others. He dropped down onto the bench by the door and unlaced his boots gruffly. He shook his head as he kicked them off.

“So, what’s your name, not Ursa?” Sam reappeared and plopped a pile of clothes in your lap.

You looked up at him and swallowed. He was so interested it made you want to vomit. His suggestion might have saved your life but it also promised you little more than imprisonment. You weren’t stupid and the way he hovered assured you of his intent. You gave him your name and stood cautiously.

“Where can I change?” you asked softly.

“Just in there,” Steve said when Sam didn’t answer and pointed to the same door.

You nodded and stepped around the other man. Bucky yawned loudly and kicked his feet out. You left them and closed the door. There were no windows and the only other door led to a closet.

You removed your hat, the gloves hastily shoved on above your restraints, your coat, and wet boots. Next you peeled off your jeans and the fleece leggings beneath. You kept looking up at the door as you pulled on the dry clothing; a loose tee, looser sweatpants, and large socks. The hoodie’s zip was broken and the sleeves were too long. Even so, it was warm.

You hesitated and only went to the door when a bang shook it, “your food’s ready,” Steve called through.

You opened the door and stepped out. He stayed close and you felt his heat as he held out a bowl of chunky stew and a steaming mug. You took it and he pointed you to the metal TV tray set up by the armchair. You sat and blew on the tea before you sipped. You didn’t know what else to do.

You ate quietly between Steve’s shy glances, Sam’s constant leer, and Bucky’s blatant indifference. You felt queasy but didn’t know what to do. You could run for the door and then what? Freeze to death on the tundra?

“You could… you could take me back still,” you said, “promise I won’t say anything.”

“We should just get rid of her,” Bucky huffed and finally looked at you, “this place is bad enough without--”

“Man, how about we get rid of you?” Sam puffed, “All you do is complain.”

“Look,” Steve pulled up a wooden chair from beside the matching table, “we can’t do that, it’s too risky.” He sat and gripped his knees, “It’s against protocol to just ignore security risks. It isn’t about you wanting or not wanting to say anything, it’s about what someone could make you say if they found you, just like Bucky here did.”

“They wouldn’t know--”

“The photos--”

“Burn them,” you said, “please, I didn’t do anything.”

“You sure this isn’t her, Wilson? You are a bit slow?” Bucky spat.

“Shut up, jackass,” Sam retorted, “hey, honey,” he came closer, “we don’t wanna hurt you.”

“And what you do want?” you stirred the bowl, “I don’t want that either.”

He arched a brow and smirked at Steve. Steve fidgeted and Bucky groaned.

“We’ll be nice,” Sam said.

“Cap,” you ignored him and watched Steve, “you’re a good guy, don’t do this. Up here, it’s hard, the isolation, I know, but you don’t want this. Maybe you should head back south and get your head on straight.”

Steve’s jaw squared as he considered you. He inhaled and his tongue peeked out between his lips. He looked at Sam and sighed. He shook his head.

“You can’t manipulate me,” he stood and moved the chair back, “Sam’s right, it won’t hurt. In fact, looks like you’ve been here long enough that we’re doing you a favour.”

“No--”

“Should we flip for it?” Sam asked, “who gets the first night since idiot’s a no go.”

Bucky sneered and stood. The other two watched him as he stormed past them and slammed the door behind him as he fled to the other room. Your last hope was gone. You thought even if he was mean, that Bucky might stop them and hopefully not just to tie loose ends up with a bullet.

“Heads,” Steve said as he kept his hand on the back of the wooden chair, his shoulders tense as he hung his head.

Sam fished around in his pockets then searched in his parka and finally found a coin in one of the drawers. He held it up and went to stand on the other side of the table. He flipped it and let fall between him and Steve on the wood. The latter sniffed and nodded dully.

“Let her finish eating first,” Steve said, “I’ll deal with Buck, he’s just… standoffish. You know how he can be. He’ll come around.”

“Even if he doesn’t, more for us,” Sam winked and Steve shoved himself away from the table.

You caught his eye as he headed for the bedroom door and when it closed behind him, your heart sank. You scooped up a mouthful of stew and slurped it up. The only man left strode around the room and sat on the low couch. He spread his legs wide and stretched his arms over the back, his gaze intent on you.

You ate slowly even though each bite made your stomach growl and built your appetite. You drank the tea carefully and relished the last dregs. He could hear how empty the glass was and when he stood, you sat back and drew your feet up onto the seat to hug your legs. He cleared the table and folded it.

He stalked around the room like an animal around its prey. You touched your cheeks and sunk down.

“Are you really going to do this?” you asked at last.

“I only want to treat you nice,” he said as he came closer, he reached out and tickled the back of your hand, “it was Bucky who hurt you, not me.”

“You could’ve left me--”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“But you don’t have to do this,” you argued.

“Why is it so bad? Aren’t you lonely? You have to be,” he slipped his fingers under your hand and drew your arm away from your legs, “all the way up here, alone.”

“That’s not--” you trembled and he tugged until you were out of the chair, “I don’t know you.”

“But you’ve heard of me? And Steve. Even Bucky,” he purred and put your hand on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and swayed as if he was dancing with you. He took your other hand and twined his fingers through yours, “Come on, baby, I just want to make you feel good.”

You batted away the glossy tears with your lashes as you were trapped in his embrace, “why?”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead as he turned you, “because I gave Bucky your coordinates,” he backed you up slowly, “because I knew you weren’t her but knew I wanted you.”

“No…” you breathed as your legs met the low seat of the couch, “you were following me?”

“I just… stumbled upon you and…” his voice trailed off as he focused on your lips and his eyes turned smoky, “baby, you know you need it too.”

“No,” you gasped and pushed against him.

He crushed his lips into yours and leaned on you until you were forced back onto the couch. He angled you across it, his arm beneath you as he moved his hips slowly. You felt his excitement through his jeans as his breath stuttered in your mouth.

You turned your head away as his other hand skirted along the hem of the loose tee. He slid his fingers under the open hoodie and the cotton shirt. A shiver went up your spine as his hand crawled up your stomach.

“Please,” you whispered as you stared at the carpet.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, “am I hurting you?”

Your eyes were wet but you fluttered away the tears, “no,” you mumbled, “but…”

Your voice dissolved as he cupped your chest and ground his crotch against you harder. He grabbed your chin and turned your head back, his hot breath slipped through your lips before his tongue and he hummed. He kissed you hungrily and pulled his hand back to grab your shirt. He shoved it up your torso and his fingertips danced over your skin.

He parted from your lips and sat up. He tugged at the hoodie and lifted you. He pushed his legs around you and pushed the sleeves down your arms. He untangled you from the sweater and yanked on the tee until you raised your arms. He pulled that off too and flung it.

He drew you further into his lap and laid back on the couch. His fingers hooked under the elastic of the sweats and he pulled until you were forced to raise your pelvis. You shook as you got to your knees and looked down at him.

“You can stop…”

“I don’t want to,” he said and tugged, “up.’

You stood and your pants were ripped to your ankles as he kept hold of them. You lifted one foot then the other as he pulled off your socks and the sweats. They fell to the floor with the rest and he grasped your calves.

“Sit,” he patted the top of his chest with one hand.

You stared down at him and gulped. He slipped down on the couch and his eyes lingered between your legs. He squeezed the back of your leg.

“Sit,” he repeated darkly.

You bent and gripped the arm of the couch. You put a knee beside his head and then the other. He grabbed your hips and guided you down until you felt his breath on your cunt. You held yourself up and he pulled you down entirely.

“I bet you taste so good,” his voice was muffled as his breath tickled you, “I bet…”

His tongue made you wince and squeak. His fingertips poked at your hips as he gripped them tighter and he lapped at you from below. You tried to lift yourself but his hold on you was unbreakable. He purred and began to rock your pelvis over him. You felt your core react to him and you quivered as you let out a shattered moan.

He flicked his tongue more eagerly and your chest swelled as a lump rose in your throat. You held your breath as you tried to hide how he affected you. Your thighs tensed around his head and soon it was you moving your hips, not him.

Your mind was a haze as your voice flew out of you and you clung to the arm of the couch. You rode his face without thinking as the stunning sensation drove you on. He delighted in the taste of you and his hand ran up and he scratched down your back.

Your shallow pants turned to frantic mewls and you gritted your teeth as you came violently. You didn’t want it but you couldn’t fight. The months alone, the endless cold, the pure desolation, it all spilled over and burned deep inside of you. He didn’t stop until you were weak and your legs trembled and stilled.

He tilted his head back and licked his lips, “that’s it, baby, wasn’t that nice?”

You looked down at him as he watched from between your legs. You pushed off of him and his hands fell from your back. You climbed off of him and huddled on the far end of the couch as he sat up. He wiped his mouth and stood. You were humiliated at how easily he had you.

You hung your head and when you heard him come close again, he was naked. Your mouth fell open as his dick bobbed before him and you looked away shyly. He grabbed your elbow and pulled until you let him move you again. He led you down onto your stomach across the couch and dragged his fingers over your shoulders, down your back, and along the curve of your ass.

“All those layers, I knew there was something sweet hiding beneath,” he pushed apart your legs and felt your cunt.

He put his knee between yours then brought his other down as he climbed up behind you. He slid back and bent over you as he pushed his dick down between your legs. You tried to close them then tried to wriggle away. His hands settled on your hips and he leaned his weight on you entirely.

“Come on,” he lifted your ass slightly and rescinded a hand, he angled his tip along your cunt, “that’s it.”

He pushed into you, just an inch and you clawed the arm of the couch. You groaned as he sank deeper and pulled you back onto him. He spread his thighs over yours and placed his hands on the cushion around you. He eased out of you and slammed back in, the sound deafening in the underground room.

“Shit,” he moaned, “that’s good.”

You buried your face on the couch and crossed your arms over your head. He thrust again and you whined. He did it a third time and each tilt of his hips was followed by a pause as he basked in the feel of you. 

His flesh clapped against yours and the sound made you both sick and excited. Your mind felt trapped in your body as he used you, fucking you faster as he felt your natural response. The wet noises fed his lust and soon the whole couch shook.

“That’s it, baby, take it,” he snarled as he pushed down between your shoulder blades with one hand and the other lifted your hip as he lifted himself on his knees, “take it.”

His hand snaked up under your neck and he gripped your chin and forced your head up. Your back curved as he pounded you mercilessly. Your eyes rolled back and your tongue threatened to loll out. You moaned and his motion turned fractured and frantic. He jerked into you harshly and jolted your body with each crash of his hips.

“Ah, baby, I’m cumming,” he rasped and quaked as he burst inside of you.

He slowed down and stopped entirely. He straddled you still and when his breath steadied, he wiggled his hips until you squirmed. He chuckled and rubbed your back. He gasped as he pulled out of you and the cum spilled down the crease of your leg. He groped your ass and kneaded it with a growl.

“Get up,” he ordered as he stroked his softening dick, “put your hands on the couch.”

You got up, barely, numb and shaking, and turned to bend and press your palms to the cushion. He caught your hips before your legs could collapse under you.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, baby,” he cooed, “don’t you feel so good?”

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch.11

I gave zero fucks this chapter. I promise I'll make up for it in the next one.

---

    Marinette stared down at her cell phone with a blank look, before she took in a deep breath, raising her gaze to Bruce, who was sitting across the table from her. She and the Waynes were seating in the dining hall, with the kwami from the Miraculous box flying around, exploring everything they could get their tiny hands on.

    “Mr. Wayn- um, Bruce? I was thinking, since you said you were going to get the Justice League in on the entire Paris situation, I want my team in on it too.” Marinette said firmly as Alfred set down a delicate china cup in front of her, filled with fragrant, flowery tea. 

    “You have a team? I thought you just had the pervy cat.” Jason rose a brow, his hand clenched tight around a mug of coffee. He had been tense ever since they had returned to the manor without Eva, but was holding himself together rather well. 

    “Oh, I have three other members in my team. Queen Bee, Viperion, and Ryuko.” Marinette sipped the tea, then hummed in approval. She motioned to Wayzz, who made his way down and indulged himself in some of the tea as well. “They are keeping Paris safe while I’m away. I find it odd, from what they’ve told me there has been no akuma attacks in the city since I left.”

    “Maybe the crazy butterfly man is taking a holiday?” Tim snorted as he downed his coffee as well, ignoring a glare from Damian. “Or maybe he left the country?”

    “Angel, are you sure Paris would be safe if you brought your team here and left the city unattended?” Damian reached over and gently took her hand, lacing their fingers gently. He smiled at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I just mean that, I wouldn’t want anyone hurt.”

    “I’m sure. A lot of things need to be done now, thanks to all that’s happened.” Marinette got to her feet, a determined look on her face, her blue eyes sparking with a fierceness. “I need to find Hawkmoth, I need a stable team and I just want this all over. I mean, first I need to find a new Black Cat holder, then I need to introduce Lady Vixen to the team, and hopefully Alya won’t be akumatized, and-”

    “Miss Marinette.” Alfred quieted her by setting a hand on her shoulder when he noticed the girl had begun to tremble. The older gentleman gave her a kind smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “There is no need to fret for now. Just take a deep breath, your parents are on a flight over here, remember? They are due to arrive in a few hours, perhaps you should just take some time to collect yourself? You were just faced through many traumatic incidents in only a short week, so I suggest just laying low for at least a day?”

    “Alfred’s right. If you get too worked up right now, you’re going to overexert yourself, maybe even make rash decisions.” Bruce gave the girl a kind smile, then after a moment of silence, he nodded. “But once your parents are here and settled, you can bring your team here without issue, then we can contact the League. Hawkmoth has tormented Paris long enough and he needs to be dealt with before it gets too far out of control.”

    Marinette visibly relaxed, but then tensed when she heard the sound of someone running. Evangeline appeared in the doorway, clutching the Fox miraculous tightly in her hand and seeming visibly shaking.

    “Eva, what happened, are you okay?” Marinette took a step towards her, but Eva held a hand up, stopping her in her tracks. “Eva?”

    Evangeline was quiet as she went over and embraced Jason tightly, buried her face in his chest and trembled. Jason held her close, concern flickering across his features before he led her out of the room before anyone could say a word.

    Marinette stared after them before she hugged herself tightly. What on earth had happened?

    …

    When Marinette’s parents arrived and rushed to embrace her, the young girl let loose the tears she had been holding in. She wept and sobbed in her mother’s embrace, while her father talked quietly with Bruce, thanking the man for paying for their tickets to get to Gotham.

    “Well I know she would have wanted her family with her after facing such an experience. And the two of you must have been worried sick when you heard that Marinette had gone missing.” Bruce shook Tom’s hand, exchanging a look with Damian as a confused look crossed the parents’ faces.

    “We were never informed. We only heard about it when you called us, Mr. Wayne.” Sabine admitted, fury brimming at the edge of her tone as she spoke. She held her daughter tighter as realization settled in. “We had never been told about the incident with the other villain either.”

    “I-I’m so sorry, Mama, I should have called, I’m so so sorry..” Marinette hiccuped as she tried to wipe away her tears, her nose and eyes red from crying.

    “You mean to tell me Caline never called you? She never once informed anyone of what happened in Gotham?” Evangeline, in a much better state now, looked ready to take something heavy and go beat up one Miss Caline Bustier. “She should have called you the moment she realized Marinette was missing! The moment she knew that your daughter was being held captive with a gun to her head! Tom, Sabine, I’m sorry that I didn’t call.”

    “That’s enough, both of you” Sabine’s firm tone made any more apologies die off both ladies’ lips. “What matters is that Marinette is safe and that horrible boy is in jail. Honestly, I hope his foolish father doesn’t try to turn this around on her.”

    “Knowing Gabriel Agreste, he’ll get his secretary to handle everything while he stays back in his mansion and cries about his missing wife.” Eva commented dryly, crossing her arms and grinning when she heard a giggle leave Marinette’s lips. “Okay, enough of this sappy stuff. I am starving and I think we’ve all cried enough for one day. No one is dead, so let’s get some dinner and talk about our course of action from here, such as getting Marinette home.”

    “But the Wayne Gala!” Marinette blurted out the words before she could stop herself. She suddenly looked sheepish at all of the stares being sent her way, and shifted uncomfortably. “I-it’s in a few days and I was really looking forward to attending. Please? I made Eva and I dresses and everything.”

    “I don’t know…” Tom’s brow furrowed as he didn’t quite grasp why his daughter didn’t want to leave the city where she had faced such horrible things. But when he caught sight of how one of the Wayne boys and his daughter were looking at each other, it clicked, it was the same look he always gave Sabine. The two of them were in love, even if they didn’t realize it yet. “Well… One or two days couldn’t hurt, but afterwards we’re going straight home and contacting the school board about this entire incident. It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if your teacher had been more careful.”

    There were many hums of agreement and Marinette hugged her father tightly, squealing in excitement. She’d get the dream night, one last perfect night with Damian before she had to go home to Paris and deal with the headache that is her class and the torment that is one Lila Rossi.

…

Gabriel frowned as he entered the filthy, disgusting Gotham police station with Natalie. This is why he hated going out in public, people were so disgusting, so sloppy and uncouth. He had to get his son out of here before they all corrupted him.

"Pardon me." Natalie stepped forward towards the reception desk, her face a perfect blank slate as she gazed the woman at the desk now. "We are here to take Adrien Agreste home."

"Are you his legal guardian?" The woman behind the glass rose a brow, before Gabriel stepped forward and showed his ID. The receptionist nodded and pushed a button on the com. "Commissioner, Adrien Agreste's legal guardians are here."

Gabriel felt an irk of irritation as a gruff looking cop stepped through the doors, eyeing the duo before holding out his hand.

"Commissioner Gordon. I take it you're Gabriel Agreste? Sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances." Gordon kept his hand held out, but when he got none in return, he dropped his hand and guided the man back towards the cells, where Adrien was being kept. 

Adrien was found curled up in a corner, looking dazed, his left cheek covered in scratches from Lady Vixen's sharp claws.

"Son, what have you done this time?" Gabriel stepped forward, barely hidden fury being heard in his tone. Adrien raised his gaze and met his father's, allowing Gabriel to see the madness in his eyes.

"Father, I had my Miraculous taken away."

…

Marinette sighed as she stepped into the library and saw Eva sitting in one of the comfy chairs, staring down at her Miraculous with Trixx on her shoulder.

"Evangeline, what happened today?" Marinette stepped forward and nearly froze when Trixx's and Eva's eyes snapped up, both pairs of eyes the same shade of unearthly purple.

"I don't deserve this Miraculous." Eva blurted out, moving to unclasp the necklace, but Marinette quickly moved to stop her, her gut clenching at the sight of the shakiness in Eva's eyes. "Marinette, I'm a loose cannon, I attacked Adrien so easily, I-"

"Why did you, though? I've seen you angry, but never so ready to cause physical harm like that. I mean, it was so out of left field for you." She hugged her friend, giving her back a few gentle pats.

"... My ex boyfriend said the same thing to me. I was trapped because he had me in this horrible abusive relationship and I didn't ever leave because… Because he kept threatening to kill himself." Eva stared down at her trembling hands, before letting out a shaky whimper. "One day I did. And as I was shoving my bags into my car, he came out of the house with a gun. He called me name, put the barrel in his mouth, and-"

Marinette didn't need to know the rest.

"But I saw a therapist and I worked through that shit. He did that to hurt me, to spite me. It wasn't my fault, he would have done anything to control me or to hurt me. So that's why I'm so adamant on you seeing a therapist, sugar cookie." Eva took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault, Adrien was bound to do this because no one ever told him no, no one ever taught him right. Yes, like Plagg explained, the Miraculous may have corrupted him, but that shouldn't excuse him from what he did."

Marinette was quiet for a long time, trying to digest those words as she left the library, allowing Trixx to talk to her newfound kit in peace.

Marinette wandered the halls of Wayne Manor, her mind just… Gone. Off trying to process all that had happened to her in only a few days. When she finally came out of her senses, she found herself standing in front of Damian's bedroom door. With a small smile, she knocked.

Damian answered the door, his eyes lit with concern as soon as he realized who it was. But before he could get a word out, Marinette reached up and pulled him down for a soft kiss.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for respecting me." 

"Angel, where did this come from?" Damian let out a surprised laugh as he gathered Marinette close, giving her forehead a soft kiss.

"Today just made me realize that if you find shut that treats you right, you should never let him go." Mari shrugged and smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

Tim, who decided to exit his bedroom just at that very moment, made a gagging noise and went off to discuss with his brothers that he needed to stop coming across random make out sessions. It was getting utterly ridiculous.

…

Marinette set the Miraculous box down on the coffee table, as the Wayne family watched. She pulled out what looked like a pair of glasses, and smiled as Kaalki gave her a muzzle, then opened up a portal.

Out of the portal stepped Chloé Bourgeois, Luka Couffaine, and Kagami Tsurugi. The trio brightened at the sight of Marinette and rushed forward, old friends hugging onto each other for dear life.

"Are you sure the League will listen this time?" Kagami took a step back, wearily eyeing Bruce Wayne. "They've been ignoring our calls for years."

"They'll listen, we'll make them listen if it's the last thing we do." Marinette said firmly.

Soon the entire team was down in the Bat cave, facing the monitor. Ladybug stood with Ryuko, Queen Bee, Viperion, and Lady Vixen as the Justice League came onto the screen.

She forced a smile as she introduced herself, and fought back tears as she thought of the partner that would never be introduced.

If only she had been stronger, she could have saved him.

Taglist: @realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea

[trashystar420]

CHAPTER4 Age Reversed, Babysitter AU MariBat!!!

Marinette was swamped for the rest of the week. It wasn’t easy being a young fashion designer trying to make ends meet because she wasn’t getting paid enough for her internship (yes she miraculously gets paid, but like not enough). But after getting her first pay check from that baby sitting gig, she realized very quickly how much time she can salvage if she were to live off the payment from Mr.Way-er-Bruce

“Finally came to your senses?” Tikki asked with a cheeky grin. Marinette rolled her eyes and gave the kwami another macaroon.

“Why do you always have to be right?” She asked and the goddess had the audacity to giggle.

“I’ve lived much longer than you, I know how this world works honey you got nothing on this spectacle of wisdom.”

“Spectacle of making herself look like a fool more like it” she muttered to herself.Tikki just ate her macaroon.

“Ugh well, guess I better get the day started.” And up she went to do her daily morning routine.

After making sure all the magical barriers were in place, she mentally checked to see if the kwamis she summoned were ready.

“Ready!” Tikki said

“Ready!” Said Kalki

“You know it!!!” Said Trixx

“Of course Marinette” wayzz answered.

“Alright. Let’s go, keep me updated if anything suspicious happens.” As the three kwami’s flew out. Tikki quickly flew in her jacket pocket. Marinette makes her way down to the place she works as an intern.

...

...

...

“Master Tim, perhaps you should lay off the coffee?” Alfred suggested. The butler was convinced if he drank anymore, he would die from overdose. Tim just gave Alfred a crazed look.

More crashing noises came from the living room. Alfred sighs and pinched the bridge of his nose, while Tim drank another mug.

“Perhaps tea would be a better alternative?” The butler offered. Tim didn’t even acknowledge the butler. The only response he gave were more ‘sipping’ noises. Then that got interrupted.

“TODD! PUT DOWN THE -GAH!-DIE SCUM!!!!”

“That’s what you get for being mean to our Marinette!!!” Dick reasoned, as he push Damien down the fancy stairs.

“Yeah Dickie I’m soo proud of you!!!” Jason hugged his baby bro, messing with his hair. The troublesome duo looked to see their work. Damien was lying on the floor completely owned.

“Let’s leave before Demon Spawn tries to kill us again.” Jason offers and Dick eagerly agrees, holding Jason’s hand as the older of the two led him to his room.

“You really shouldn’t be insulting the babysitter with those two around.” Tim advises, sipping his third cup of coffee that morning. Eventually the eldest brother got up, limping on his leg.

“They are so dead” he promised. Tim just sipped more of his coffee.

“Don’t let Bruce hear you say that Demon Spawn.” Damien just gave him a withering glare, but Tim didn’t falter. Eventually the caffeine addict left the mansion to start his work at Wayne Enterprise. Damien stayed at home to treat his wounds after Alfreds nagging persistence.

As Alfred was treating the injured Wayne, Damien started to grumble.

“What seems to trouble you, Master Damien?” He asked. Damien looked away, almost ashamed.

“That babysitter...” he grumbled.

“You mean the one from yesterday?” Alfred clarifies.

“Who else?” He menacingly spoke. Alfred was unaffected by the young lad’s tone.

“Well what of her? I think she is a nice young lady with a good head on her shoulders.” Damien ‘tsked’ clearly upset. Alfred, already having a pretty good idea why the boy was upset, sighed.

“What about Marinette do you not like Master Damien?”

“She is clearly a witch if she managed to have those fools become her lap dogs.” He reasoned as though it were the most obvious thing. The butler resisted the urge to sigh.

“Surely you jest, Master Damien”

The butler finished wrapping the last bandage over a rather nasty cut.

“I’m going to investigate that witch, she is clearly hiding something.” Alfred looked scandalized.

“You will do no such thing Master!!” But Damien with a goal in mind marched towards the bat cave. Alfred sighed and immediately called Bruce to relay him the news of what was going on.

...

...

...

“Good evening Marinette” Alfred greeted the babysitter.

“And good evening to you Alfred.”she responded in kind.

“I see you brought another box of baked goods?” He asked.

“Haha yes, the boys really liked them you know.” She giggled.

“Allow me to show you inside, please take a seat, I will be right back with the master and kids.” The butler walked a bit faster to get the Wayne’s.

When Alfred walked in the bat cave, it was already a mess. Bruce looked stressed as usual. Damien was glaring daggers at a stubborn Jason and Dick. And Tim looked ready to pass out. The butler coughed, interrupting the mood.

“Is she here?” Bruce asked a little too hopeful. Alfred nodded.

“Is Mari here?” Dick asked and Bruce smiled.

“Make sure you change before meeting her. We don’t want to reveal ourselves.” He warned as Jason and Dick immediately changed out of their outfits and bolted to meet their babysitter. Alfred was smiling at how normal those two were acting.

“Alright Damien, let me be clear here, I have already done a background check with her, she is in the clear. I don’t want you snooping into her personal life, got it?” The bat warned, Damien pouted and looked away. Bruce heaved another sigh and looked at Tim, whose head rested on the table.

“Tim” that woke the teen up.

“Go get some rest.” Tim reluctantly agrees and left the bat-cave as well. Bruce gives a hard glare to his eldest son. Damien looks back with a stubborn glare.

“Damien.” He growls. Said boy just caves in.

“If you insist, Father.” He sighed. Bruce got up from the table and left. Alfred gave one last look to the ex-assassin, then went after Bruce.

When the coast was clear, Damien went to the monitor, and pulled up a file he made sure was hidden from his family. A picture of said babysitter was in display. An innocent, younger version of Marinette with her signature pigtails.

“Just what are you hiding, Marinette Dupain-Cheng” he muttered to himself, as he pulled up a documented report, and read it.

All completely unaware of a certain kwami’s eyes.

...

...

...

“Thz iz irrly gooz!!” Jason compliments as he stuffs his face with more macaroons. Dick tugged at the sleeve of his babysitter.

“Yes Mon Chou?” Dick twiddled his fingers, and blushed.

“I-I was wondering if you could tell us that bed time story you told Jason last time.” He asked. Mari swooned and scooped him up in a hug.

“Yes I would love to sweetie.” Jason also looked eager.

“Hell yeah!!!”

“What did we talk about young man.”

“No swearing like a sailor.” Mari giggled. She couldn’t help herself, she pinched the cheek of the cheeky one and kissed his forehead.

“Alright , everyone settled?” Eager nods were given. Before the Bluenette started, Tim walked down the stairs.

“Hey what’s going on here?” He asked. Marinette noticed the bags under the tired Wayne’s eyes. Jason looked peeved, while Dick had a sparkle in his eyes.

“Mari is telling us a bed time story!!!” Tim gave a look to Marinette, as she gave a sheepish smile and shrugged.

“You know what, can I join?” He asked. The boys made room for the older boy. Marinette stood as she begun to tell the tale.

“ once upon a time, there lived a young girl.

She lived in a village that suffered at the hands of a cruel beast.

What made the beast so cruel was his ability to curse someone for one night, and turn them into a monster. Due to the terror these curses cause for the people, everyone in the village suffered.

But there was nothing they could do, for the monsters would go on into the night, seemingly with no end.

But a miracle blessed the villagers. A goddess, who granted the power needed to end the nightly terrors. And she gifted it to the girl. But the power came at a cost.

‘No one is supposed to know you are their savior, otherwise your powers will vanish forever, and the nightly terrors shall persist.’

So the girl kept it to herself. It wasn’t bad, at first. She just kept going throughout the day with a smile, always eager to help.

And then....

A mischievous fox happened upon the village.

What made this fox so mischievous, were the lies she spoke. Tales of her ‘grand’ life. Making bold claims that she knew all the gods and goddesses.

That she could help eradicate the beast that haunts the night.

How she was best friends with the savior of the night.

And the girl with a smile on her face heard. Never believing for a second that what the fox said to be true.

She pleaded with her friends

‘Please you mustn’t listen to that fox, she speaks nothing but lies!’

But it was too late. The trap was set, and her friends fell for the fox’s lies. Eventually the fox confronted the girl, threatened to turn all that she loved against her. Hate her. Banish her.

And the naive girl never believed the fox for a second. Until it did.

Slowly but surely, lie after lie, the fox made good on her promise.

And now the girl who sacrificed herself everyday for the foolish villagers, found herself alone.

Gone were the days were she could smile.

Gone was her laughter.

Her spark fades every night.

Seeking the goddess who gave her the power to protect, all the goddess could do was shake her head.

For if she broke the vow that she was protecting everyone, she would lose her powers. And the village would be thrown into disarray once more.

And so, hiding her pain with a smile, she continued on.

Eventually she found the beasts lair and destroyed the terror or the night. And since the girl couldn’t find a home within the village she was raised in, left to make her own home.

No one from the village heard from the girl they all betrayed ever again.

Some say she lives in the mountains. Others say she resides by the beaches.

But no matter where you go, be kind to everyone you meet. You don’t know their life story. For they may also suffer just as much, if not more.”

Marinette finished. She found a tearful Dick, and immediately pulled him into a hug.

“Dawww Dickie.” She cooed reassuringly. But Dick his his face in her chest.

“Tha-that’s so sad! How could -the *hic* villagers *hic* be so cruel!!!!” He bemoaned. Jason wasn’t doing much better either, for his eyes were glazed. It looked as though were about to cry but didn’t want to.

“Oh Jason, come here.” And motioned for him to enter the hug. Which he did. And also cried about how the girl deserved to be happy.

“Now guys, please, let’s keep our voices down, look.” Their babysitter pointed to a sleeping Tim.

“Oh wow.” Dick mumbled. Jason could only nod. It was rare seeing their older brother sleep.

“Here, why don’t you two help me put your brother to bed” and so the two dutifully helped. Marinette picked up the teen with surprising ease.

“Is he supposed to be this light?” She whispered to Jason. The boy only shrugs.

Marinette ticks him in bed, and closes the door quietly. Dick and Jason walk back down the stairs with their babysitter. And then Dick yawns. Marinette checks the time.

“Oh wow, it’s already this late?” Jason looked dejected, while Dick had a hard time standing, so the bluenette picks him up as well.

“Come on Jay-Jay time to put you to bed as well. Jason reluctantly went as well.

Marinette gently placed the sleeping boy in his bed, and tucked him in. Then gave him a kiss on the forehead, and left.

“Hey Pixie-Bob, I know I should be in bed, but can I at least play against you once? I promise I’ll go to bed afterwards.” As he gave his best puppy dog eyes.

She held out a pinkie finger. Jason blinked.

“Promise. No complaints. No ifs no buts. After this one game, you are heading straight to bed. Alright?” Jason nodded.

“You got it pixie-bob!”as he gave her his pinkie. They both shook on it.

Marinette beats him yet again. And Jason doesn’t complain. He heads straight to bed, is tucked in by Marinette and is also given a kiss on the forehead, similar to Dick’s.

The young babysitter descends the fancy steps in thought. Holding onto the railing so that she wouldn’t fall.

‘Anything suspicious?’ Mari mentally asked to her kwamis.

‘Nope’ said Tikki

‘Nothing’ Kalkki said

‘All clear’ spoke Wayzz.

‘Trixx?’ Mari asked again. This time in fear.

‘Trixx please answer me what is wrong, did you get captured?!?!’

The other kwamis came from their respective hiding spots as well, also worried for their dear friend.

‘Sorry sorry, I got caught up in something. Uh. Marinette you might want to hear this once we get back home.’ Trixx warned. Marinette did NOT like that. Making sure the miraculous she wore are where they are supposed to be, she summons for Trixx, and the kwami still has not arrived. Marinette is getting anxious. She is supposed to be leaving, but she can’t leave Trixx all alone!!!!

‘Trixx where are you I’m going to come get you!’

‘Wait don’t!’

‘Trixx what the heck are you doing? Why won’t you let me track you?’

‘I seemed to have been caught in something...’Trixx said.

Marinette feels her nerves spike up tenfold.

‘That’s it I’m tracking you now! Just wait where you are I am coming to get you.’ Marinette follows the magic resonance left by the kwami.

[yikeswtfmate]

Strange Times || Ch. 3

previous part // Strange Times Series Masterlist // next part

Summary: Ray does some thinking. These new revelations are bad news, but maybe he can work around them, until he can’t anymore.

Pairing: Raymond (Charlie Hunnam - The Gentlemen, 2020) x Reader

Warnings: swearing; sexual references and themes; some sadness

A/N: this has been a whirlwind and i’m probably going to take a short break from this fic; i’ve barely scratched this part together so i might need more time to come up with the next part, especially because of what i have in mind for it; i really don’t want to write it just for the sake of it and then be unhappy with how it turned out, so please be patient with me! until then... here’s part 3

A/N 2: should i make a masterlist for this series? i made a moodboard for it this week just bc i was bored so might as well? let me know!

It’s been almost a month and Raymond can’t yet say whether Y/N’s pulling his leg or his skills are starting to fail him, because there is no other explanation for her completely falling off the face of the earth for hours on end without him knowing anything about it. When she told him so nonchalantly about her plans that first night, he expected he’d be able to track her every movement without too much fuss. Y/N Pearson, however, is a woman of many talents, so he was forced to finally admit that she was right in warning him not to underestimate her.

It’s not to say that it’s because of lack of trying – he’s had David tail her Uber for a few days but she somehow managed to slip away, only to pop back up in Oxford exactly the second Mickey started handing him his ass because she was nowhere to be found until midnight. Then he tried tracking her phone, just to find out that she’s been leaving her phone on the coffee table every day, although Rosalind somehow always knew how to get in touch with her (whether she’d let Mickey and Raymond know where Y/N was, was a completely other story). Finally, he decided he’ll just tail her himself, but that backfired when he followed her into a nursery store without too much preamble.

Trying to find his bearings, thoroughly confused as to why she’d enter this shop, suddenly horrified she might be pregnant with a fucking cunt, whoever this fucker is he’ll find his death today, he was startled by a hand slipping on his arm, bringing him flush against her small body. Looking down, he couldn’t help wondering what the fuck she was on about now, smiling innocently at the approaching shop assistant and completely ignoring him.

“Hi, darling!” She thrilled in the most obnoxious voice he’s ever heard. “My hubby and I are expecting this tiny wonder that’s growing inside of me, and we’d like to look at some cute little tiny clothes for this amazing bundle of joy that will grace our lives!”

To say that Raymond never felt more terrified in his entire existence should say something, considering he has three older sisters who each had the right mind to think he was actually their little puppet throughout his entire childhood. Three hours later, after listening to more coos than he’d care to ever experience again and now knowing how much every single stroller in the Kingdom fucking costs, Y/N escorted him outside (still latched like a fucking octopus to his arm, never having let go) and turned to him with another blinding smile that would be more fitting for a snake? Fox? Fucking Loch Ness monster? He’d take anything over her at that moment.

“What the fuck.” He doesn’t even have the energy to try to appear more threatening.

“What, babe? I thought you wanted to know what I’m doing all day. Isn’t that why you and Mickey have been freaking out? That I’m being naughty and doing unspeakable things? I just showed you that I’m being a good girl.”

He looks at her for a moment, his jaw set. Maybe one of these days he’ll just break his bottom teeth from all the tongue biting and teeth grinding he does whenever she opens her mouth. There’s a small part of his brain that lets him know it’d be great to get back at her by spanking her ass until it’s bright red, but he pushes the thought aside and just turns around and starts walking away.

“Hey!” She yells, heels clicking rapidly on the pavement until she’s in step with him again. “What the fuck, Ray? You can’t just up and leave!”

“I can and I am. I’m not putting up with your shit anymore, love. You’re Mickey’s responsibility, not mine, so you can do whatever the fuck you want for all I care.”

“Aw, Ray! Come on, babe, you don’t mean that!”

She grabs his hand, forcing him to stop and look at her. Disregarding the fact that they’re in the middle of a very busy shopping centre and everyone has to get around them, Y/N swings their interlocked hands between them, nearly making Ray think she’s a sweet angel. It’s easy to forget she’s been keeping him on his toes from the moment she stepped foot on British soil, when she looks up at him through her eyelashes, a small smile on her lips, almost – but not entirely apologetic.

He sighs and hangs his head. She will be the death of him, but apparently he has no control whatsoever over his body or feelings anymore, and with an arm around her shoulders, Ray brings her into him and directs her back in the direction of their house. (Their house? Since when did he start thinking of his own house as theirs?) He just wants to go home and maybe erase this whole encounter with something strong to drink.

He’s not even aware they’re holding hands until they are forced to split by an errant toddler. He notices how she smiles over at the little pig-tailed girl, a softness in her eyes that is surprising in a way that strangely warms his own heart. She takes his hand again, interlacing their fingers on reflex, unaware of Ray’s slow blink in her direction. He’s thoroughly enjoying her little display of affection, having more or less been subconsciously craving them ever since she first kissed him.

There’s a flutter in his heart, a missed beat that makes him question this whole thing with Y/N. He’s more than aware that she pisses him right the fuck off, but he can’t help but miss her presence and erratic personality the whole time she’s not with him. One month, and she’s already clawed her way in, gnashing unintentionally at the veins around his heart, until she’s found her way in. With a start, he realises that above all the dirty thoughts he’s had, all the images of her bent form before him, he wants to protect her, keep her safe, tuck her under his arm and kiss her head.

He realises now that whenever he steps down into the kitchen to find Y/N making coffee, still dressed in one of his t-shirts (having been seemingly diving into his wardrobe on a regular basis), bed hair sticking out, eyes half closed, smelling like she’s still dreaming, his heart swells. She would hand him his mug and with her own in her hand, she would trudge her feet behind, peck his cheek and stroke his jaw on her way up to her morning shower. And now, he doesn’t want anything else, but that. That moment to keep happening, every morning, every day for the rest of his life and what in the name of Jesus, Joseph and Mary, what the fuck!

*

“I’m home!” Raymond announces as he steps into the house. For a split second he’s surprised once again at the words he’s just uttered, unsure about how to feel knowing that Y/N is still currently living under the same roof as him.

He was comfortable in his life, alone and uncommitted, sure that he would never find anyone who would understand the sort of existence he’s leading, until Y/N barged into his life guns blazing and fucking up whatever sense of security he had until now. Not to mention that understanding earlier in the week that his feelings for her developed so high as to shoot the fucking moon did nothing to alleviate his irritation with her. If anything, it’s gotten worse, especially since she’d become even more secretive lately, until he snapped at her in the morning before she left with a final slam of the front door.

He doesn’t want to get into another fight with her, not in the mood for another shouting match where he’d try to pry out whatever the fuck she’s been doing. He’s tired of her keeping him at an arm’s distance, but doesn’t want to admit that he’s hurt by her not trusting him enough to confide in him. A tiny voice in his head points out that he hasn’t been truthful with her either – hiding his own feelings can only show he’s a coward, but he waves that away. All in good time, he’s not in a hurry, although the thought of Mickey finding out does more than put him off the whole ordeal.

“Got you that ice cream you kept going on about like a bloody lunatic yesterday!” He shouts, trying to distract himself from the dark thoughts that swirl into his mind.

There’s no response and the house feels empty, cold, desolate. An icy shiver runs through his spine, worst case scenarios running before his eyes. He’s left Y/N at home, having just stepped in when he went out to buy some groceries. He declined her offer of joining him when he saw how tired she looked, but now he fears it was a mistake.

He takes out the gun from its holster, slowly moving around the hallway and now that he’s closer to the back of the house, he can hear a small tune playing from the living room. He steps carefully around that particular creaky floorboard and inspects the space which seems clear. It’s only when he stands next to the kitchen island, that he sees Y/N’s head over the sofa. She’s sitting on the floor, next to the vinyl recorder, chin on her knees, hair falling around her body, as if she’s surrounded by a halo.

Raymond lowers his gun, places it on the kitchen counter, but is unsure what he should do next. This is unprecedented, having never seen Y/N this small before, shoulders hunched over as if in defeat. He makes up his mind, and sits himself on the floor next to her, back to the sofa, close enough that she can touch him if she so wants, but far enough to retreat if she wants to be left alone.

“This was my grandpa’s favourite song.” She murmurs.

She places her cheek on her knee, a movement small enough to allow him to look at her. He notices the tear stains on her face and there’s nothing he wouldn’t want to do more in that moment than to just brush his thumbs under her eyes and kiss her forehead. In time with the lyrics, she starts whispering the words, silently asking him to pay attention. He realises this is important to her, so he rests his head on the sofa and closes his eyes. He vaguely remembers buying this particular vinyl in a dingy shop, thinking it’s one of the most beautiful love songs he’s ever heard.

There’s a shift and Y/N crawls between his legs, curling in on herself on his chest. He raises his arms, placing one around her waist and another one to brush her hair. One of her palms rests on his bicep, drawing slow circles into the soft sweater, and she continues to murmur the song.

Raymond keeps his eyes closed, waiting for her to speak, revelling in the feeling of her skin. Her hair is soft and smells like vanilla, mixing in with the undertone of her cinnamon shower gel, and he wonders whether there is anything sweeter in this entire world than to hold her in his arms.

Rosalind warned him that there’s more to Y/N than the trouble she likes to stir, more than the reckless girl who lunges herself into aristocratic gossip and shitty remarks intended to shock. He’s used by now to the brash personality, peppered with unabashed flirtations and caustic curses, the brilliance of her mind whenever they debate an important subject, the vast knowledge that she still surprises him with. But this is never something he would have expected her to be. This mellow and sad part of her that she’s been hiding so well is the entire galaxy in his eyes, confusing him to no end as to why she would show it to him. She trusts you, Raymond, Rosalind’s words echo in his mind, going against all he thought he knew about her. She’ll never say it, but she’ll show you.

He kisses her temple then, a smile on his lips, but he wants to take her pain away. He wants to stop the tears from falling, although he’s not entirely sure what caused them in the first place. She looks up at him, eyes searching his face, and she kisses his jaw tentatively. It tickles her lips so she licks them, but Raymond stops her in her tracks when he kisses her cheek softly. He doesn’t move back, waiting for her reaction and there’s a question there, behind her pupils, blown wide, unsure and afraid. She moves her face closer until her breath fans over hips lips, and her body turns over his, and now they’re chest to chest. He brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, thumb caressing the side of her neck. She leans into the touch that now moves up to her cheek, and her head rests in his palm now. She opens her eyes again, waiting, asking, hoping.

This is it, he thinks. This is enough and he gives in. Raymond kisses her then, the sweet scent of chocolate on her tongue, tentatively at first, capturing her lips in a dance that he dreamed of having – it’s different, softer, more meaningful than the rough kiss they’ve already shared. Lavishing her, hands move into his hair, while pulling and sucking at his lips. She shifts again, straddling his hips, leaning into him so he moves an arm on her waist to steady her. She moans into his mouth, the sweetest melody covering his veins and there’s fire in his lungs that spreads around his entire body. They come up for air and he peppers kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her nose, while she places her palms flat on his chest. Her forehead rests on his and there’s a moment where they just breathe each other’s air.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” She whispers.

“We both know I have to bruise your ego from time to time so you can come back to reality.”

“You’re too good for me, Raymond.”

He brushes a hand over the side of her head, taming her hair after his ministrations. She leans into his touch again, filling his heart with affection.

“I’m really not, love. I’m too fucked up to ever be good enough, nevermind too good.” He smiles. “And speaking of fucked up, your brother is going to kill us if he finds out about this.”

“Well, that’s a sobering thought. Please, never speak of Mickey when we’re in this position, ok?” She chides, rubbing her hips into his to emphasise her point, which earns her a surprising whine in return. “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

“The floor is really not the place to be doing this, babe.” He grunts, as she starts sucking and licking at his neck.

His arms find their way to her hips again, forcing her down, trying to create as much friction as possible. There’s an uncomfortable strain to his jeans, and his cock is suddenly even more alert and asking for attention. His unspoken plea is clearly understood and with a giggle, her hands fly to his belt buckle, tugging and loosening. He feels more than sees the zipper opening, fingers creeping under his shirt, leaving a burning trail on his skin. With a grunt, he grabs the back of her neck, bringing her even closer, sucking on her tongue and demanding her own breath. He pulls her sweater off with his free hand while she tries to make good work of removing his jeans.

Raymond warned her that the floor is not fit for this, so he grabs her ass and hoists her up, leaving a trail of jeans, sweaters and shirts behind them as he makes his way to the bedroom, never letting her go. He places Y/N carefully on the bed, intent on making this last, and not rush it into a quick and dirty fuck. He looks at her, splayed before him, red faced and wet lips, such expanse of bared skin just for him. He lowers himself above her, bruising her with another kiss.

“You’re mine now.” He whispers into her lips and she nods, pulling him closer.

Bloody fucking hell, Y/N Pearson will be the death of him.

[marcipancake]

I hate you! ....but not that much

Summary: Miya Atsumu realises how much he loves his boyfriend when it's too late

Warnings: blood, fight, hospitals, open ending

  “I hate you, Miya!” Sakusa panted from the fight, and even the other could feel the tiredness radiating from his form. His eyes were diluted but kept their focus. His voice was cracking all over his shouted sentences, slowly getting hoarse. 

  "I didn't force you to be in a relationship with me, for fuck's sake! If you hate it that much, why don't you just turn your back on me like you do with all your problems and walk away?" Atsumu asked, seeming much more collected than his boyfriend. He wasn’t short on his breath, nor did he care for what left his mouth. 

   "Maybe that's what I should have done from the start. I should have rejected your pathetic ass confession you could barely even say and treat you like the person you are" the spiker grabbed a vase from the coffee table—one that was a gift from his mom—and threw it at Atsumu, who didn’t even try to dodge it. He just let it break on his chest and fall to the ground, not taking his rage-filled eyes off of Sakusa. 

   "What was that? The Almighty Sakusa Kiyoomi feeling sorry for someone? Feeling pity? Or even feeling anything??" Atsumu in return sent a mug flying. It barely missed the targeted head, as Sakusa caught it. And also broke it with a shaky fist. 

   "Me, the Almighty? I'm not the one going around saying how fucking perfect I am and how everyone who is slightly feeling tired or not always giving their 200% can lick dirt and fuck off!" a pair of mole spotted hands took off, and for a moment Atsumu thought he was going to get hit. But instead, Sakusa only grabbed his collar, shaking him by it with every word he spat out. 

   "Because you never go around and you never say anything unless it's to make fun of me or hurt me!" the blonde grabbed onto his hands. They felt ice cold against his hot, burning hands. He took a step forward, forcing the other to retreat, barely not stumbling on his own legs. 

   "Why, how else am I supposed to act? Just stand there and silently endure the way you talk to me?" Sakusa suddenly threw his hands in the air, catching his lover off guard, thus being able to push him to the ground. 

   "Endure? Endure what exactly?” the setter jumped up at this as if nothing had happened. Sakusa raised his hands, maybe in defence, but the other hit them both away, fuming. “Me accumulating to you and changing myself in a way you would maybe like me? Is it that hard the big Sakusa Kiyoomi can't handle?" 

   "So this is all it was about?” a cruel grin appeared on Sakusa’s face, making him look like a distorted version of himself. “Shaping yourself so you would be loved by someone? And what made you pick me? I seemed the easiest target? Or you missing your brother and wanting someone else to replace him in your heart?"

   "At least I have a heart!!"

   Tick. 

   And tock. 

   Breathing in.

   And breathing out. 

   Sakusa let the other go slowly and Atsumu did so, too. He was still filled with rage, but the pair of dark eyes didn't match the fire burning. He stepped away and started his way to the door, only grabbing his keys on the way. 

   "Don't you dare, Kiyoomi! Don't you dare walk out on me like that!" another plate went flying across the room, only to meet its end on the broad back of the spiker, already opening the door. Not even looking back, he walked out. 

   The heavy panting quickly turned into panic in Atsumu's lungs and ran after him after just a second of hesitation. 

   "Don't you come after me. Or that will be the last thing you do" the sharp voice of Sakusa cut both Atsumu's actions and heart in half, stopping him by the doorway as he continued his way to the car in the pouring rain. 

   "You know what? Then don't even come back!" Atsumu shouted back at him, but he didn't seem phased by what he said. He just watched as his boyfriend— was he even still in a relationship with him? —drove away, still panting from all the emotions.  

   He slowly closed the door after himself and collapsed to the floor. He angrily ran his fingers through his already messy hair. 

   "Shit."

   But he couldn't take back what he said. Even if once he did mean them. And now he had to wait it out until Sakusa calmed himself down and—hopefully—came back. 

   As he looked around in the house, it was a mess. And not just the usual mess with clothes all over. No, it was as if a tornado went loose inside, destroying everything in its path. But, Atsumu realised, that's exactly what happened. They started as a small and harmless rain with their usual bantering about some leftover crumbs on the counter. His own quickly angered and kind of a hothead nature that collided with the coldness of Sakusa quickly grew into a heavy storm that went havoc spiralling more and more out of control with every word said—or later shouted. Not even the room could escape something like this. Broken mugs, plates and glasses everywhere, the dining table pushed aside and the dinner from it now on the floor, their pictures poking out from under the broken frames, as if reminding the setter of the happy and carefree past they just shattered. 

   Atsumu tried to stand up to clean up at least a bit, but he slipped on something on the floor. It was a blood wetted piece of cloth. As the setter raised it to take a look at it, he recognised it as being Sakusa's sock. He stepped into a broken plate and took the sock off when the wetness of the blood annoyed him. 

   The voice of him saying 'I hate you, Miya' haunted him even when he managed to get up from the floor. The utmost confidence and hatred that radiated from his words through the whole fight really made Atsumu wonder if he meant any words he said. He only called him Miya on two occasions. When playfully and harmlessly teasing each other or when he was mad. 

   He brought the sock to the bathroom, along with the torn apart pillows and blankets, putting them in the laundry basket. It was almost full. He should also put some clothes to wash… but he had more urgent things to take care of now. At least only the living room and the kitchen was destroyed. 

   Somewhere along the lines, his vision got blurred so much that he couldn't even point out which direction he was facing. As he raised his hands to touch his eyes, fat teardrops met their ends on his shirt, pants and the floor as they raced down on his cheeks. And at this, his vision also cleared. Just enough to be able to make out the broken mug he threw at Sakusa. It had smaller and bigger pieces of it around him. The first-ever really romantic gift he got from the other. The act itself still warmed his heart as he reached down for the biggest part remaining together. On that part was a picture of their hands entangled. The perfectly tended fingers of Atsumu with the long nails he kept short—possibly the only part of him that Sakusa wasn't disgusted by from the get-go—, together with the fragile-looking but firm fingers and bitten down nails of the spiker, dotted by moles he couldn't stop kissing. 

   It all felt so far away by now. Their lovely-dovey nature in their own unique way that started to drive everyone else up the wall seemed like a distant memory. Or rather, a fairy tale. 

   After long hours, Atsumu’s tears have finally come to completely dry out, leaving him gasping for air through frequent hiccups and with hurting eyes and lungs. Upon rising from the ground, his eyes scanned through the apartment in search of his partner, only giving a negative answer. Sakusa's been out for hours by now, and though normally Atsumu wasn't worried when the other was by the wheel, his calming down drive hasn't been this long. And he couldn't even ignore the growing pain of anxiety forming into a bigger and bigger ball of cramps in his upper belly, either. 

   He didn't have time to think about it for long, as soon their landline phone rang, and Atsumu jumped on it as foxes jump headfirst into the snow at the noise of a prey; precisely and deadly. 

   "Omi-kun! Where are yo-"

   But his excited and relieved greeting was cut short, and the setter felt like he received a punch in his guts from a professional boxer. The caller was from a hospital, and Sakusa just got in the emergency room. She called only to inform, but Atsumu didn't need more. He thanked her as fast as he could, and not even bothering to close the door or to dress up, he ran out into the storm, all the way to the hospital. His lungs were burning, his legs on fire, the rapid rain cutting his open skin like knives, but he couldn't care less. 

   Upon arriving, soaking wet and panting as if he’s run a marathon, a nurse guided him to the room, telling him to wait until the doctors came out. Not really having a choice, he sat down. And tried his best not to think. Especially not remembering the pained and almost broken look of Sakusa had in the last moments before he drove off. Or his own rage-filled shape in the reflection of the darkest green eyes that were almost black. How the spiker's hands shook and then came to a halt as if he had a short circuit. In just a matter of seconds, he went from a fiery volcano that demolished everything in its past to the ice caps that though cold, they're also the ones being demolished. All because of a simple sentence he said. It was all his fault. If he didn't overstep the line, Sakusa wouldn't have gone out to drive in rage and he wouldn't be fighting for his life now and-

   The doctors came out. Atsumu stood up alarmed. After a few exchanged words, they informed him of the situation and finally let him inside. He felt weak and unsure to his core, but he went inside. 

   Sakusa looked like a broken machine, laid upon a table to be repaired. Then cold, lifeless colour the lights painted on him only enhanced the ghost-like appearance as it mixed with the now pale complexion of the spiker. As Atsumu looked at him, his skin wasn't that much different in colour from the gauze they wrapped his injuries in. The huge sack that was hanging on his right, with the dim pee coloured liquid that slowly dropped into the tube that connected into his gauzed-over hand to keep the needle in place and the few more infusions that were here and there forced into him didn't make the setter feel relieved even if he should have been. According to the machine, his boyfriend was pretty much alive. And if he wouldn't have seen the state the other was in, it would have been enough for a celebration. But now, the barely visible breath and the other, more silent machine only reinforced in Atsumu what the doctors have already told him. 

   A coma. He entered a coma, and Atsumu was the sheer cause of it. No one told him that, of course, but no one needed to. He knew it deep down even if he didn't want to admit it. And now, not even his twin was there to help him snap out of this or to help him deal with it. Not even the ever-energetic team, not his own boyfriend. He was completely alone to carry the guilt and burden. 

   Atsumu couldn't bear it anymore. He basically collapsed onto the white chair beside the bed. The things he threw at the other, both physical and verbal things, came back to haunt him now. He thought his tears have all dried out, and yet, here he was, burying his face into his hands again. 

   "Fuck!" the setter sobbed through his hands before attempting to wipe his tears away. "Shit, I'm sorry, Omi" he tried again, still as weakly as before, and reached out for his hand. He couldn't really hold onto it because of the pulse oximeter but feeling his hand was enough. Even if said hands were cold, almost as if he was holding a statue. 

    Ah, maybe a statue would be more exact than a machine, Atsumu thought. The lifeless and cold grey that Sakusa's skin now had really did remind the setter of classical greek statues, all of which looked like they could start to move any second. But all he wanted now is for this statue to start moving. To hit him, to shout at him, to break up with him, to start crying, or even just to breathe more regularly. He would have even sold his soul for that if it were possible. 

   “Please, Omi” Atsumu begged again as he carefully brushed on the fragile fingers of his boyfriend, the way he always loved. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean all of what I said. You can just be really annoying. Don’t get me wrong, I am, too! It just-” he took a deep breath to calm his cracking up sobs before he would continue. “It’s been a rough week for the both of us.”

   “Who am I kidding?!” the setter’s other hand gripped onto his own thigh, shaking in frustration. “I shouldn’t have been such an idiot! I should’ve given you your space and- I threw so many bad things, horrible things at you. Can you even forgive me?” he tried to put on a weak smile as his blurred vision wandered onto Sakusa’s face. “I can’t lose you. Please, I swear I’ll do better. I will do it. Just for you. Just please-” at this point, Atsumu gave up in trying to hold his tears back as he choked on his own words. He looked away from the ghost-like face of his love to wipe those annoying tears away before he rose his head back up. 

   “Just please, give me a sign” he begged with a stifled voice. 

   At that moment, the monitor changed.

[atths--twice]

Chapter Two     2/4

December 

Back at work, Scully is feeling overwhelmed. Doggett is there to offer words of comfort.

December 15th 2000

She had been back to work for a week, the days blending together. Nothing interested her and walking away crossed her mind constantly. She could, she had enough money to take care of herself and the baby. She did not need this job… but she did. Needed it like the air in her lungs and the blood in her veins.

She felt him most when she was in the office. There were reminders of him everywhere: a stray sunflower seed in odd places, Post-it‘s with his familiar scroll, a tie shoved into the bottom drawer of the desk, and books he had read and they had discussed.

The files in the many cabinets she guarded like a treasure, not allowing some of them to be investigated, not wanting anyone but Mulder to be the one to do it, knowing how ridiculous that sounded, even in her own head.

She spent a lot of time in the office, Doggett there with her, watching, but remaining silent. When he was gone, she did not know where he went, his whereabouts of no concern to her.

The baby was growing and it was finally obvious to others that she was expecting. She heard their whispers, wondering if it was Mulder’s baby or if she had been impregnated by an alien.

When she heard that the first time, she had made her presence in the elevator known, staring down the man who had dared to say it. He had mumbled an apology and the other passengers kept their eyes on the floor, but she had continued to stare at him until he exited the elevator.

After that, she stayed in the basement as much as possible, away from assholes and their rude comments.

There was a lot of work she could be getting done in the office. However, the thought of doing anything to change the appearance of the room, made her feel anxious and tired.

Instead, she simply sat in Mulder’s office chair, wishing that at any moment the door would open and he would be standing there, airline tickets in hand, ready to chase down some monster in a forest.

But as hard as she wished, as many prayers as she sent up, he would never be there to pull her away to some tiny town in the middle of nowhere. He was gone and she was left to carry on.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up and began to gather her things to go home, needing to leave before she started to cry. The office door opened and her heart stopped for a second, before she saw Doggett walk into the room.

“Agent Scully,” he said, smiling kindly at her. “You leaving already?”

“Yes. I uh…”

“Hey, no need to explain. I understand.”

“Agent Doggett-”

“Agent Scully,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “I understand. You lost someone you cared about. Someone you loved.” She swallowed hard, a lump suddenly taking up residence inside of it. “I know loss. How it takes a hold of you and weighs you down. That grief, that pain… well, if you pardon my bluntness, it really kicks you in the balls sometimes.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and without any warning she began to laugh, something she had not done in a long time. She laughed and then she was sobbing with a hand at her mouth. He sighed with an apology, pulling her to him gently.

She clung to him, unable to stop her tears. He rubbed her back, his touch soothing, but once more, not the one she wanted. Pulling back, he held onto her arms, looking into her eyes and nodding. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the box of tissues on the desk and held them out to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She took another tissue and wiped her eyes again.

“Agent Scully… I don’t want to tell you what to do or how to… Jesus, how to grieve or move on.” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “I just want to make sure you’re ready to be back. I’m not questioning you, just…”

“I appreciate your concern, Agent Doggett, but I… I need to be here. I…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I feel him here. It’s like…” She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I feel like… like being here… it keeps him alive. I know that sounds crazy…”

“No, it doesn’t,” Doggett said softly and she opened her eyes. His blue eyes held such sadness, she knew he truly did. “I understand why you want to be here… I just worry about you.” He glanced down at her stomach and she nodded, wiping at her eyes once again.

“I thank you, but I am… well, not okay, but…” She shrugged and attempted to smile, though she knew she failed.

“Yeah, I gotcha. You go ahead and get going, don’t mind me.” He smiled and she nodded. “You’ll be back Monday?”

“No. Actually I’m off until after the holidays. I just… there is truth to what you’re saying. And… although I do feel I need to be here, I could do with just a bit more time.” She took a deep breath and stared at him.

“Sounds like just what the doctor ordered,” he said with a smile, his hands outstretched and she nodded. Throwing out the tissues in her hand, she looked back at him and exhaled.

“Well, I’ll see you after the new year, Agent Doggett. I hope your holidays are… have a good holiday.” She stuck out her hand and he took it, holding it with both of his own.

“I’ll see you soon, Agent Scully.”

“Yes, you will, Agent Doggett.” She squeezed his hand and let go, picked up her things and walked out the door.

________________________

December 22nd

“Thank you for dinner, Mom,” Scully said, starting to stand up, intent on gathering the dishes and bringing them into the kitchen.

“No, Dana. I’ll get them. You just sit.” Her mother picked up the plates, rubbing Scully’s shoulder as she walked past her and into the kitchen.

Scully sighed and stood up from the table, rubbing at her belly as she walked over to her mother's couch. She closed her eyes as she relaxed back, taking a deep breath as she continued to rub her belly, the scent of cinnamon invading her senses.

Shaking her head, she felt tears slipping from her eyes and she wiped at them quickly, wanting them to stop. Of course that was not going to happen, the tears hitting her hard in unexpected bursts. At least she was at her mother’s tonight and she would understand.

“Oh, honey,” her mother said and Scully opened her eyes, her mother’s kind smile causing her to cry harder.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Scully said, her mother's arms pulling her close. She held onto her, her tears falling faster.

“Don’t apologize, Dana. You have nothing to apologize for, nothing at all. Fox is, was… He was…” And then her mother was crying as they held one another.

When they had both quieted, her mother silently stroked her hair. Scully took a deep breath and wiped her eyes.

“I miss him so much, Mom. I had… I had my faith that he would be okay. That something would… I don’t know. Then people started coming back… and... why couldn’t he have come back? Alive? Why couldn’t I have that? Why did he have to die?”

Her mother held her again as she cried, the baby moving inside of her, causing her to cry harder. It was beyond unfair. After all this time, the belief she would never have a child, and now… now she would face it all alone.

“I know, honey. I know how it hurts. It’s not the same, no grief ever is, but… I know the feeling of loss.”

“I know you do, Mom. How did you ever get past it?”

“I don’t think you ever truly do. I never have. It’s always there, waiting to rear its ugly head when we least expect it.”

“That’s comforting,” Scully stated sarcastically, shaking her head with a sigh.

“I know,” her mother said and they feel silent again, the smell of cinnamon once again filling her senses.

“Mom, I can’t be here for Christmas this year. I just can’t.” Her mother squeezed her hand and nodded in understanding.

“We could go someplace together,” her mother suggested, and Scully shook her head.

“I don’t want to ask that of you. The house is already decorated and you need to be here, for the kids and Bill.”

“They would understand,” her mother said quietly, and Scully shook her head again, the decision made.

“Thank you, Mom, but no.” Her mother nodded, rubbing her back as they once more fell silent.

___________________________

She spent the majority of Christmas Eve in bed, sleeping, and with no energy to get up. Being pregnant tired her out, and adding grief on top of it, she felt exhausted the majority of the time.

Finally getting up in the late afternoon, she sat on the couch and attempted to watch a movie. Everyone was far too happy and cheery, even during the saddest parts of the movie. She shut it off with a sigh, ready to head back to bed.

A hard, loud knock at the door startled her, and she stood to her feet to see who it could possibly be. Frohike stood at her door, swaying on his feet, and nearly toppling in when she opened the door. He smelled of whisky, his eyes bloodshot and sad.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly and she sighed, grabbing his arm and leading him to the couch.

She made him some coffee and brought it over, sitting beside him. He sighed heavily, leaning forward to grab the mug.

“Langly and Byers usually go away and visit friends or some family. They even go on these pilgrimages, to...  I don’t know where. I don’t usually care, but this year…” He shook his head and she nodded in understanding.

“I thought… I figured you might not be up for festivities this year either and I took a chance you would be home. I didn’t want to be alone this year and thought maybe you wouldn’t either.” He looked at her and she smiled, a true smile and took his hand.

He squeezed her hand and then suddenly he was crying softly. His tears brought on her own and they sat together, holding hands in the silence of the room.

When his watch beeped at midnight, she squeezed his hand and wished him a whispered merry Christmas. He nodded, telling her the same.

“You should stay the night,” she said and he nodded his thanks. Squeezing his hand once more, she stood up and got a couple of blankets for him, bringing them back to the couch.

When she left the bathroom she could hear him snoring loudly, and it made her smile. It was loud, yes, but it was comforting, reminding her that she was not alone.

In the morning, she woke up to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. After using the bathroom, she walked in to find Frohike at the stove mixing something in a pan. Glancing over at her, he nodded with a small smile.

“Huevos rancheros, but without too much spice. Don’t want Junior there giving you any undue grief later.” She smiled as she stepped forward and looked at the ingredients sitting on the counters.

“I didn’t have anything like this in the refrigerator.”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No, I went out earlier, finding a small shop open and I got the necessary items. I wanted to thank you for letting me stay last night and well… my huevos rancheros are quite famous.” He smiled at her and she smiled back.

Coffee, orange juice, and tea were on the table as he placed their plates down and sat down to her right.

“I need to apologize for the state I was in last night.”

“No. Don’t apologize,” she said, echoing her mother's recent words. “You, me, all of us... we have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded and she smiled at him. Picking up his fork, she did the same as she looked down at her plate. Taking the first bite, to her joyful surprise, she discovered she had an appetite again, her mouth watering as she raised her fork and took another bite.

She cleared her plate and even asked for a second helping.

Famous huevos rancheros indeed…

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 23)

I realized I left y’all hanging in a weird spot- sorry about that! Now you can have some closure on what’s happening in front of the fireplace! 

Chapter warnings: None, really.

Clint x ofc 

Masterlist Ko-Fi

Note** We will now be updating biweekly for the next few chapters or so. I've got some bullshit going on with my Daughter's school not wanting to provide her supports for her ADHD (as she is entitled to by law) and I've got a lot of phone calls and meetings on the horizon plus my own anxiety acting up.

Chapter 23: Somehow Different 

“I- I couldn’t keep looking at it.” Clint’s voice came out of nowhere.

It scared her out of her skin and she almost dropped the bottle as she flinched back away from the fireplace, as if it had stung her. The baby had settled in his arms, cooing and fussing some still. The sound of wood crackling in the stove combined with her turbulent thoughts combined to drown out his approach.

She handed him the bottle. “I’m sorry- I didn’t- I-”

“It’s okay.” He didn’t look at her or the photo. He kept his eyes on baby Elsa as he spoke, slipping the plastic nipple between her small lips. She was the safe space. Little Elsa wouldn’t be angry with him for his attachments in the past nor was she a ghost from what he had before. “I figured you didn’t want to see that picture while I’m trying to tell you to feel comfortable here.”

“Oh.” She said, looking down at baby Elsa as she drank from the bottle.

She was far more pink now, than she was when they found her or even the night before. Food and warmth had both been good for her. She was one resilient baby, that was for sure.

She’d been at a place, not even an hour ago where she had felt completely at ease in this rustic farmhouse. For a moment, she had forgotten about the ghosts of the world that were all around them. There was that painfully short moment where she had lived completely in the instant, out from under the ghost of what had been.

“That’s a lie.” Clint admitted, drawing her eyes from the baby’s sweet face and up to his stormy blue eyes. “At least partially. I- I couldn’t look at her, anymore. I-” He signed.

Little Elsa had finished her small bottle and settled into sleep once again. Clint’s eyes flicked up to Deanna’s for a moment. He looked fragile, like he was made of glass. If she threw one harsh word, would he shatter at her feet? Would she ever be able to put those pieces back together again, if she were to speak carelessly?

Turning, he took the baby back to the crib. He took his time, swaddling her with care as Deanna stood, looking at his back. There was a heavy silence around them and she regretted touching that cursed picture.

Merry Christmas to her, she had to go and kick up the dust.

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure that Clint had heard her at first, so she repeated herself. “I’m sorry, I’ll- I can go. I can sleep in the RV.”

“What?” He turned to her and there were cracks in his face. She had wanted so badly to avoid hurting him and yet it looked like she had managed to do just that. “No, please.”

That caught her off guard. His hands and arms reached out to her, fingers flexing before he had managed to make it to her side. It looked like he was scared to touch her, his hands hovered just off her arms for a moment before he finally took her in his arms. She went willingly, needing the comfort he was offering as badly as he needed the comfort of having her in his arms. They fed off each other’s unspoken needs and in the back of her mind, she wondered if there was anything she wouldn’t be willing to do for him. Did he need her as much as she needed him?

“Clint?” Don’t cry, she told herself over and over again.

“Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me. I’ll- I can move the picture upstairs or into the basement. Just- please don’t go. I need you.”

Wasn’t that a thought? He needed her. She didn’t want to leave him. Though she offered to go, she didn’t want to sleep somewhere he wasn’t. Hell, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to, in reality. There was a comfort, a safety and security to having Clint by her side at night. She didn’t want to leave him, even just to sleep in the RV without him for a night.

“I’m- I.” She tumbled over her words and instead, settled on letting her actions speak for her. That was safer, easier and so much clearer. She wrapped her arms around him, fingertips digging into the strong muscles of his back. It felt like she was holding onto him for dear life. “I’m not going anywhere, Clint.”

“If you want to- I don’t want you to think you have to stay. I need you but I don’t want you to feel trapped or stuck with me. I just- I’ll be okay, I-” He was mumbling into her hair.

Firelight flickered in the wood stove, sending their embraced shadows dancing around the room. She held onto him tighter still, trying as hard as she could to will the cracked parts of him back together. How many of those cracks did she cause and how many had already been there?

“I need you too.” She whispered, as if it was a cursed secret. “So much more than you know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you for as long as you want me.”

“Let’s go to bed. Sleep while we can before she wakes back up.” Clint leaned back, taking in the look of her face as she looked up at him.

They were standing in the living room he had shared with his wife. Their children had opened their Christmas gifts right about where they stood, year after year. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the tree- fresh, though Laura always pushed him to get a fake tree. She would tell him that it was easier, faster and leave him more time her and the family. The fresh tree was a tradition he held on to though.

Now? Now he wished he had given in years ago and gotten that stupid fake tree. He’d give anything to have those few hours he spent searching for a tree every year back. It was too late to have more time with Laura but it wasn’t too late to claim every moment he could with Dee.

It surprised her when he leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. She had so badly thought she had somehow broken what they had. The feeling of his arms around her, his lips against hers was enough to soothe the hurt in her heart.

It would take time to undo the small cracks in their hearts that had opened up that night. They had all the time in the world however, and were content with that thought. Dee picked up the stuffed fox and blanket to carry to the bedroom but as she crossed by the crib, she hesitated. Clint was standing by her side, checking on the baby who was sleeping soundly.

“You can borrow these, only for tonight.” Dee whispered as she carefully draped the blanket over the small legs. It was getting hard to breath around the lump in her throat as she tucked the stuffed fox into the corner.

“You sure?” Clint whispered as she stepped away.

With a nod, she laced her fingers in his. “It’s just for now. It’s Christmas. They- They’d want her to have them for the night. That little fox looked over Aurora when she was a baby and as she grew.”

“You’re amazing.” Clint whispered as he wiped a tear off her cheek and maybe one of those cracks had started to close up again.

~~~~~<3

It was beyond strange to wake up somewhere that wasn’t her RV. Clint’s voice brought her out of what had been a deep sleep. He sat on the bed with a mug in each of his hands as she blinked her vision clear. Morning sun filtered through the curtains and fell on him in soft waves. Strong muscles stood out, highlighted by the sun and she decided once again, that she loved the way he looked with the sunlight on his back and chest.

Dee had to swallow twice as she sat up. Looking around, she felt panic well and claw at her mind even as she tried to beat it back. The sound of the mugs clicking as they were set on the end table was lost to her.

“Hey, hey.” Clint’s strong hands rubbed up and down her arms, soothing her until he had her attention. When he managed to lock eyes with her, he smiled. “It’s okay. They’re in the crib with Elsa.”

“They are?” She asked and for a moment, Clint wondered if she had lost track of reality.

“The fox and blanket.” He answered, trying to softly remind her that the kids were gone and the world had ended in case she was still trapped in some lovely dream. Guilt stabbed at him. If she was having that sort of dream, part of him felt obligated to let her live in it for as long as she could.

“Right.” She whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He leaned down and captured her lips with his in a kiss. It was something he’d never done before. Sure, they’d shared more than a few kisses but this was different. It was the beginning of the day and felt like he needed that kiss before he could start the day. Or maybe it was her that needed the kiss, that unknown and undefinable thing that was different.

“Don’t be sorry.” He whispered when their lips parted. “I fed and changed Elsa while I made coffee. Potatoes are on the stove, cooking.”

“Look at you, Mr. Man.” She teased, hooking an arm around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Different, something was different but better. Whatever it was that changed, she liked it. Maybe those little parts that cracked apart the night before had needed to be cracked.

“I’ve got more Mr. Man for you.” Clint grinned, pushing her back on the bed and climbing over her. Large hands roamed her sides as they kissed. He rolled his hips against her and she could feel how he was growing stiff in the sweatpants he wore, slung low on his hips. She wanted nothing more than to explore the feeling of him against her more.

“Don’t you have breakfast cooking?” It was hard for her to keep her head on straight. Between the night before and what he was doing now, this was so much more than the simple flirting and lingering touches.

“I want you for breakfast.” He mumbled, trailing his lips down her neck.

“Food.” She panted. “Clint. Food, on the stove. Is it turned on?”

“I am. I bet you are too.” A large hand cupped her breast and she arched into the touch.

“Clint. Stove. Food. Don’t burn it.”

With a groan he sat up. It took everything she had to only allow herself a small glance at the tent in his sweatpants. “Fine.” He whined. “You’re right.”

With all the maturity of a ten year old, Clint pulled himself from the bed. His lips pouted but he couldn’t hide the way the corners of his lips tried to pull up into a smile. When she laughed, it only encouraged his show. With his shoulders hunched down and back slumped as he took up his coffee. Dee rolled her eyes and sat up, taking a generous drink from her own mug.

“Go, before you burn it.” She said, shooing him with her hand.

“Fine.” He whined. “Such a slave driver.” The sound of his foot stomping echoed softly though the room and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re such a ham.” Her back popped as she stood up. The hem of his shirt tickled her thighs, a reminder of what what had perhaps been the thing to change everything. And she liked the change.

“I’m your ham.” He shot back as he walked out of the room.

He wasn’t there to see the way she froze at his words. He called himself hers. He gave her a claim over him. It wasn’t something they had talked about. Hell, the closest they had come was the agreement that she could leave whenever she wanted. But he just said he belonged to her. It was something he was saying more and more now and yet, something felt different this time. Everything felt different now.

Long legs carried her through the room. Bare feet padded down the hallway. Glancing in the crib as she walked by, she found little Elsa awake and exploring the taste of her fingers. In the kitchen, Clint’s back was to her.

Sun highlighted his strong back and reflected off what few golden highlights remained. With summer sun gone, his hair had turned darker. She wondered how quickly the sun would again bleach the strands in the spring. In her heart, she knew that she would still be here, come spring.

When her fingers traced over his skin, he startled. The great marksman of the Avengers team and she managed to sneak up on him. He trusted her enough that he let his guard down with her, that he relaxed with her enough for her to sneak up on him. That fact alone delighted her. She only hoped she was worth it, to him.

She wrapped her arms around his middle. Resting her head against his back, she enjoyed the way she could feel his chest expand with each breath. Some grease splattered up from the pan, stinging her arm. She ignored it in favor of holding him a while longer.

“I’m yours too, you know.” She whispered into his back.

She couldn’t see it, but he smiled at her words. His heart fluttered at hearing them. It was something he hadn’t thought he needed to hear. Sure, he’d told her he loved her and she’d said it back. Somehow, each different way they found of saying it made it mean all the more.

“You’re getting splatter burns.” He rubbed his hand over the small red dots, as if to rub the slight burn away.

“So are you.” She pointed out.

Whatever he was going to say, he decided against it when the soft cooing turned into fussing and grunts. “Your turn, babe.”

Now it was her turn for dramatics. Whining, she made her way into the living room. Elsa looked far too innocent and pleased with herself from her spot in the crib. Deanna remembered a lot about when her children were babies but it was that sweet smile that was seared in her memory. That was the smile of a true demon, one that had created a mess that belonged in hell. As the smell wafted up at her, she remembered how glad she had been when Frankie toilet trained and the sea of diapers in her life had ended.

Until now.

“That was a nasty one.” Dee whined as she tossed the disposable diaper into the nearly empty trashcan, making a mental note to take it out later. They didn’t fill the cans nearly fast enough and a pail full of soiled diapers would quickly smell, regardless of how soiled they were.

“Guess that means she’s getting enough to eat now.” Clint chuckled as he placed a sweet kiss on her lips.

He had a plate in each hand. Potatoes were something reserved for a bit of a treat. They’d begun to run low on fresh potatoes but Clint had a few plants started in the converted greenhouse. He’d said it would be a few months, if they grew well, until they would be ready. In the spring, he planned to plant a large crop of them outside.

“Clint?” She asked as he cleared the now empty plates from the table. He hummed an answer. “What are we going to do?”

He sighed and sat heavily again at the table. “We plan, first. I can’t-”

“We.” There was no way in hell she was going to let him go into battle alone.”

“Dee, it’s going to be dangerous. I can’t put you in danger. If anything were to happen to you-”

“And if something were to happen to you? How would I ever know? How would I go on?”

“I can’t do my job if I’m worrying about you.” Looking away, he ran his hand through his hair. “Someone has to take care of Elsa, anyway.”

“What if- what if I’m not close enough to get hurt? What if we stay at a distance?”

“They have guns, Dee.” Clint sighed. “But you’re not going to let me win this one, are you? What about Elsa?”

“If I’m off shooting from a distance, it will be fine. Right?” It was clear as day to Clint that she had never see anything even resembling a battle.

“Fine.” He couldn’t believe he was going to consider agreeing to this. “First thing we do is find somewhere safe and high up and with a clear line of sight and get you and Elsa inside. You’ll have guns and your bow. If they start firing at you, you get the fuck away from the window and exterior walls.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be on the ground, cutting the head off the snake.”

“What if something happens to you?” She didn’t want to think of it. “I mean, you’re going to be in more danger than me.”

“If something happens to me, you get the fuck out of there. You get back here and you stay as long as you need to, as you want to. You protect yourself.”

“But-”

“No buts.” He took her hand in his, lacing his fingers between hers. “If something happens to me, it would take too long for you to get to me and you’d probably die trying. You can handle ranged- to a degree- but you’re in no way ready to face close quarters combat.”

“And you are?” She challenged. “I mean, you’re a marksman. Why don’t you stay in the distance, we can pick them off all day until there are no more left.”

“I am.” He snapped. “I am far more capable than anyone gives me credit for.”

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @tnystrk-exe, @toozmanykids, @bambamwolf87, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @usedtobegoodfriend96, @acoholic-muffin, @missaphrodite23, @j-u-s-t-4. @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @carissime72, @myoxisbroken, @coyotesongwriting, @wegingerangelica​, @faemapfae​, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​, 

[lokisgame]

A Generous Donation [15]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13] [part 14]

"You're not fidgeting," Scully said, slipping her arm under his as they walked up the path to her mothers' house. "Your mom isn't that scary." "You're the first one to say that." "First what?" "Boyfriend." She smiled looking up and seeing his grin. "When was the last time you brought a guy to meet the family?" "Don't ask." "Okay, now I really want to know." "Mulder!" They took the three steps to the front door and he drew her closer into his side, grinning wide. "Tell me!" He teased, but she rang the bell and the a second later the doors stood open.

"Charlie!" Scully smiled, stepping inside and hugging her brother. "You're just in time." "I thought we're early," Mulder smiled as they shook hands. "Here, that's on time, if you're on time, you're late." "What if the time isn't set?" "Then whoever's last, is late." "That's mean." "Don't listen to him," Scully laughed and pushed her coat into her brothers' arms. "Emily!" "Hi, Aunt Dana." The girl smiled, kissing Scully's cheek then came and did the same with Mulder. "Grandma sent me to tell you dinner's ready." "Dana, Fox," Maggie came in, wiping hands on her apron, "good, you're here." "Hi mom," Scully hugged her mother then linked her arm through Mulders' again, "this is Mulder, not Fox." "Of course," Maggie laughed and took the flowers he brought. "Thank you for the invitation," Mulder said and taking a step back to Scully's side, he found her hand, waiting for him, fingers lacing together. "Let's agree that from now on, you're not just invited, you're expected." "Mom," Scully sighed, "we just got here." "Who's hungry?" Charlie said, comically cheerful. "I'm hungry," Emily chimed in. "You're always hungry," he laughed. "Will would understand me," she pouted and turned on her heel, clinking buckles and creaking leather. "He'll be back, before you know it." Scully said and followed, pulling Mulder along. "And you'll fight for the best bits." "Once he's back, he can have them all." "He might want that in writing," Charlie chuckled. "Then he will have to go through my lawyer," Emily laughed and walked through to the dining room. Scully followed and paused, clearly surprised by the amount of food on the table. "You didn't say we're redoing Thanksgiving," she said. "It's just a dinner," Maggie replied taking her usual place. "It looks delicious," Mulder said and pulled out a chair for Scully. "Come, sit down and enjoy."

Scully leaned against his side, playing with her wine glass. That was by far the nicest family dinner he attended, though admittedly, his own family gatherings didn't set the bar very high. He felt full and content enough to doze off on the couch, and that was the best feeling he could imagine right now. Charlie took the end of the couch while Emily sat on the floor, trying to lure Stubb from her grandmas' lap. The feather on a stick got nothing but a twitch of whiskers from the ginger cat, who true to his name, missed a piece of his tail, but like his book counterpart, retained his good humour despite the feline misadventure. After rubbing on all shins and collecting all due pats and scratches, he settled in his mistresses hands. "Tell us about your family, Fox." Maggie said from the armchair by the fireplace. "There's not much to tell," Mulder said, "my father worked for the DOD and died in '95, mom stayed on the Vineyard after they divorced and there she died, in the spring of 2000." "I'm so sorry." "It's okay. After my sister disappeared in '73, we sort of started to live on our own anyway." "That's horrible," Maggie said appalled. "It's ancient history. I go out to the island once a year, to visit the graves and make sure the house still stands." "You have a house on Martha's Vineyard?" Scully asked. "Usually I rent it out, saving a week or two for myself in the summer." "I'll remember that," she said, sipping her wine, "it's always nice to get out of town for a while." "Consider yourself invited," he said, drawing her a little into his side, then looking up, "that goes for all of you." "Can I book two weeks right now?" Emily asked opening her arms for the cat, who finally decided he wanted the toy more than a nap. "I'll pay, obviously. "Don't be silly. I'll email you the number for my realtor and let her know she should expect a call. It's always open for family." "Thank you," she said and grinned, picking up the cat to look into his green eyes, "Uncle Mulder." Maggie and Mulder laughed, but Scully levelled a glare at her brother. Charlie shrugged almost imperceptibly and took a sip of scotch, ignoring her frown. "We should all go together, a family vacation," Emily said, looking up at Scully, "Will would love that." "Small steps, Em," Scully said, "we'll see if he's up for it." "Any ideas for Christmas?" Charlie asked. "Haven't thought about it yet, if his results keep improving, they might loosen the quarantine procedures, but is it worth the risk?" "He will have to come out of there, eventually," Mulder said. "Christmas happens every year," she said a little sad, "Will happens once in a lifetime." "We'll think of something," he sighed. "Is everything okay, honey?" Maggie asked. "Sure, I just had a long day, that's all." "You wanna go home?" Mulder said softly, dropping a kiss on her temple, but she shook her head lightly. "Not yet," she said and handed him her glass, "I'll just rest my eyes for a minute." "Okay." The conversation flowed around her, touching Mulder's childhood on the island, the house and his travels. Some stories she heard and some were new, especially ones from his Oxford years. All the while, Mulder stayed as warm and relaxed as ever, as if he always belonged there. And when he and Charlie realised, they both traveled to New York to see Red Sox play against Yankees in September, she realised, he not only belonged, but became one of them.

They came back to her place, somehow feeling that that's the right bed to end the day in. "You want tea?" She asked, when he helped her out of her coat, ever the gentleman. "Will there be rum in it." "No rum, sorry." Mulder followed through the living room, and caught up to her by the sink, where she filled the kettle from the tap. He put his arms around her, pulling her back to his front. "Then we'll have to think of something else to keep us warm," he said against the side of her neck, "beside tea." "I don't recall you having any trouble with that," she teased, leaning against him. "You're my great inspiration," he chuckled, but let go when she moved to set the kettle on the stove. "I need to shower first," she said, turning and pulling his face down for a kiss. "Can you do this?" "So it's me making the tea?" "I really need to pee." That made him laugh. "Go, I'll take care of this," he said, kissing her again. "Thanks."

She left him to roam free around the kitchen, pulling out mugs and her favourite Earl Grey. He found lemon in the fruit basket and sliced it in half, little thing he knew she liked, and while he waited for the water to boil, a picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a simple landscape scene, seaside sunset in orange and purple, but in the foreground, with their backs to the camera, sat Scully, in a sundress and a straw hat, saying something to Will, sitting beside her on the sand. He couldn't be older than five, and God did she look beautiful. The scene radiated love, a sweet and tender moment caught so perfectly, that he almost felt jealous he wasn't there to witness it. There was a date below the picture, July 1996 with initials, CS. The jealous feeling died the minute he saw the inscription, Charlie Scully was a man of many talents. Mulder followed the trail of family portraits captured on various occasions, from birthday parties to Christmases. The kettle whistled when he was looking at a picnic scene, in which Scully fed watermelon to a three year-old Will. His face was pink as was his stained shirt, but their smiles were so vibrant, they made him laugh softly. "What's so funny?" Scully asked from a distance. Mulder turned and saw her come in, wearing a short, silk nightgown under a long, loose kimono. Both very modest, demure even, but the gown had just a touch of lace trim and it was enough to make his knees weak. "Okay, I feel underdressed," he said, as she came closer, barefoot and stunning. "You like it?" She said, puling the midnight blue robe around herself a little. "You might say that." He swallowed hard, watching her take the mugs from the counter on her way, and handing one to him, while glancing at the wall. "Will and watermelon," Mulder said, gathering his wits and gesturing with the mug to the picture. "Oh, that one, we were in California that summer and he really discovered fruit that year, loved it ever since." She took a small sip and looked up. "You want to see more?" "Show me everything." He watched the silk float around her curves and shins, as she pulled albums from shelves and brought them back to the coffee table. She took the first one and folded herself on the couch against his side, filling his space with her warmth. "Before we begin," she said, keeping her hand on the cover, holding the thick volume shut, "please, remember this was early 90's and my hair was…" "Wonderful, I'm sure of it." He finished, taking the album from her hands. First page held a single picture, Scully in a hospital bed, looking up into the camera, holding a little bundle of blankets in her arms. "He was so tiny," she said wistfully, "but there was always something in his eyes, like he knew more than he showed." "That's all you," Mulder said, pulled into this tender scene, "you can make or break someone with one look." "No I don't." "Yeah, you do," he chuckled, turning the page, "but he only got love from you. Look at this." He ran his fingers around a photo, again showing Scully watching Will in her arms, nursing happily, his tiny palm closed around her thumb. "That's love." "He was two months old." "Who took this one?" "Charlie, that's why he's hardly in any picture," she said, leaning on his side, "he's the family photographer." "Here's one." Mulder laughed seeing Scully's brother holding Will in his outstretched arms, little arms flailing and tiny feet squashing his perfect nose. "Why do I find this hilarious?" "Because it is, Will was a fighter, putting him to bed took hours." Scully laughed sipping tea, "only way was to tire him before the bath, warm water calmed him down and he usually fell asleep nursing. Those were the good nights." "And the bad ones?" "Oh, he wouldn't fall asleep for the world, the little night owl. But he wasn't fussy or scared, he just played in his bed, minding his own business." "We would've gotten along nicely." Mulder said, turning the page to more baby and holiday pictures, pausing by a photo of Will holding on to the edge of a coffee table. "Look at him, he's so proud." "End of an era," Scully smiled looking over his shoulder, "after that, I had to have eyes around my head." "He looks like a runner." "He does, but he always loved water best." She pointed to another picture, where they were sitting in a paddling pool laughing, as Will slapped his tiny arms and legs against the surface, sending water splashing everywhere. "A regular sea monster," Mulder chuckled and turned the page to find a photo of Emily, maybe six years old, and Will with his nose and elbows covered in scabs. "What happened here?" "He tried to run," she sighed, smoothing down a corner that got unglued. "He saw Emily walking through the yard and just ran to her." "Poor kid," Mulder crooned. "You'd think so, but he barely cried, he always was a tough cookie." "That's because he grew up watching you," Mulder said not even trying to hide the admiration, "don't underestimate the strength you're projecting, a self-sufficient, capable and independent figure, who also gave him love, care and support he needed. Positively reinforced example." "Sometimes I forget you teach psychology at Harvard," she smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning her head on his shoulder. They browsed through the album, watching Will grow from a wobbling toddler into a small boy. Pictures of first bike rides, country fairs and family trips to Chicago, Washington, D.C., New York. Mulder paused on a picture of Will in a New York Yankees jersey, a classic baseball card shot. "Wow." "What?" Scully said, startled out of her reverie. "I've got the exact same picture," he said laughing under his breath, "I mean, the uniform is a bit different but still, he could be me. I guess all kids look alike at a certain age." "No, that's not it," she said and her tone made him look up from the album and meet her gaze. "Then what is it?" "He's your son," Scully said. For a second he wanted to tease her back, laugh about it, roll his eyes, but though her tone was warm, he saw she was scared. "What?" She shifted a little, staying close while turning to see him. "Remember when I told you how I had Will, after I had a terrible fight with the guy I was with?""He didn't think you can do it," Mulder said. "My friend is a fertility specialist and she agreed to help me with the procedure." "What procedure?" "In Vitro fertilisation," Scully said, holding his gaze, though her cheeks burned and her hands were starting to shake. "I had Will through IVF," then she added quietly, "using donor sperm." Mulder's blood ran cold and he hid his face in his hands. "Oh sh…" "Did you ever?" She asked gently. "I," his voice came muffled, "I did, once. I never told anyone about it." He felt her side pressed against him, arm around his shoulder. "It was supposed to be anonymous." "I contacted the bank and they gave me a few options to chose from." "The blood test before transplant," he said, looking up, "that's how you found out." "Yes," "And you didn't tell me." "I couldn't bring myself to do it," she said quietly, her eyes growing wet, voice breaking, "if anything went wrong, if the transplant didn't work." Tears spilled and she looked away. "I couldn't give you a son, just to take him away." For the first time that night words failed him, but he puled her into his arms, feeling his shirt grow hot as she held on tight. All the conversations with Will were coming back, the pain he felt at the thought this kid might be gone someday, amusement mixed with respect, when he tried to play the matchmaker, wanting to take care of his mother, the relief he felt, when he heard he was getting better, and suddenly, it all made sense. He had a son, a brilliant kid with bright blue eyes and a huge heart. A kid who facing death, cared more about others than himself, honest and kind young man. Could he have done it better? "We have a son." He whispered and felt tears burn down his face. "Why IVF? Couldn’t you just find a guy?" He asked once he found his voice again and once he spoke, she began to relax. "I was crazy back then," she sniffed, snuggling closer, "the thought I'd have to deal with some guy for the rest of my life, someone who might show up one day and ruin what I build for the baby and myself. In my head, it was the worst thing possible." "You could have at least tried," he chuckled, kissing her neck, "maybe we’d meet sooner." "Or we would never end up together. Maybe now, instead of sitting on this couch, I'd be mourning my son, cursing his father, wherever he was." "You wouldn't be together?" "I wasn't ready to share myself with anyone yet, I wanted a child, but that didn't mean I felt that my life lacked." "Unconditional love." "Everyone told me I was crazy, even Charlie." "Really?" "He said, I love you Danes and I'm with you, but this is crazy." "And your mother?" "She thought so too, she thought I should wait, that Daniel wasn't the right man, that someone would show up, who would love me and our child." Scully looked up and cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes with warmth, "she didn't know, I'd have to wait twenty years for him." Mulder leaned closer and caught her lips, feeling them tear-soft and willing. "I still wish you told me sooner." "I couldn't." She sighed, resting her forehead against his, cool fingers scratching at the base of his scull. "If it failed, if Will died because of the transplant, I couldn’t risk watching you go through that." "And if I wasn't a match? Would you leave me one day, without telling me why?" "God no," she pulled him back into a hug, "I love you too much."

[zach-the-fox]

Furiends Episode 7: Broken with Power

It is a new day, and the friends gather once again. This time, their conference takes place at the Heroto Diner. They squeeze together in a round booth and get comfortable. After having washed off the last of the rainbow chemicals and rest from their time at the ruined laboratory, the gang finally chills without having to be in an eerie environment. Brook takes a big gulp of sweetened iced-tea as Emmy sips on her mug of hot, steaming coffee. Hatboy and Zach, on the other hand, hold soda in their grips. Carly is the only one focused on the activity she creates in her drawing pad.

“Ah,” utters Emmy, smiling. “This is nice: sitting in the diner and having a good meal.”

“I second that,” Hatboy replies, reflecting his expression. “Nothing beats a good, old-fashioned burger and some french fries.”

“I agree!” adds the purple rabbit. “It’s so much better with you guys, unlike those cold-hearted animals known as Team Rescuers.” She turns to Zach. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring that up. No offense, you know…”

“None taken,” Zach tells her. “In fact, I’m happy to say I’m past all of that. You guys have helped me back on my feet and changed my life. You’re the greatest friends a fox could ask for.” She pats him on the back with a smile.

Emmy looks to the cat. “Carly, can’t you work on drawing another time? We’re at the table with our friends.” Carly scoots away slightly to ignore her. “Come on. Don’t be so-” The warthog pauses as she notices the people of the diner begin eyeing the gang. “Um, does anyone get the feeling something’s wrong here?” The others see what she means, observing the specters of the eatery.

Brook sees what she means. Her smile disappears. “Everyone is looking at us… Why are they looking at us like that?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Hatboy implies. “We’re just hanging out… Unless, they all think we’re weird because Zach is with us…”

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Zach suggests. “I feel like we’re attracting unwanted attention.”

“I second that,” Brook insists. “Besides, I’m feeling a little headache…” Everyone agrees, get out of their seats, and stand. Carly keeps her head in her sketchbook as she draws.

Hatboy places money down on the table before the whole gang exits out the diner. The eyes of the other animals follow them as they disappear, and remain fixed on them through the glass as the others distance themselves from the diner. “Okay, that’s so creepy,” he comments. “What is going on?”

The warthog halts beside the glass window of an electronic store, noticing her and her friends’ pictures on the screen mounted on the wall. “Guys, come look at the television right now…”

“Not now,” Carly says. “I’m working on something very-”

“We’re on the news!” the warthog interrupts. Everyone gathers by the screens and watches the news story.

“Welcome to Heroto News!” utters a well-dressed owl. “I am Helen Hooters with your regular news stories. We begin today with a warning to the town. Team Rescuers are advising us to be cautious of these five figures shown here. We’ve been told that they were at the old ruined Heroto Laboratory last night and are have been acting suspicious. Team Rescuers and police are urging residents to be cautious.”

Brooks remains fixed on the television. “What…? They think we’re suspicious? Suspicious of what? This is ridiculous…”

“We’re now going to turn to our breaking news,” the owl continues. “The Heroto orphanage had been ripped apart by a loud explosion. We go to you live on the spot with Camille Chicken.” The scene cuts to the orphanage building with a large hole in it and emergency services around the area.  

In front of the damaged structure stands a chicken in a trench coat. “Good morning, Helen. It is a surprising morning to everyone in Heroto as we have found the orphanage had been blown up in the early morning hours. Residents have informed the news team that they heard a loud “boom” last night around 4:20 a.m., and are calling it an act of terror. Team Rescuers had combed through the site to find evidence that it was, indeed, a terrorist attack, after finding pieces of explosive materials around the area. There have been only mild to moderate injuries, and everyone who was involved in the blast are expected to make a full recovery in the hospital. People have been informing us that they’ve seen five animals walking through town and suspect they are the culprits behind the attacks. Team Rescuers has advised us it’s the flawed fox and his freaky friends that hang about, but there is no word on whether they were the ones behind the attacks. This is Camille Chicken reporting to you from the Heroto Orphanage.”

“Thank you, Camille.” The shot returns to the owl. “Now, we’re unsure if these two events are related to each other, but it seems plausible at this time. Team Rescuers and police are urging caution. We now take you to Alan Hawk for the weather.”

“That can’t be good,” says Zach. “That can’t be good at all…”

“Indeed,” Emmy adds. “We better get out of here now before-”

“Flawed Fox and friends!” The gang turns to see Jay and the team appear before them. “You have made a grave mistake!”

“Oh, hello there, Team Rescuers,” utters Brook. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Can it, Hops! We had suspicions you would, Flawed Fox!” Jay marches up to the fox. “I know you always loathed the orphanage, and it’s a good enough motive to get you arrested!”

“Hold on.” Carly stands between the two animals. “What makes you so sure Zach was the one who blew up the orphanage? He was with us the whole time.”

“Indeed, you were,” says Miffy. “You five have quite the nerve attacking poor, defenseless children!”

Carly turns to her quickly. “What?!”

“We weren’t the ones who attack the orphanage!” cries Hatboy. “We were all hanging out last night.”

“Yeah,” responds. “Hanging out by the old laboratory!” Hatboy flinches with fear. “You don’t think we know? You’re all in big trouble! You’re coming with us!” She reaches for Zach and grabs him. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Flawed Fox!”

“Get off of him!” Carly smacks the sheep with her sketchbook, causing her to fall back. She then charges toward them, but Hatboy pushes her aside, tossing her into a trashcan nearby.

Jay growls. “No one hurts my girlfriend!” He starts for the red rabbit, clawing at him and scratching his face. Zach steps in and extends his arm across Jay’s face, punching him in the mouth and knocking him away. “That’s it! I’ll kill you, Flawed Fox!” He charges for the fox, but then freezes within three meters of them as Brook stands in front and sticks out her leg, which connects with the area between his legs. The wolf covers his sensitive spot and stumbles to the ground.

Brook smiles. “I’ve always wanted to do that!”

“You’ve messed with the wrong group!” Kenji gets into his ready stance. “Prepare to face a master in martial arts!” Emmy stamps on the monkey’s foot, which causes him to lift and hold it before Zach quickly pushes him into the trash with Cindy.

“You criminals won’t get away with this!” As Miffy presses forward, Carly grabs her by the tail, yanks her, and spins her around. With enough momentum, he lets go and tosses her into a wall, where she’s stunned and dazed.

“Don’t ever mess with my friends!” Carly yells. The gang looks around as a crowd of angry citizens gather by them. “Uh… Uh oh…”

“Let’s get out of here!” Emmy shouts. Her and the others bolt away from the area with the mob. They run, faster and faster, as the yells and cries of the mob continue from behind them. The gang gets chased around blocks and corners. Eventually, they head down into a subway station and travel down the dim-lit tunnel. The gang continue down the line, then hide. When they no longer hear the cries and yells of the townsfolk, the friends stop and rest in place by the nearest station.

“Phew,” comments Brook. “That was close… Who would’ve thought people would become agitated quickly…?”

Zach turns to the others. “That was amazing… The way you all took on Team Rescuers…”

“You did well, too,” says Carly, smiling. “It was a nice punch against Jay. Did it feel good?” Zach nods.

“Friends always stick up for each other,” Emmy implies. “That’s what we do. It’s too bad that everyone, including Team Rescuers, will be after us, now…”

“That’s just great,” Hatboy starts. “Now the whole town thinks we’re terrorists…”

“W-what do we do now?” asks Carly. “We can’t go back to our homes… Team Rescuers will be waiting for us up there…” She sighs. “Great, now my mother will definitely kill me, if not Team Rescuers.”

“But we didn’t do anything!” Brook utters. “How could they blame us for something we didn’t do?!”

“I don’t know,” Zach responds. “They’re probably just blaming us because-” The fox pauses and holds his head. “Ugh!”

Carly moves closer to him. “You okay, Zach? What’s gotten into you?”

“My head,” the fox tells her. “I-it hurts so much! It’s like a hammer is banging on my skull a million times! My whole body’s aching, too!”

“You should take s-” The cat mirrors the fox’s move and flinches, trembling. “Ow! Ugh, I don’t feel so good…”

Emmy heads over to them with worry. “We should see if we -” The warthog pauses, then quickly kneels to the ground as she grudges her stomach. “A-ah! W-what is happening?! Why does my body ache so much?!” Soon, the rabbits join them in agony as pain fill their minds, bodies, and senses. All they could do is endure it, with no help or relief. The friends moan, groan, tremble, grit, and clench as their suffering continues. Half of them lie on the ground as the rest lean against the wall, wishing it would all stop. And then, just like that, the torture ceases.

“W-what just happened?” asks Zach, getting off the wall. “What was all of that about?”

“Ugh,” Hatboy stands from the concrete ground, still holding his head. “Why do I feel so strange? I feel like a fly that’s been squished.” Light encompasses the red rabbit as he changes form. His entire body morphs into a giant black fly. Everyone stares at him with gaping eyes and mouths. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“Holy!” Carly points at him. “You’re a giant fly!”

“What?” Hatboy looks down at his paws, which are the limbs of an insect’s. “What the?! What’s happened to me?!” He pulls out his phone, looking into the camera’s selfie function. “I’m a fly?! Ah! Change me back! Someone!” Just like that, he returns to his normal self. “Uh…”

“Oh my god!” Zach yells. “How did you do that?!”

“I don’t know… I just said I was a fly… I have transformation abilities?!”

“Hold on!” Carly puts his paws on the area between her legs. “I have to use the bathroom real bad!” She runs away fast, then returns within five seconds. “Phew.” Everyone stares at her in bewilderment. She looks at her friends before reflecting their expressions. “Oh my! Did I just run to the bathroom and back in a matter of seconds?! Wait a minute…” She pulls out her sketchbook, and within a few seconds, she fills the entire page with her speed. “Whoa…”

“You have super speed!” exclaims Brook. “That’s so cool!” She looks down at her paws to examine them. “I feel a little tingly in my paws… I wonder what happened to me…” She extends her arm out to Hatboy. He starts glowing bright light blue before being hoisted in the air. Brook’s arm conducts him high. “Whoa! I’ve got telekinesis! Cool!” She takes back her arm, dropping the red rabbit. “Oops, sorry, Hats.”

Emmy holds her head. “I feel a little light…” Suddenly, she vanishes into thin air.

“Oh!” Carly juts. “Emmy, where’d you go?!”

“I’m right here!”

Carly looks around frantically. “Where?!”

“Here!” The warthog reappears in front of her. “I’ve been standing her the whole time! Didn’t you see me?!”

Carly stares at her in surprise. “No… You just disappeared, then reappeared!”

Emmy thinks hard about it, causing her to disappear and reappear again. Her expression turns to reflect the cats. “I-I have invisibility… That’s insane!”

Zach looks down at his body. “Why does my body feel strange…?” Everyone looks toward the tunnel at the sound of a horn, seeing a railroad car speeding toward them Everyone but Zach jumps out of the way. The fox extends his arms out to the metal vehicle and shuts his eyes tightly. The train slams into him and pushes him along the tracks, but then slows to a halt. Zach opens his eyes to see the subway stopped in its tracks as he holds it out in front of him. The others come out of hiding, looking at the fox with shock. Zach himself examines the work that he’s done. “Oh… My… God…” He then pushes the cars in the opposite direction with great force. “I’ve got super strength… I… Whoa…”

“We have super powers,” concludes Hatboy. “That’s incredible… How did we get super powers?”

Zach gasps, tracing his thoughts back to the event that lead up to this point. “The chemicals from the laboratory! The rainbow liquid that washed over us! That’s how we’ve got them!”

“I’m down with that,” Brook says. She pushes the empty cans with her telekinesis. “Man, this is “super” cool. We’re like superheroes!”

“Hm.” Carly puts her paw on her chin. “That actually gives me an idea. We should start our own little super gang with our new abilities. We can blow Team Rescuers out of the water and show Heroto what real heroes are. We’d be better than them.” Everyone hesitates with her suggestion, but then soon come to an agreement on it.

“Just one question,” adds Emmy. “Where are we setting up our base of operations? We’re wanted by the whole town, and I’m pretty sure Team Rescuers will be out looking for us.”

“We can hide down here, actually,” Zach implies. “There’s an abandoned subway terminal just down the line on the third set of tracks. Been abandoned for years, and no one ever uses it.”

“Ooo!” Brook smiles. “I like the sound of that! Very interesting! Wait, how the heck do you know about that?”

“When I was with Team Rescuers, we intercepted Capital Corp using the tunnel, but we – I mean Team Rescuers – battled and pushed them out.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Carly tells him. “We should get our things if we’re going to set up down here.”

“And how are we going to do that with Team Rescuers and the townspeople above us, waiting to hurt us?” Hatboy queries.

“We’ll go at night,” Emmy suggests. “That way no one can see us. Carly can use her superspeed and I have invisibility, which means we’ll get everything down here quickly.”

“Yeah, that’ll work. First thing’s first, though.” Brook looks at Zach. “Lead us to the abandoned station, Zach. I’d love to see that.”

“It’s right this way.” Zach traces the third track down into the tunnel with the gang following him. “It’s going to be a bit of a long walk, but since no one comes down here, it should be safe enough to hide in.”

Emmy has her hoof on her chin as she follows the fox. “I’m starting to grow skeptical of Team Rescuers…”

@carlycmarathecat​ @emmy-the-absolute-goof​ @bendy-bear-15​

[hardyimagines]

Intruder — Part 2

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Hi could would you be interested in writing a Bane fic were he and one or two of his men need to hideout, and they come across this home kinda of hidden away or in an isolated area and a girl lives there on her own. He decides to keep her alive and eventually they fall for each other. I'd also like him to to be kinda mean and dominant. + She has to stay in main room with bane so he can make sure she doesn't escape😉 I'm sensing a smutty imagine. I like my bane a Dom with choking of course. I don't ask for much do I 🤣🤣

Part 1

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A few days came and went. That was the biggest lie you’d ever been told in your life. A few days meant 2, maybe 3. It didn’t mean 26.

They’d been staying with you for almost a month.

Bane was far more protective over you then he’d initially intended on being. He had thought he’d set some ground rules and that would be it. He didn’t expect to be lurking around every corner, watching you tend to laundry and dishes, ensuring that neither Larry or Oscar even dared to stare at you. He felt a constant need to watch, fascinated by something so simple as another human. His eyes danced with sympathy when he saw sadness strike your expression. He felt pangs of guilt, emotions he’d thought had been buried. It made him sick to his stomach. He was a bad guy. That’s how everyone viewed him. He wasn’t suppose to feel regret. And since he did, why didn’t he leave? Well, because then he’d never see you again. And it was so safe here, why leave?

The forks cluttered as you noisily dropped them into the opened wooden drawer. All of the cutlery was messily placed together in that one area, shoved so tightly in the space that it was difficult to shut the drawer. It took a few tries, harsh slams, before it unwillingly closed. You lifted your gaze to the man in the corner, lips twitching upward in the slightest to bid him good morning. You didn’t like Bane. You simply tolerated him. You didn’t have a say on whether or not he should stay or go, you just had to deal with what he chose to do. Your brain pricked and pried at the thumping of your heart, begging to know why it was beating heavily beneath his unwavering stare. You wouldn’t find the answer, not when the reminder of ‘I don’t like Bane’ contradicted the hammering of your artery.

Bane stepped into the room, short fingertips, coated in embedded dirt, tracing the tabletop that had recently been cleaned. He watched the little sway of your hips as you scrubbed at the dishes in the sink. He lied to himself daily, insisting that he didn’t feel anything for you. You were just a hostage. A girl who’s home he needed to use. But the cops were long gone, no longer looking in this area. He’d gone off the radar and he was free to go. But he kept you under the impression that he had to stay.

“Morning.” Your quiet voice greeted. It was so welcoming, like a soft breeze on a hot day, urging him to come out and enjoy the nice weather, only in this case, your tone urged him to venture further into the room. He did. The bottoms of his boots were thick with leather, rough against the tile in the kitchen. He’d never be able to silently approach, for the shoes on his feet sounded like he walked with boulders tied to his ankles.

He let out a hoarse grunt. It was drawn out, more of a drone, as he stepped toward the table further. Coffee mugs were set out, empty and clean, awaiting the beverage that simmered in the corner. Steam rose from the pot, alerting the thirsty occupants in the room that the liquid was hot enough to burn them, but was ready to be ingested. Bane looked toward the pot before looking back toward you as he set himself down on the corner of the table. Why settle for a chair? You looked briefly to his position before rotating around. He scrutinized you, remaining silent as you weaved around his outspread legs in order to tend to the remaining duties. When he’d first arrived, he’d made it clear that you’d never be allowed to be on your own, but within just a few days, he had seen how trusting you were. He’d let his guard down. And so far, that wasn’t a mistake. Granting you your independence meant that you didn’t feel so trapped, you had some amount of freedom. Sleeping was the only time you had no choice of receiving any privacy.

“Where are the others?” He asked suddenly. Your grip on the rag tightened, accidentally wringing the cloth. Water spilt on the floor, droplets of it staining the wood as you stood a few feet away from him. Eyeing the little dribbles, your eyes lifted to his, studying him.

“Outside.” Your answers were always short and sweet. “I think they saw a fox.” Your words made your heart hurt. There was no need to harm an animal, the creatures around here minded their business and because you’d never bothered them, they tended to come close, stealing the leftovers from your opened trash can. What a mistake it had been to leave the bin open that morning. You’d never seen two men move so quickly, laughing like hyenas as they raced after their prey. Your jaw clenched before you resumed cleaning the countertops. “No use in chasing down an innocent pup, Ive got plenty of food.” Bane squinted before looking toward the window. There was no sign of either of them.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” He spoke, words followed by the rough groaning of the table as it’s legs scraped the floor. He grumbled out before pushing the table back into its original position. “neither of them are too smart — or too quick.” He brushed his finger along the front of his vest before moving toward you. Cleaning seemed to be all you did. And that had only begun once they arrived because bane still vividly remembered the filthy rooms that the home had had when they first arrived. You sent him a light smile of thanks for his attempt at reassurance before stepping around him again. His palm shot forward, ceasing your wrist in his surprisingly tender grip. You looked up at him curiously. Fear wasn’t present in your eyes and it made him want to hit you. Nobody had ever looked at him — a man who wasn’t understood, a man with a mask, with a built body, capable of crushing someone with the fist he had wrapped around your arm — with such sincerity. Why weren’t you scared of him? Those pools of blue ignited with an emotion you weren’t familiar with. “Why do you live up here? All on your own?” You reminded him of himself. Tucked away in a sewer was the same as being on top of a mountain. No distractions, no arguments, no nuisances — apart from his men. Your plump lips pressed together as you pondered his words.

“I like the quiet.” He almost smiled. His heavy, harsh breaths filled the silent room. He didn’t pry further, he sensed that was the best answer he’d be able to get from you. “Why are you on the run from the law?” Your question made him freeze. The hand on your wrist shifted before falling away from you.

“I’m not on the run.” He explained. “I’m simply hiding out while my home is invaded.”

“For a month?” His eyes shot to you. Where did this bravery come from? He was use to your silence.

“For as long as it takes.” His tone was deeper, harsher, a cue for you to be quiet and stop asking so many questions. You did so without much complaint.

The rag in your hand was dropped in the dirty clothes basket beside the counter. Fingertips skimming the handle, you inspected the amount of washing you had to do before with a soft hum, you shut the lid and looked toward the man. He was fixated on staring at the steaming pot of coffee. He eyed the droplets of condensation that raced along the sides of the glass before, when he felt your prying eyes, he looked toward you. The both of you stared at one another, blue eyes latched on to pools of curiosity. He tipped his head to the side, a silent inquiry, but you didn’t speak. Your hand traced the counter as you passed before you dipped out of the room and moved into the den.

Reading was your favorite part of the day. Curled up on the edge of the sofa with your elbow on the arm and your finger twisted around a lock of your hair. Bane would eventually set a glass of lemonade down on the coffee table when he passed, no words exchanged, just a glance before he made his way outside. You were growing to enjoy his company. It wasn’t threatening like it had been when he’d first arrived. You sat, glasses low on the bridge of your nose with a yellow-covered book opened on your lap. It was easy to get lost in the story, absentmindedly drinking the beverage he had grown accustomed to making for you. Not too sweet, not too sour. This was how you stayed for majority of the day, only disappearing into the kitchen when it was time to make dinner.

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been so lonely that this — getting along with intruders — was your only means of happiness.

It was a week later when a fourth intruder showed up. You were stood in the corridor, adjusting the crooked framed that hung on the tan walls. Family didn’t reside in the frames, images of flowers or pretty scenery’s did. You had a habit of fixing what didn’t necessarily need to be fixed. You’d stand in the hall for an hour, adjusting the angle repeatedly until you’d found it in yourself to stop. But today Bane stopped you.

His grip on you was harsh and rough, unrelenting in its secure hold. He shoved you into the bedroom and shut the door loudly. Your words fell on deaf ears, eyes wide and desperate. Demanding to know what the hell he was doing and why he was holding you so aggressively.

“Shut up.” Bane hissed out. His hand lifted to your mouth, covering it swiftly with his palm. You whimpered against his flesh. His skin was rough, dry, but it smelled pleasant. The scent of burning wood filled your nostrils, it was stained in his flesh from all the heavy-lifting he’d been doing earlier that week. “Listen to me.” Their was a hidden warning in his tone. “Listen.” He shook you roughly, noting the faraway look in your eye. “That man,” monster. “will not hesitate to take advantage of you.” Your chest lifted with your shaky inhale. “And damned as I am, I’m nowhere near as bad as he is,” His grip on you slackened in the slightest. “so you’d better learn and learn quick, that you’re going to have to play my little game.” Confusion swam in your gaze, words building in your throat as you prepped yourself to ask for clarification.

“Bane!” A chortle sounded from the opposite side of the door. “Come on out, now, I just wanna see her.” The doorknob rattled beneath the frantic grip of whomever the bloke was on the other side.

“I don’t share.” Bane was much calmer. His eyes were glued to yours as he spoke up. “Let her be, Zander, she’s of no use to you.” You pulled your bottom lip in so you could suckle on it, chest beginning to heave. Your mouth opened again, ready to speak, but Zander beat you to it.

“A hostage is a hostage. That’s shared territory.” The entire door shook again. “Now let me in!” Bane lifted his hand to his face. Tracing the mask that covered his lips, his eyes closed. He doubted you’d pick up on what he was hinting at because of how silly he felt, he was incapable of bluntly saying ‘act like you’re with me’. No matter what though, he wouldn’t let Zander hurt you. He felt oddly attached. Bane shifted slowly before moving his calloused fingers to your soft cheek. He traced the warm surface, eyes gliding between your shimmering orbs. The door flew open, effectively ruining the moment. Zander stepped forward, tongue hungrily tracing his lips which were very much accessible and easy to use — unlike Bane’s. “Come here, darling, I don’t bite.” He snickered loudly.

Bane gripped your hand and drew you into his chest. His eyes warned you to search for some common sense, and once you’d found it, you did all that you could think of to do. Your body lifted, tiptoes steadily supporting your weight. Your hands found the sides of his cheeks and your mouth pressed against his. To tear the thing off and kiss him like you should was too risky. Afterall, nobody knew what would happen. Despite the fact that bane couldn’t feel your lips, he could feel your chest as it pressed to his own. Your shallow breaths and warm fingertips. He hooked his arm around you and held you close to him.

“Now, now.” Zander cut in once more. “Let me have a taste.” Bane drew back sharply, fingers sinking into your lower back.

“Out, Zander. I said, she’s not to be messed with.” The tone of voice made it clear that Bane was being serious. The warmth from his fingertips seeped through the blouse you wore. “Go.” He nudged you gently to the corner. “Sit.” You blindly moved backward, but you kept a close eye on the man in the doorway who hadn’t tore his eyes from your body. You moved to the bed, dropping down on the edge of it before you pressed your knees together and watched the scene unfold.

“Since when do you care about a hostage?” Zander inquired. Undoing the gloves that were laced securely around his wrists, he tucked the leathered material away into the deep pocket of his coat before finally looking toward Bane. Bane was his boss and whatever the man said went, but Zander was known to be disobedient. He loved trouble.

“We don’t hurt women.” Bane ground out. The entire room seemingly shook beneath the force of his footsteps. The lamp in the corner unsteadily wobbled and the stack of books threatened to collapse on the floor. “We don’t even take women. This was accidental. The house was suppose to be empty.”

“But it weren’t.” Zander ushered to you.

You pulled your bottom lip in nervously. Trying to tune the men out was impossible. You were picking up on everything they said. They didn’t typically take women as hostages — and the only reason they’d taken you is because you were inside the house. Your fingers itched, you wanted to bury them in your ears and drown out their deep voices. But that made you look weak and you were far from that. The bed creaked beneath your movements, crumpled comforter tempting to grab ahold of to bite back the nerves in your stomach. You eyed Zander.

Freckles coated his skin. Every inch of his face cradled a brown spot. His nose was covered the most, pointed like a witch’s nose. His eyes were seemingly kind, green and bright, but the deeper you looked, the more deceitful they became. Black locks, sprinkled with speckles of sand from where it looked like he’d been rolling around in the dirt outside. His cheeks held extra fat, chubby opposed to hollow. It was a characteristic most people seemed to have, no sunken, hollow spaces, just a rounded surface. Red hue’s coated his skin which gave him the effect of a blushing schoolboy or a tantrum-throwing toddler. His teeth were missing in various places, snaggled in the places where they still resided. He had long eyelashes, and a scar along one of his eyelids. You were sure he would’ve been rather charming if his personality didn’t absolutely clash with his appearance. Externally he was nice to look at, but his personality made him absolutely hideous. You tore your eyes away from him when he took a step forward. His chest was visible through the shirt he wore, undone down to the middle of his rib cage. More scars could be seen in the gaps of the thin fabric. He looked about 27, as precise as that was, he didn’t look old enough to be 30, and he carried too many bags beneath his eyes and pain in his gaze to be younger.

Bane defensively stepped to the side to halt the man from going any further. Bane. He was at least mid-30’s. His cheeks weren’t chubby, but they weren’t hollow like the movie star’s. He had scars on his back, deep gashes that were deeply embedded in the tough tissue. You’d seen them when he’d removed his shirt for bed — rarely doing so — only when it was a particularly hot night. His scalp was bald. He didn’t ever shave it though, so you assumed it just didn’t grow. His skin, though it appeared rough, was soft. You’d spent countless nights tracing the bulging biceps when you couldn’t sleep. It was absentminded, just little caresses you’d given him because you couldn’t give yourself over to exhaustion. He liked the touches. Goosebumps would rise on his skin, visible and feelable beneath your fingertips. It wasn’t like you were sleeping with him, but you might as well have been. Oscar and Larry thought you were, seeing as bane was far too protective over a hostage.

Mornings were spent on the porch, tucked away on the sturdy swing. It was a long bench, one that held you and bane with no problem. He had a tendency to lay his arms out wide, opened so you could lay against his side with your head on his shoulder and a coffee mug in your hands, cradled to your chest. He protected you from the cool breezes that accompanied the rising sun.

He helped you with gardening. With fixing lunch. With cleaning. He was always a step behind you, lurking and following like a lost puppy. At first, you’d been threatened. You’d felt like you had no space and like the man simply didn’t trust you, but now, it was comforting. He wasn’t doing the tasks because he didn’t want to awkwardly stand, he wanted to be helpful. He wanted to take some of the stress off your shoulders. You didn’t feel like a hostage anymore and that alone scared you more than the fear in your belly at the present moment.

Zander inhaled deeply. The sound was infused with annoyance. He clearly wasn’t going to get to you, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He took a small step backward before narrowing his eyes when bane spoke up again.

“I won’t tell you again to let her be.” He pressed his closed fist against his opened palm, cracking his stiff knuckles. “And if you dare try anything, I promise, I will not hesitate to kill you.” The threat wasn’t empty. Friends made the same threats. Siblings did. Family members, threatening playfully to harm another human with no true intention of following through. Amusement would trickle in the words, alerting whomever one was speaking to that ‘ill kill you’ was another way of saying, ‘seriously, don’t do this’. But bane was serious. The threat was low and heavy. The very words made a shiver run along your spine. It was evident Zander believed him, but you still saw the tint of want in the boy’s gaze. Bane clenched his jaw before watching as the bloke left the room.

His heavy boot kicked the wood shut. It didn’t close perfectly because zander had broken the hinges, but it closed enough. Bane turned around to face you, expression softening and tense body relaxing. He made his way toward you, boots thudding against the carpet quietly before he lowered himself down at your side.

“He won’t mess with you.” Bane was positive.

“You don’t know that.” Your voice shook in the slightest. “He could sneak in when you’re sleeping, or sneak up on me when you’re out.” Bane shook his head lightly.

“That boy isn’t going to mess with you.” He reiterated. “I promise.” His hand found yours, resting on the bed. He gripped it gently, tenderly. Your ears stung with his previous words of this being a ‘little game’, but then, tucked away in private, why was he still touching you? His palm was rough to the touch as he lazily caressed your skin. For such a mean and powerful person, he was tender with you in his own way. Part of you wondered if he just loved ownership and possession, but even if that were the case, you weren’t sure you’d be bothered. He wasn’t treating you bad. Your eyes closed and your body shuffled closer to his own, seeking the comfort he was attempting to offer. His arm opened, ushering you into his chest so he could hold you. The touches were beginning to linger. The confidence was growing stronger. The man was falling for his hostage and you, the hostage, were falling for your kidnapper. He wasn’t holding you captive any longer though. He felt like more of a roommate than an enemy.

—

The house was silent. Some time during the night, Bane had laid back against the mattress and your sleepy body had followed. Tucked away beneath the warmth of the duvet, your body wrapped around his securely. He felt like he had two blankets on top of him instead of just one. His hand rested on your lower back, your leg thrown over his own so you could rest comfortably. The birds outside cawed noisily as they soared above your home, wings flapping as they flew through the night. The wind whistled loudly, shaking the trees so the branches dropped the endless amount of leaves.

Zander was sat on the porch with Oscar, eyes glued to the stars above.

“We’ll have our way with her.” He grumbled out. His words were quiet and slurred because of the alcohol he’d consumed. His bare feet shuffled against the patio, cement drenched in dirt which effectively stained the bottoms of his feet. He looked toward the silent man at his side before shoving his shoulder when he didn’t get any words of encouragement or agreement. Oscar folded his arms.

“You’re on your own, mate. Bane made it clear, she’s not to be touched.” To his left, Larry stood, pocketknife switched open so he could use the blade to pick at the dirt under his fingernails. He looked over his shoulder when he realized what the topic of discussion was. His eyes rolled.

“I’d be careful, Zander.” Larry spoke. “Oscar’s right. We tried to mess with her.” He turned. “And it didn’t turn out so good.” The moonlight illuminated the gash on Larry’s face. Zander hadn’t seen it before, but it was because he hadn’t been given a chance. Now though, the moon’s rays danced along the bloke’s skin. The wound was recently inflicted because it was scabbed and in the process of healing. Zander grunted out in annoyance.

“He’s not doing her.” He shook his head. “He’s just making sure you two ain’t either. I seen the way she was looking at him. Unsure. Ain’t no girl gonna look at a man like that - not unless she’s afraid she i’nt safe.” He set the bottle of liquor down between his ankles before slouching. His knee lazily bounced, head spinning with the various different ways he could have his way with you. They all involved luring Bane away.

Oscar exchanged a look with Larry. They didn’t want any trouble and Zander, well he was nothing but. Oscar lowered his hand to his pocket and pinched the pieces of fruit he’d sliced earlier that day. Popping a piece of Apple past his lips, he munched loudly on the crunchy treat before standing.

“I don’t want no part in this.” He made it clear. “You try anything and it’ll be your body we’re burying.” He stepped over the clutter of empty beer bottles and moved back into the house. He’d learned quickly, after watching the blade in bane’s hand slice his best friend’s face that you were off limits. And he wasn’t going to complain. It was in these moments, when another idiot was present, one with no sense at all, that he realized the error of his ways. Messing with you wouldn’t do him any good. Teaming up with Zander would lead to two dead bodies instead of one. He swallowed thickly before making his way toward the kitchen so he could drop down at the table. He was going to mind his own business.

Larry was hot on his heels. His footsteps weren’t as quiet, they were noisy and flooded the length of the house, no doubt waking the slumbering couple down the hall. He didn’t think the two of you were screwing either, but he didn’t doubt that there was something going on. Lingering touches. Soft caresses. He’d seen the looks the pair of you gave each other. A sense of longing lingered in the kitchen each time the two of you were stood close, but not close enough. He joined Oscar at the table before letting out a loud sigh.

“We gotta get rid of him.” The bloke whispered to Oscar. “He’s gonna cause too much trouble.”

Bane shifted a dramatic amount of times because of the footsteps. His body rolled this way and that, flexed arm tugging you along with him when he found a different position to lay in. You let out a soft sound of discomfort, a quiet whimper to tell him to be still. He heaved a loud huff, a puff of air as he sat up. His arm was still buried beneath you, your head tucked away in the crook of his elbow.

“Be still.” You mumbled out tiredly, hot breaths wafting over his chest. Your hand moved along his stomach, small body wiggling to be closer to his own. Bane peered down at you, breaths noisier because of the silent room and the mask he wore.

“Can’t get comfy.” He told you as softly as he could. He didn’t want to disrupt your sleep, just because he couldn’t figure out how to lay. You opened your eyes. They were so droopy, threatening to flutter shut as you stared up at him. You let out a quiet hum before lazily rolling on to your side, back to him.

“Come here.” He listened without hesitation. The front of his chest molded against your back, arm hooking securely around your waist as he shuffled forward. Spooning was always much nicer for him than it was for you, you had a hard time sleeping stiffly on your side, but you could handle it for tonight. Bane let out a breathy sigh of relief, fingertips tracing your stomach as he thanked you. You let out a quiet hum before gripping his large hand with your own. He fit against you like a missing piece to a puzzle, perfectly joining together when you were pushed into place.

You envisioned him pressing half-asleep kisses against the side of your neck. His lips were full, pink, wet from his constant urge to lick them. You imagined he was a terrific kisser and a constant one.

A little frown etched itself onto your lips and a quiet humph of disappointment left your lips. You squirmed in the slightest before involuntarily whimpering.

“We don’t have to lay like this.” He started, but your grip on him silenced him instantly.

“No.. I’m comfortable.” You assured him. You didn’t speak further, but you could feel the question lingering in the air, though he hadn’t asked yet. ‘Why did you whimper?’ “Bane..” You looked over your shoulder. It didn’t seem right to pry, nor did you even think you should be asking such a question, but in your tired state of mind, you didn’t think much on it. “Did you ever kiss anyone? Before you got that thing on your face.”

He shook his head. His eyes were closed.

“Didn’t you ever want to?” You spoke again.

One of his eyes opened at your question. His hand moved to your lips, fingers pressing against them to silence you before he turned your head back forward and hushed you by holding you tighter. The silence didn’t last before you spoke again.

“I think.. I’d like to kiss you.” Your words made both of his eyes open. He wiggled briefly, an action to express his shyness.

“What on earth are you on about?” He uttered gruffly.

“I’m on about wishing you didn’t have that thing on your face.” The bed creaked as you rolled over to face him. Leaning up on your elbow, you moved your fingertips to the mask and lazily began to trace it. He eyed you in confusion. Not only were your words random, but his brain had never screamed ‘hostage’ louder than it was now. “Does it come off?”

Bane shifted. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to remove it.” Your fingers brushed along the bottom of it. You wouldnt try to remove it for fear that it would kill him. He clearly wore it for a reason. Your fingers moved away from his mask and instead to his throat. Caressing his jugular, you traced his Adam’s apple before leaning up. Closing the space between the two of you, your mouth pressed against the mask. Your leg, already thrown over one of his thighs, bent so you could lift yourself up and on top of him. He was laid on his back because of all your moving and now, you straddled one of his legs, hands placed on either side of him. He didn’t ask questions, he merely gazed up at you and let you do as you pleased. His leg bent slightly, becoming a perfect seat for you to lower yourself down on. Mix that with the fact that your lips were inching toward his ear and you have a heavily breathing bear laid beneath you. You could tell that your touches made him sensitive. Your mouth grazed his ear, hips lowering so you sat firmly on his thigh.

You sunk your hips down more firmly and against his own before slowly beginning to rock on his thigh. Bane was instantly filled with confusion over how you’d gone from ‘I wish I could kiss you’ to ‘I’ll settle for humping your thigh’, but he didn’t stop you. His wide palm found your hip, cradling it as you began to rock your body in a steady rhythm. Your mouth closed around his ear lobe, gently suckling on the flesh before nipping at it with your teeth. Bane’s eyes fluttered before rolling. The feel of a woman’s lips on his body was foreign. He could barely hold his eyes open.

You rubbed yourself against him harder, teeth clasping down on your cheek as you angled your body perfectly. The action of grinding made the bundle of nerves between your legs extremely sensitive and the longer you gave in to the friction his leg offered, the louder your moans grew and the closer to orgasm you found yourself. Bane was impatient though. He wanted to flip you over and shove himself inside you. He wanted to screw you to the point that you wondered if he hated you. Lost in his thoughts, he briefly lost his self control. His hand curled around your throat and as swiftly as he’d spooned you, he’d flipped you over and pinned you to the bed. You still had the ability to grind against his thigh, only now you had a hand around your throat, squeezing and cradling as he stared down at you with readable eyes. So many emotions waltzed together in those pools. You bit your bottom lip, hands moving to his arms as he let out a low growl. Your vision was growing starry and you didn’t know if it was because you were losing consciousness or because you were nearing orgasm, but you figured it was a little bit of both.

The room around you began to darken and the man on top of you was beginning to groan. You could feel how he adjusted himself, switching his thigh for his crotch so the pair of you could grind against each other instead. He pulled your thighs around his hips and hid his face in your neck. The room around you went black and you felt like you were floating.

—

Sweat. It covered your skin like the man had the night before. You woke under the impression that you had bruises on your throat from his strong grip and achy thighs from how harshly he’d been buried between them. But your throat didn’t hurt and your thighs weren’t sore. You pulled your lips in and looked to the vacant space beside you. The rapid beating of your heart told you that the sex that had taken place had merely been a dream. You didn’t have the courage to climb on top of your captor and grind against him confidently. He hadn’t flipped you over and cradled your throat so firmly, but delicately. He hadn’t pushed himself between your thighs and buried himself inside you like you were craving for him to do now. The skin of your cheeks was hot and the thumping of your heart grew louder. You’d dreamt it up.

“Put him outside.” Bane’s voice filled the hall. “Now. I don’t want her seeing this.” You looked toward the door before slowly, quickly, laying back down. Flipping over and on to your side so your back was to the door, you eyed the wall in confusion. It had felt so real. “Because I said so..” He halted in the hall. “Right. That’s what I thought.” The sound of the door slamming filled your home and then you could hear bane approaching once more.

Larry and Oscar looked to each other before hunching over. Larry had Zander’s feet and Oscar had his shoulders. Blood was spattered along the walls and floor. The bench dripped with the sticky substance. The men hobbled, carrying the lifeless form toward the dirt in the distance. Zander had been murdered, by which bloke, Bane didn’t know, but whichever had done it refused to fess up.

You sleepily rolled over when Bane entered the room, attempting to make it look like you’d just woken. He slowed the second that you came into view. His lips twitched upward, blue eyes meeting your own. Bane was more than aware of the dream you’d had, seeing as you were quite loud in your sleep, but he didn’t say anything about it, he simply moved toward the bed.

“Morning.” He seemed much calmer.

“It is.” You nodded before looking toward the ceiling. “Sleep good?” You spoke up quietly before sitting up on the bed.

“I did,” He nodded before pulling off his vest. “Did you?” His lips twitched. “Thought you might’ve been having a nightmare.” He watched the way your body fidgeted before smirking to himself when you looked to him shyly.

“A nightmare? No.. no, I had a very um.. it was a very nice dream actually.” You stated before climbing off the bed. His hand caught yours, gentle as you passed. He hauled you back and into him before eyeing you intently.

“Sounded like you were in pain. Whimpering all night long.” He didn’t mention that you’d moaned out his name, or that you’d been lazily rocking your body for the entirety of the night. You looked up at him, eyes scanning his. He was clueless, you decided.

“No.. don’t worry. I must’ve been trying to talk and couldn’t get my words out.” Your explanation only made his ego boost significantly. You’d enjoyed what you’d dreamt of.

“Well,” His thumb lifted to your chin. “so long as you’re alright.” He traced your soft flesh before looking to the door. He could’ve teased you all morning, dragging out how you truly felt about your dream, but instead he switched the topic. “Zander is dead.” The words made your body slump. “Don’t know who did it. But woke to the boys standing over him. Could’ve been a wild animal.” It wasn’t. “Or maybe one of them drunkenly stabbed it.” Not drunkenly. “Not sure, but.. we don’t have to worry about him now.” Relief filled you because you didn’t have to stress over looking over your shoulder every five seconds, and then sadness because you had no excuse to kiss and touch Bane. He seemed unbothered which told you all you needed to know. He didn’t feel the same. But the hand he let linger on your face told you differently. It silenced all other thoughts.

“Dead?” You whispered.

“Buried.” He confirmed. His hand fell from your face to your arm. Tracing the length of it, he studied your expression. He had no reason to stay, he realized as he stood in front of you. No reason but because of you. “Oscar and Larry are leaving. I don’t know why or what’s gotten into them, but they made it clear they’re ready to go.” Your brows twitched.

“So you’re going too?” He wasnt sure if your eagerness was out of stress because you wanted him to stay, or if it was a shove for him to get to the exit now.

“No.” He folded his arms then, waiting for your response. “No, they have places to go apart from the sewer. I, on the other hand, do not.” You bit your bottom lip and tried to contain the second wave of relief that flooded you.

“That’s fine.” Your eyes fluttered. He almost smiled at the way you calmed. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to make you like him the way that you so clearly did, but he was grateful for it. Because he returned those feelings.

The room was silent, just the pair of you stood in front of one another and the faint sound of Larry and Oscar burying Zander’s body in the yard. You didn’t care that Zander was deceased. You didnt care that the murderer was in your house. All you cared about was the man stood in front of you and how you were going to make your vivid dream come true.

———————————————————————

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[nikanndros]

the high-school fake dating au part 6

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

The weird thing about this lie -- dating Damen -- is that it’s easy. Being expected to act a certain role every moment he’s at school should be tiring and annoying, but every time Damen aims that light-up-the-world grin in Laurent’s direction, or takes his hand in a way that seems natural, or just looks at him for an opinion, well… Laurent forgets he’s acting. The next couple of weeks seem to go by easily.

“Hey,” Damen says, at lunch one day. “Do you want to hang out this afternoon?”

“Sure,” Laurent replies. He takes the opportunity to steal half of Damen’s sandwich --his mum even bakes the bread herself -- and then his brain catches up with him. “Wait, what, why?”

Damen shrugs. “Why not?”

And that’s that. After school they pick Nicaise up and then when they get to Laurent’s place, Damen gets out of the car with them.

Luckily his mother isn’t home, and Nicaise is smart enough to run off to his own room and not get involved

“Do you want something to eat?” Laurent asks.

“No thanks,” Damen smiles.

There’s a pause. “Cool.” Laurent says, awkwardly. “Okay. What do you want to do?”

“What do you usually do after school?”

Replay in his mind all the ways Damen looked at him that day? Laurent shrugs. “We can hang out in my room.”

Damen spends awhile looking around Laurent’s bedroom; he seems generally interested in the bookshelf and all the photos of his family on his desk, and the little stuffed fox that Auguste bought him when he was a baby with hard-earned pocket money.

“It’s really weird having an afternoon off,” Damen says. “Now that I’ve quit football, I mean. You live with your mum and your brothers, right?”

“Yeah. And you’re an only child.” With two perfect parents, as the whole town knows. Damen’s dad is some big-shot lawyer or something, he commutes into the city and it’s obvious in his fancy car and big house.

“...actually,” Damen says, looking away. He moves over to Laurent’s desk. “Um, it turns out that I have a brother.”

“Your mum is pregnant?” She’s kind of old for that, Laurent thinks.

“No, my mum can’t have any more babies. I was meant to be the miracle child.” That makes sense in the way that Damen’s mother so clearly dotes on him, and his father has evidently been pushing him into extracurriculars and clubs since he could walk.

Then Laurent thinks about what Damen is actually saying. “Oh. You mean your dad…?”

Damen nods. “It was before I was born, and apparently mum knew about the, um, affair, and they got past it. They just didn’t know that the other-- that she was pregnant. And then Kastor, that’s my brother, he’s like twenty-eight, his mother died so he decided to try and find out who his father was. He just like, showed up one day during summer break and he was really mad when he saw the house, and my mum and-and me.”

“That’s a lot,” Laurent says, because he’s not really sure what to say or why Damen is telling him this at all.

“Yeah,” Damen frowns. “My dad wanted to send Kastor away but that upset my mum and everything is really awkward in my house.”

“That sounds terrible,” Laurent says.

“I haven’t even told my dad that I quit football yet. I think he’s going to freak out.”

Laurent’s quiet for a moment. “You could always rejoin. The coach will let you back on, the team has no chance without the four of you.”

“Yeah, he offered to let me back on the team,” Damen says. “I told him I won’t until he apologises and makes Chauvin apologise for being homophobic.”

Laurent nods. “This isn’t-- this dating thing, it’s not even real. It’s not meant to be making your life harder. I didn’t know that you had so much going on already. And we couldn’t predict it would go like this, so if you want to--”

“I don’t want to break up,” Damen says.

He says it firmly, confidently, and it even makes Laurent’s heart jump a little even though it’s not real. Still. It’s not real. “You’re so nice,” Laurent says suddenly. “I think you’re the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. But really, you don’t have to do this. It goes way beyond, like, the charitable call of duty or whatever.”

“I’m not being charitable,” Damen replies. “I-” He breaks off, and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s unfair that he looks good even like this - frowning thoughtfully and curls a mess. He’s so constantly beautiful that it’s ridiculous. Laurent can’t possibly be expected to be in his company like this and not entertain fantasies of pushing him back onto the bed and climbing into his lap, and then-- Damen’s still talking. Right. “I like spending time with you,” he’s saying. “You’re really cool. I’ve always thought you were cool and I wanted to be friends with you before now but… I just mean that I like what we’re doing and we don’t have to stop because you think I don’t.”

I should kiss him, Laurent thinks, a little hysterically. He can’t handle hearing such nice things, and the urge is really strong. And maybe Damen will reject him and freak out, or maybe -- and it’s definitely seeming more likely -- Damen will kiss him back.

Damen is looking down at him with his beautiful eyes, and that dumb lock of hair that always falls in front of his forehead, and Laurent takes a step forward, and --

The door bursts open. “What are you doing?!” Auguste announces in a gleeful voice.

Laurent immediately jumps away and spins to face his brother, in a mixture of shock and horror. “Why are you home?!”

He can hear Nicaise cackling with laughter from down the hallway.

Auguste steps into the room, grinning. He’s still in his work clothes and everything. “I had to rush home when I heard my darling brother had a boy in his room with no-one to supervise. What would the neighbours think?”

“Nicaise,” Laurent yells, “I’m going to murder you.”

Nicaise is still laughing, so clearly the threat isn’t that intimidating.

“Um,” Damen says. “Hi. I’m Damen.”

Auguste’s smile immediately drops and he gives Damen a searching look. “Hmm,” Auguste says. “And what are your intentions with my brother?”

Laurent tries manfully to shove his stupid older sibling back out the door. “You promised you wouldn’t embarrass me,” Laurent hisses.

“I’m not being embarrassing,” Auguste says. He’s not even budging, despite Laurent’s efforts. “Do you think less of Laurent because I care for his well-being, Damen?”

“I think it’s nice.” Damen is so sweet, he’s probably being genuine.

“Thank you. Now let me interrogate you.”

He pushes past Laurent to come properly into the room, while Laurent scowls. “You will pay for this,” he says, darkly.

“My intentions are good,” Damen says.

“Have you deflowered my little brother yet?”

“Oh my God,” Laurent mutters.

Damen, who approaches everything with a calm, unashamed confidence, instantly turns red. It’s shocking that it’s even apparent through his dark complexion. “Um,” Damen says. “No.”

“Why not?” Auguste sounds affronted. “Is he not pretty enough for you?”

“No, he’s very beautiful.”

“Oh, so looks are all that matter?”

“No? What?”

“Auguste, stop,” Laurent says, shaking his head. “He’s joking, Damen, please relax.”

Auguste pouts at Laurent. “I was having fun.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Damen is looking at Laurent for guidance.

“Auguste, leave.”

“Okay,” Auguste says. “On one condition.”

“What.”

Auguste gives Laurent a pleading look. “Will you make me some coffee? You know you make it the best.”

“Do it yourself,” Laurent says.

“But I’m so tired, after a long day of working hard to keep food on the table and supporting--”

“Okay!” Laurent is already turning for the stairs.

He’s quick about it so Damen and Auguste aren’t left alone together for too long. It takes no time until he’s trudging back up the stairs, mug of coffee in his hand.

He can hear them talking in low voices when he quietly approaches his bedroom door. He’s being quiet on purpose, of course, he’s going to take this opportunity to eavesdrop.

“...wouldn’t tell me about it,” comes Auguste’s voice. He sounds serious.

“Um,” Damen is hesitating. “It’s not-- bad, bad. We can handle it.”

“But people are being dicks about it,” Auguste sighs.

There’s a pause, and Laurent is about to interrupt when Damen speaks again. “I know it’s not the kind of situation you want Laurent to be in, but I can at least promise that I’m not going to leave him to face any of it alone. I’ll do everything I can for Laurent.”

“Jord said that you only came out after the school found out about Laurent?” Laurent was going to find out who Jord’s mystery girlfriend was and tell her to shut her mouth.

“It wouldn’t have been fair to let Laurent deal with all the fallout  alone over something that’s also true about me.” Damen sounds earnestly sincere, which is…

Okay, maybe Damen actually did truly mean it when he implied he could be bi. That’s a thought. Nikandros did specifically say that he’d looked into the school handbook when he ‘found out Damen wasn’t straight’ -- it would have been easier to say ‘since last night’ if that had been what he’d meant, which kind of suggests that he found out about Damen before the dating plan had even been made.

The more Laurent works this through in his head, the more he likes the idea. If Damen actually is bi, then this dating scheme is more than an act of pity. It’s about something personal about them that they share, an otherness that makes it hard to openly connect with other people in the current circumstances.

Laurent has been kind of in love with Damen forever. The thought that it could potentially be reciprocated one day is a lot.

Laurent stalks into his room and shoves the coffee at his brother. “Here,” he says, “Get out.”

Auguste is a terrible actor so his smile is filled with a concern that he’s obviously trying to hide. “You’re the best” he says, making his exit. “If you hurt my brother,” Auguste calls out during his retreat, “I’ll murder you, Damen.”

“Acknowledged,” Damen calls back. He’s actually grinning. That’s nice. Laurent likes the idea of his boyfriend and his brother getting along. His fake boyfriend. His currently fake boyfriend. As easy as that, Laurent has come up with a new plan. He’s going to use this farce as an opportunity to make Damen fall in love with him.

“I should probably go,” Damen says reluctantly, looking back at Laurent.

Laurent smiles at him. “Sure, I’ll walk you out.”

Laurent walks him all the way to his car.

“Thanks for letting me hang with you,” Damen says.

“Of course,” Laurent replies. “You can come over whenever, you know. On Tuesdays, if you don’t want to tell your dad about football, or at other times. We are meant to be dating, so it would be weird if we didn’t spend time with each other.”

Damen looks delighted by this. He’s so beautiful. Laurent thinks of before, in his room, when he’d taken that step closer. He thinks about what could have happened if Auguste hadn’t barged in. “I’m sorry about my brother,” Laurent says. “He’s really nosy.”

“He cares about you.”

Laurent nods. “He’s probably watching out the window now at us,” Laurent prompts.

Damen turns his head to look.

“Don’t look,” Laurent says. “But you should probably kiss me goodbye.”

Damen blinks at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” Laurent feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest.

He doesn’t know what to expect -- he’s woefully inexperienced in things of this nature -- but Damen doesn’t seem to have any hesitations. He steps forward so that they’re almost chest to chest and then reaches out and brushes some of Laurent’s hair out of his face. It’s an unexpectedly tender gesture and it leads to Damen cupping his face. Laurent instinctively leans into it.

Damen is looking at him in a way that Laurent can’t describe, but the eye-contact in an intimate moment like this is almost unbearable. He wants to look away but he can’t. He wouldn’t forgive himself for missing a second of this. Then Damen is leaning in and, it barely lasts for a second but their lips touch. Laurent’s eyes flutter closed without thought, and then he’s pressing forward as Damen moves back -- possibly to break the kiss, Laurent realises belatedly -- but then he seems to get with the picture and the peck extends into something more.

God, Laurent really should have recommended that they practice making out if this is what it feels like. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, but Damen’s lips move with an ease and it’s easy to copy and reciprocate.

Then the long, unmeasurable moment ends and Laurent is blinking his eyes open to meet Damen’s again. They haven’t stepped apart.

“Goodbye,” Damen says, finally, and there’s a changed quality in the tone of his voice that Laurent wants to investigate thoroughly.

“Goodbye,” Laurent echoes, faintly.

Yes, Laurent decides, watching as Damen drives away. This confirms it. His main goal from now on is to make sure there’s nothing fake in the way that they are dating by the year’s end. He’s fairly confident that it won’t even be that hard.

[whatmack]

UR MATTNEIL....... I MSOBBING

!!!!! AHHH had to post this rn bc it was really getting too long for how I’m formatting this series (why doth my fingers write with such long winds): have some loving neil hours in this house

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“You’re going to be a hot mess,” Allison promises over the phone.“Thanks,” Neil says sardonically, juggling the phone to his other shoulder sohe can fit another piece into the puzzle spread over the coffee table. Andrewhas made a game of finding the most psychedelic, difficult to look at puzzleshe can and spreading them over useful surfaces. He gets bored with themquickly, so they remain half-finished unless Neil makes an effort to completethem.“You know I love you,” says Allison. “But you’ve been dating one person, sincelike, forever. You’re like a little baby bird again.”Neil’s fairly certain that’s another insult. He squints at a swirl of glitterypink and tries to see if the shape matches any of the loose pieces he’sarranged in front of him. “It’s Matt.”“Exactly,” Allison coos. “I was there when he won Dan. You have no idea whatyou’re in for, chickadee. No, Parker, down!”Rustling and barking come through the other end. Renee and Allison arefostering hypoallergenic seeing eye dogs, because Renee is a good person andAllison gets hives around anything with fur. Allison pretends she hates the work.Neil sees through her. He’s had practice.“But we already know each other,” Neil says, pushing sternly down on theanxiety rising in his chest. He tries a piece against the edge of the pinkswirl. Nope. “It’s not like we have to make a good impression.”“Just you wait,” Allison says ominously, which doesn’t help Neil’s anxiety atall.Thankfully Neil is too tired to be nervous when he gets off the plane,stumbling from the baggage claim into Dan and Matt’s waiting arms. Checkingbaggage is old hat by now, and he spares a thought to wonder at it as he letsDan sling the case protecting his Exy stick over her back and Matt take overhis carry-on. He falls asleep on Matt’s shoulder in the back seat.

He gets set up in the guest bedroom, same as usual, and it’s not until the nextmorning that Neil thinks to wonder if he should’ve expected to stay in themaster with Matt (and Dan). He flips over onto his back and stares up at thestippled ceiling. It’s not like he’s never slept beside them before, during Foxsleepovers or accidental naps on the couch. Thinking about doing the same thingnow, in this context, gives rise to a squirmy feeling that isn’t quitecomfortable. Not bad, but not good, either. He decides he’s glad he slept inthe guest bedroom this time.The smell of coffee and frying butter beckons him from the kitchen. Neil wrapshimself in a blanket (Matt likes the apartment so cold, he and Dan agree it’s terrible) and makes his way into theopen. Dan is flipping pancakes on the stove, Matt reading from his phone at thetable. Matt’s eyes light up when he sees Neil.“I was hoping I would catch you before I had to leave today! Good morning,” headds as an afterthought, scooting his chair over to leave room for Neil. Neilgrabs the open seat and sits in it crosslegged, drawing the blanket up over hishead. He makes eyes at the three mugs waiting by the coffee maker.“I’m hungry,” Matt whines, leaning back to nuzzle his face into Dan’s back. Shepokes him with the butt of the spatula, shooting Neil a look that says can you believe this guy?“You rush pancakes, you get shit pancakes,” she says. “I know how to cook onething and I’m gonna do it right. Morning, Neil. Coffee?”“Yes.”Matt has practice for most of the day (he’s apologetic, which Neil finds silly,because he’s the last person to think that’s a bad excuse), but it’s a schoolholiday so Dan stays at the apartment with Neil and her playbook. Shegravitates from the table to the couch to the floor to the table again,watching replays on her laptop and taking copious notes. There are fivedifferent pens in her hair before she starts running out of space.With the nonstop rush Neil’s life usually is, Neil is happy to take upresidence spread-eagle in the middle of the rug. He rambles on to Dan about histeammates. He flips through channels until he finds a sepia-steeped Westernmovie and decides it’s good enough. He texts Andrew, and gets back a picture ofthe new cat (whom Matt has finally decided to name “Thunderkick 3000;” Neil andAndrew usually just call him “Teddy”) hanging from a claw snagged in Andrew’sarmband. Dan calls him over for his opinion on her players, and Neil advisesher happily. Though she does keep reminding him that these are freshmen, nothis professional colleagues. Neil keeps reminding her that they’ve got to learn sometime.He doesn’t remember to be nervous until Dan points to the threadbare shirt andpair of (Andrew’s) sweatpants he’s been wearing all day and asks, “Matt’salmost home. Is that really what you’re going out in tonight?”A swift kick to the gut would make him less suddenly nauseous. Neil knows fromexperience. “I don’t know where we’re going.”“He didn’t say to dress fancy,” Dan says, propping her hands on her hips andscanning Neil from head to toe. Neil’s skin prickles. “You’ll probably be goodwith jeans. As long as they’re not fifty years old or ripped. My man’s a classyone.”“Since when?” Dan sticks out her tongue and implies something rude about Neil’s parentage,which all things considered might even be true.She is Neil’s family, though, so she cuddles him on the couch after he getschanged until Matt comes home. The rush of warm air from outside and Matt’sheavy footsteps announce him plainly, but neither of them move until Matt tipshis head over the back of the couch, shaking his sweaty headband onto Dan’sstomach. Dan picks it up and snaps it back into his face. “Ewww,” she says, grinning.“I kinda like coming home to my two favorite people,” Matt says, and whileNeil’s face goes hot he leans down to kiss Dan hello. Neil’s instinct is tolook at his feet, but their faces are in the way and so that would becounterproductive. Well, why should he? Didn’t he and Matt agree that they were going to kiss whenthey saw each other again? Habit makes Neil stop before reaching up, tucking his hands behind his back.“Do I get one too?”“Wh—oh,” Matt says, hand flying up to cover his face. “I. Not yet? Is thatokay?” His voice gets squeakier, so at the end he sounds like a cartooncharacter.“Okay,” says Neil. He starts to ask where they’re going, but Matt stops himwith a hand on his arm.“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says. “Like. I’m totally still down withkissing. Kissing’s great!” The last time Neil saw Matt bouncing around on his feet that much, it wasbecause he had to go to the bathroom; that doesn’t fit, here.“You’re just a romantic,” Dan teases,and there’s the gut-kick again. Neil’s arms tighten around Dan. She pats him.“You good?”“Mmhm,” Neil says into the pens sticking out of her head.“We don’t have to go out tonight,” Matt says, concerned. 

 That sounds awful.“I’m good. I promise!” 

“Really? Because—”

“Shut up. Where are we going?” Neil says, quickly, before any more argumentscan come through. “Is this okay? What I’m wearing.” Dan shifts to the side soMatt can get the full view. 

“Perfect,” Matt says, all bright white teeth, and oh, Neil wants Matt to lookat him like that and say nice things about him forever. 

After a shower and change himself (“He looks hot in his uniform, doesn’t he?”Dan says to Neil, winking, and Neil feels a quiet thrill when he answers, “Yeah”),Matt slings a jacket over his shoulder and offers Neil his hand. Neil takes it,comforted by the familiar gesture. Matt smells like hair gel and soap andcologne, and Neil presses his face into Matt’s shirt in appreciation.“Drive safe,” Dan says, opening the door for them. She pecks them both on thecheek, stretching up for Matt and leaning down for Neil. “Have fun, you two.”“Don’t blow up the house when I’m not here to see,” Matt responds, and they’reoff, carried down the stairs to the parking garage on Dan’s laugh.

[cherryyharryy]

Show and Tell pt 2

Read the first part here. Part 2

Y/n was everywhere, and she was everywhere Harry didn’t want her to be. She was in all the places he’d worked so hard to keep her from, all the places he knew were no good. And the worst part about it was that he never saw it coming. He never would have guessed that his darling girl would, in the end, be the one he needed to stop before her life was turned upside down.

He leaned back on his sofa, hand clasped loosely over his mouth as he surveyed the array of magazines laid out on his coffee table. His phone had been turned off an hour ago, and the pit of anxiety from the thought alone of the bombardment he’d be met with once he turned it back on was doubling in size.

“Fuck.”

His memory was a little hazy, which he was more than okay with waking up today, he needed last night. It would be the last time for a long while, he predicted, that he’d get shit-faced enough to where he’d hang up on y/n’s mom at six in the morning. He still reeked of alcohol. The suit he had been thrilled to put on, the one that matched y/n’s, was only half accounted for. And his bed had been colder than usual.

He had stayed until around three am...he thinks. Maybe longer, who knows. And before the alcohol started making a steady appearance in his body he’d ran over the possible consequences in his anger-fueled mind, knowing he’d more than likely wake up to his plastered face all over social media and Jeff calling to check on him. He’d wake up with illegible text messages spamming his phone and pictures he can’t remember taking.

But that wasn’t the case.

“God, FUCK!”

Harry was nowhere to be seen. The couple he vaguely recalls stripping from their matching bumble bee costumes and running into the night hadn’t earned an add in any gossip column. Benny’s birthday wasn’t mentioned on the thousands of twitter posts tagging Harry over night. The small firework show that a friend of a friend put on in the front lawn wasn’t headline news.

But the mysterious fox who left the party alone had strode through the mansion one final time, her mask gripped in her hand with a smirk on her face. And there were dozens of pictures, capturing her long walk back through the house until she made it out the front door. And no one had seen her since, not even Harry.

***

“What did y/n say? Is she alright?”

Harry shrugged, eyeing his mom over his phone from his seat at the kitchen island. “Haven’t spoken to her.”

“What?” Anne set her coffee down and poured more cream into her mug. “Is she that upset?”

He shrugged again. “Don’t know.”

“Harry, don’t be snippy with me. Now what—”

“I don’t know mum!” Harry gulped at his mother’s flinch back, running his hand through his unwashed hair. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Don’t even know where she is.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is?”

“Exactly what I said. She left the party, I stayed. I went back to my house, she didn’t.”

“Harry—”

“No, mum,” he shook his head and rose from the stool, “she did this to herself. Not me. I don’t owe her anything.”

***

The days passed by and with each mention of his name online, y/n’s picture followed shortly after, Harry’s anger multiplied. His efforts over the past two years had gone down the drain. And he wasn’t forgetting it anytime soon.

His nose was in the air and there was a bite to his words that had his friends avoiding him. Everyone knew better than to ask, despite the mountain of questions resting on their tongues, and so his secret girl who was something less of a secret now still remained...well a secret.

Her name and her instagram were practically broadcasted to the world. A girl who claimed to have been in the same graduating class gladly came forward with a plethora of information on her close-knit relationship with y/n and Harry, and then there were the threats of course, ready to destroy the girl who couldn’t possibly be with Harry for the right reasons.

But none of that fazed him. She had made her bed and he was going to let her lie in it.

“This one’s nice. Reminds me of summer time.”

Harry nodded, eyes flickering over the selection of candles displayed before him. The woman at the register had taken it upon herself to provide an unwanted tour of the small shop, complete with commentary about every candle he touched.

“Ooh, try this one. I burn it while soaking in the bath. It’s quite relaxing.” She popped the lid off a fruity scented candle. “Here, try it.”

He shook his head. “No thanks.”

“Okay, well what about a vanilla—”

“I said no.”

Soft apologies were uttered as the woman set the candle back in its place and made her way back to the front of the store. He sighed and picked up a small, two wick candle, instantly putting it back once it was close to his nose.

“You hate lavender.”

Harry jumped and spun on his heel, eyes widening when y/n stepped closer, wrapped in her favorite black sweater.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hi.” She offered a small smile. “I’ve had my phone turned off since...y’know. S’why I probably missed your call.”

“I haven’t called.”

“Oh.” She rolled her lips in and gave a nod. “Okay then, well, there’s no sense in us avoiding each other. We need to talk.”

“Oh we do? Do we y/n?”

She glanced around the room, raising her brows and spitting out a bitter ‘yeah.’

“Fine. We’ll talk.” With a straightened back and a smug look on his face, he let the words tumble out, slow and cool, precise so she wouldn’t miss a single word. “Why the fuck did you do that!? Do you have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve done? You single handedly destroyed two years of me bending over backwards for you, for your protection, for your safety, in one, thirty second strut through a house full of people!”

“Excuse me?” She snarled. “None of that was my idea! I didn’t ask for your help and I certainly didn’t need you help!”

“Bull shit! Tell me, y/n, how have things been this past week? Are you happy? Happy with thousands of people all in your business and watching your every move? Are you happy that your privacy vanished?” He was seething, face a boiling red with veins swelling in his neck. “Well are you?”

She stayed silent, an icy glare aimed at this man who just last week was her caring boyfriend.

“Did you ever stop to think about why I did what I did? Do you think I really wanted to keep an eye on you every fucking day to make sure your name wasn’t dragged through the mud?” He shook his head. His hands exaggerated the words flying from his lips as his face grew more animated, a tired yet vengeful gleam behind his eyes. “No! Guess what darling? I went through hell and back to keep you fucking happy! And this is the thanks I get? Ungrateful. S’what you are, ungrateful, spoiled brat.”

Y/n’s eyes burned, but she conjured up every bit of strength that hadn’t been used to pry herself out of bed that morning to hold back the waterfall steaming behind her fluttering lids. She squared her shoulders and closed the space between her wobbly knees; her body once again reacting to Harry’s words, only this time there weren’t butterflies swarming her belly nor a smile growing on her face.

“Wait just a second.” She took another step towards him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare blame me. You weren’t protecting me, Harry! You were controlling every move I made! I wasn’t allowed to fuckin’ talk at that damn party! So yes! Yes I’m happy that I can finally breathe and go a week without my boyfriend’s thumb crushing me!”

A throat being cleared pulled their attention towards the woman Harry had snapped at earlier, fidgeting and shifting on her feet.

“I—I’m gonna have to ask you two to leave,” she whispered.

Y/n huffed and stomped off around the corner towards the front door, Harry not far behind her heels. She stopped short of the double glass doors, gulping at the sight before her and slinging her hand up to cover her face.

“Ooh, look at that,” he said while passing her frozen state, pushing open one of the doors into the screaming crowd forming outside. “You can handle this, though, right?”

***

Please let me know what you think!! Part 3 will be up tomorrow!

[honeywithblueberries]

Thanksgiving

A/N: Thank you for all of you patience, everyone. Writer's block hit me hard and two idea's were fighting for dominance. This one won. I hope you like it. Not my best work, but I suppose it'll do.

Happy late Thanksgiving!! …………. “Ok! Does everyone with hooves have a partner?”

The todd grinned as a series of little voices gave happy shouts of confirmation.

“Very good!” Stepping around his desk to walk around his students desk, he picked up a container of magic markers. “Now, remember what we went over. Those with paws, put them flat on the paper. I’m going to pass out markers, and very carefully, trace around your paw. Don’t worry if you trace over your fur, but I have combs at my desk if you want brush it down.”

A little raccoon jumped up with his little paw in the air. “Mr. Wilde! What about our claws?”

Face lighting up at the question, the fox held up one of his own fingers.

“Excellent question, Julian! Don’t worry about tracing the claw, just trace the rest of your finger.” Walking to his student, the container was set on his desk and a marker selected. “Here, watch me.”

Before he could start his demonstration, a small knock at the door had everyone looking up. Green eyes moved from the paper to the uniformed gray bunny smiling at him from the doorway.

“Be right back guys,” he muttered absently with a smile. Still smiling at him, the bunny pushed herself away from the doorway to the hall. The class giggled and whispered as their teacher all but ran after the pretty bunny.

Shaking his head with a grin, the todd turned to give them wink before he vanished. His eyes landed on the bunny, who was watching him with happy eyes. And as soon as he was close enough, she jumped in his arms. With a laugh, he caught her lips and kissed her deeply, his paws failing to resist their exploration of the firm body they held. Not that she was doing much better.

“Mmmmm,” he growled when he pulled away, “careful, Officer Hopps. Wouldn’t want you to be charged with conduct unbecoming.”

“I’m willing to take that risk if you are, Nick,” she laughed back, as he set her back onto the ground. His paws slid up from her bottom to her shoulders, giving them an affectionate squeeze.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as he pressed another kiss onto her forehead.

“Wolford promised his nephew he would show up for show and tale.” Her paws straightened out his tie and collar, as she batted her eyes at him. “So I thought I would kill some time while waiting for him to finish up.”

“Ahhhh. So you’re just here until something better comes along?” Nick asked dramatically, showing his head back. “Officer Judy Hopps, the heartbreaker of Zootopia.”

Judy laughed as pulled back further.

“You caught me!” She yanked him down for another kiss, a smug grin curling her muzzle at his dazed expression when they seperated. Though it became curious as her smile faded. “Actually I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving. You remember it’s this week right.”

“I do! I have about twenty or so nine year olds making turkeys from paw prints and we just finished writing out what we’re thankful for. When do you leave for Bunnyburrow.”

“Yeah, that’s actually what I want to talk to you about. I was thinking of not going this year.” His eyebrows shot up at her suggestion.

“Oh, are your parents coming up for the holiday? I thought they were more into keeping things traditional, what with all your siblings and whatnot….” He trailed off when she pulled away and twisted her paws together.

“Well,” Judy gave a slightly apprehensive smile, “I just thought that maybe this would be the year I could…..” Whatever she suggested was mumbled so low, Nick could barely hear it.

Eyes widening at what he thought she said (and hoping he was wrong) he leaned in closer. “I’m sorry, darlin’. What?”

“Uh-hm… I said maybe this year… I could…. I mean WE could… You know…. Go to your parents house for Thanksgiving?” Judy finished with a shrug and a smile as the fox blinked down at her in surprise. “I mean, we’ve been together for a while now. A long while. And you’ve met my family plenty of times! And they just love you, by the way. So I thought, maybe… it was a good time to meet your family?"

“Jude!” Nick was spared from answering by the tall wolf officer exciting a classroom. “You ready? Sorry for keeping you waiting. Hey Nick!”

“Hey, Dave,” the fox gave friendly nod and smile before turning back to Judy. The bunny waved at her partner before she turned back to met her boyfriend’s eyes.

“How about we shelve this for now and talk about it tonight?” she suggested before firmly tugging his collar down again. Judy gave him a final kiss, slipping her tongue in just far enough to have him whimper, before pulling back.

“Yes, Office,” he agreed with a dazed smile. Her beam was enough to have the uncomfortable twist his stomach was been in at her suggestion be forgotten as she took off after her partner.

Taking another breath to steady himself, his smile fell as she vanished.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “How do I get out of this one?” ……………

There were several things Nick could always count on. The kits he taught being more excited about recess than spelling test were one. The teacher's lounge will always have terrible coffee and a slightly…. off…. smell. And his life long friends, Jack and Skye, would provide the best council and advice to him when he needed it. So it was worth suffering teacher's lounge coffee. Sometimes.

“Oh, yeah, Judy’s being totally unreasonable.” The stripped rabbit buck took a drink from his mug before breaking off a piece of his muffin. “I mean, you two have only been together, what? Two years? Oh, yeah, WAY too soon to meet the parents.”

The arctic vixen next to him snorted into her own cup, this one filled with tea, before turning her eyes to her mate. “Jack, be nice.”

“Thanks, Skye. And it’s not that easy,” argued Nick irritably. “Or simple. I can’t just bring a female home and expect us both of to walk away unscathed. It’s a serious commitment.”

“One that’s pretty standard after so many years of dating.” Skye countered, leaning back to rest her paws on her swollen belly.

“First, I have to let them know I’m seeing someone. I don’t think my mom’s going to happy once she realizes how long I’ve been with Judy all this time without telling her.” The todd shrugged and took a sip from his cup. “It’ll stop all the blind dates though-”

A white paw shot in the air, halting the todd’s train of thought.

“Hold up.” Skye cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at Nick. “Are we to believe that Mama and Papa Wilde have no clue their little Nicky has been in a relationship for the past couple years?”

Jack’s jaw dropped as he looked from his wife to his friend. “Nick!”

Flattening his ears against his head, the todd looked down to the table as his paw fiddled with his coffee cup.

“I was going to tell them,” he responded quietly. “But I just didn’t know how they would take me dating a bunny…. Among other reasons.”

“I don’t know if this question is allowed,” Jack scooted his chair closer to the table, “but does Judy know this?”

Skye and Jack groaned when Nick shook his head.

“Nicky,” the vixen kicked him hard under the table. “That has to be the scummiest thing you’ve ever done!”

“I know!” he snapped back as he rubbed his sore shin. Groaning, Nick stretched his arms out on the table and let his head thump forward. “I’m so screwed……”

“You really are.” agreed the rabbit, earning a glare from the fox. “And I say this as a friend, knowing full well that my gorgeous wife, the mother of my children, knows I’m head over tail in love with her. But Judy's hot. Like, really hot. And a catch.”

Nick sat up straight and narrowed his eyes at the bunny. Skye merely laughed put her paw over Jack’s.

“I know that, asshole,” the todd growled back, before rolling his eyes.

“No,” injected Skye, “I don’t think you do.” Scoffing Nick slumped back in his seat and focused on his cup. “Nick, the amount of mammals we work with that are obsessed with her is insane. Before she met you, she had a line of males and females who were more than happy to show her a good time and then some. You need to fix this and come clean to her. It what she deserves.”

“Ok, here’s the plan!” Nick said finally. His friends looked at him expectantly. “I’ll talk to her tonight and convince her to go to Bunnyburrow for Thanksgiving. And then for Christmas and New Years, I’ll tell her I have terminal cancer and my dying wish is to spend time with her family in her hometown. And then I don't have to worry about her and my parents ever meeting. Problem solved.” Brushing his paws and grinning, Nick pushed himself up. The coffee cup was drained before being tossed in the trash. “Now, time to get back to my students.”

Jack and Skye watched their fellow teacher leave the lounge before exchanging exasperated glances. Skye shook her head at her husband.

“Not our problem,” she told him. Jack nodded.

“Not our problem.” he agreed. Both continued to nod in uncomfortable silence.

“I need a drink,” Skye grumbled, putting her paws on her stomach.

“One more month.”

"Damn it……"

The pair let the quiet envelope them until they had to go back to their classrooms. ………………………..

“Just one bite!” Judy laughed as Nick held out his chopsticks.

“Ew!” came her response as she dodged the bite of cricket on the other end. “It even looks gross!”

The rest of the day had been uneventful, with Nick counting the seconds until he met up with Judy. Most of his time was spent thinking up excuses for her to be in Bunnyburrow for the holiday. Because telling her the truth this far into their relationship was out of the question.

“Yum, yum, yum!” he teased as he moved the bite closer.

“Go away you, dumb fox!” She shrieked with laughter again as she pushed at him.

“Oh, ho! Dumb fox I may be, but I have something even tastier than a cricket!” Dropping his chopsticks, he gave a playful growl as he moved towards his girlfriend.

“Nicholas,” she threatened, holder her own sticks out to stop him, “don’t you dare…..”

“And it’s been so long since I’ve had a taste of…… BUNNY!”

Laughing, she threw the sticks and ran from the kitchen to the living room, Nick hot on her tail. Scooping her up, he jumped onto the couch, fingers digging into her sides and teeth gently nibbling her neck. He eased his motions as his mouth found hers. Still giggling, she kissed and nuzzled him, urging her fox as close as he could get.

And Nick didn’t mind in the least.

They pulled away with sighs, happy purple eyes drinking in his face. Content green followed suit. And for a moment, he forgot all about the black cloud hanging over him.

“So?” she began, still smiling as they lay next to each other on the couch.

“So?”

“Have you thought anymore about Thanksgiving?” Her hopeful expression caused an ache in his chest as he looked away to recenter himself.

“I think,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "you shouldn't disappoint your parents by staying here. Everyone is going to miss you and they barely see you as it is."

Judy was silent as she considered what her boyfriend suggested. "I guess that's true."

"Oh, I know it's true." Nick buried his nose in her neck and closed his eyes, silently congratulating himself on a narrow miss. "Because anyone who knows you, always misses you when you leave the room." She laughed and pulled back. "Never mind county."

Judy smiled and reached up to stroke his muzzle. "I love you."

"And I love you, Carrots."

Her eyebrows wrinkled as she moved her attention to his neck fluff. "Nick. You're not ashamed of me…. Are you?"

Scoffing, he lifted his paw to her face. "You kiddin'? Ashamed of dating the most wonderful mammal in the world? Never. My parents love hearing about you. They can't get enough."

Smiling, Judy snuggled deeper into his arms and sighed. "Good."

Guilt seeped in as he held her close and tried to will the problem away.

At least he had temporarily dodge a bullet. ……………………….

Vivian Wilde was a particular vixen. Everything she did was very precise and ordered, preferring to act out of logic than emotion. Having helped her husband run his tailoring business for the past forty years, it was expected. Especially during the holidays. With the increase in business during Thanksgiving and Christmas, the Wilde family looked to their matriarch to keep everything balanced.

Supplies for the store, customer info, Christmas list and gifts, and groceries were only the tip of the iceberg for the vixen.

But now she had added a new project to the works: Setting up her youngest son. Nick’s brother, Greg, had already been married for several years. He and his wife had welcomed a baby vixen and now that Vivian had a taste of being a grandmother, she was eager for more.

“Mom….” Nick whined on the other end of the phone. “I’m not in the mood for being set up. Can’t I just come to dinner and not worry about making a good impression.”

“Nick,” she argued back patiently, as she moved through the clothing store, “I love you sweetheart, but don’t you think it’s high time you settle down? You’re not getting any younger and if you want to be able to actually keep up with your future children, you need to start considering your options.”

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and flicked through a rack of sweaters. Normally she wouldn’t bother with department store shopping, but one had to stay on top of the latest trends.

“Ok, compromise,” she said finally, her son falling silent as he waited for her to continue. “I won’t invite the Bushtale’s daughter tonight and I’ll drop the matter until Thanksgiving’s over. But afterwards, you’ll take her out to dinner and be the charming young gentle mammal I know I raised. Deal?”

“Mom-“

“Nicholas Piberious Wilde.”

She smiled as he huffed at his middle name. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Deal.”

“And I don’t know why you’re so against this, sweetheart. You haven’t had a serious relationship in over two years!” Vivian took his silence as moment of petulance, before sighing. “All right, dinner tonight and we can discuss the logistics of Thanksgiving. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Mom.” Vivian pulled her phone away, though she put it back to her ear with a frown at the loud “MOM!” from the other end.

“Yes?” Silence. “Nicky?” Still quiet.

“Never mind….. I’ll see you tonight.” And with that, the line went dead.

Vivian frowned down at her phone before shrugging and tucking it into her purse. Readjusting it back onto her shoulder, she only had a few moments of peace before she felt someone rush by. A pair of strong paws yanked the bag from her body.

“Hey!” Turning towards the culprit, she watched in horror as the skinny little weasel ran away. “MY PURSE!”

“I’m on it!” came a determined shout.

Her eyes looked for the source of the voice, immediately finding a vaguely familiar grey bunny doe. Wearing leggings and a purple sweater, the bunny darted after the perpetrator. Vivian tailed behind at slower, but no less frantic, pace, watching in awe as the little bunny darted in and out the crowds. She managed to follow him out of the store into the shopping plaza just outside its doors. Pausing by a fountain, Vivian watched as the bunny made a running leap and tackled the weasel, his loud grunt audible from where the vixen stood.

A pair of officers jogged over to the pair. Vivian followed, ready to defend the little bunny who wrestled her purse from the thief.

“Haha!” the doe laughed. “Nice try, Wesselton!”

“It’s Weaselton, Floppsy!” The weasel squirmed and bucked, trying to throw the bunny off his back. The tiger officer knelt to keep him pinned as a pair of paw cuffs were clasped onto his wrists by the rabbit. “I’m an innocent mammal! Just mindin’ my own business and long ears over here decides to use me as a crash dummy!”

“Sure, Duke!” laughed the rhino officer towering over them. “And the purse just magically materialized?”

“Finders keepers!” Weaselton spat as he was hauled up by the tiger.

“Officers!” All four turned to look at the vixen rushing towards them. “That purse is mine! My wallet and i.d. are right inside it.”

Taking it from the bunny, the tiger delicately pulled the wallet free. She smiled at the photo before passing it to Vivian.

“Here you go, Ma’am. Would you like to press charges?”

“Yes, actually I would.” Vivian pointed a claw at the weasel who was grumbling in front of her. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Yeah, yeah……”

“Ma’am, if you’ll follow us to the station, we can take your statement.” With a nod, the rhino turned to lumber away, the tiger and weasel close behind.

“Good work, Hopps!” The tiger called over her shoulder.

“Hopps?” Vivian asked, jaw dropping as she turned to the doe. The bunny had been smiling and waving good bye to the trio when she turned her big purple eyes to the vixen. “Hopps as in Officer Judy Hopps? First bunny in the ZPD?”

Vivian couldn’t believe her eyes. She had watched this little bunny graduate on t.v., listened to all the stories surrounding the good work she was doing around the city, and made sure to read every article she could get her paws on about the rabbit. And here she was in the flesh and fur! Looking absolutely adorable in her purple sweater, with her long, pink tinged ears low, and shy smile on her pretty face.

“Guilty.” A dainty paw was extended for a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…..”

“Vivian, dear! Call me Vivian! And if I may say, it’s an honor to finally meet you.” Gripping the smaller paw, Vivian felt her excitement bubble over. “I was so proud to see one of the little guys make it through the police academy. You’re such an inspiration to us all!”

“Oh,” Hopps’ cheeks were liberally tinged with red, her eyes falling to hide her embarrassment, as she replied. “If not me, then someone else would have been the first. I was just following my childhood dream, Ma’am.”

“And showing the world it’s ok to dream big.” Vivian was charmed by the humility Officer Hopps was showing when the most brilliant idea popped into her head. “I need to repay you!”

Eyes going wide, Hopps shook her head frantically. “Oh, no! Not all, I was really just doing my job!”

“On your day off,” the vixen responded absently as she dug through her bag. Finding what she was looking for, she gave a laugh of triumph. “And I would be honored if you joined us for dinner tonight!”

Scribbling down her address on the piece of paper she dug out, Vivian held it out to the bunny doe. Still blushing, it was accepted with another shy smile.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I would be delighted.”

“As would we! And it’s Vivian.” The vixen and bunny shook paws again. “Vivian-“

A loud ringtone from her bag interrupted her, causing both females to look down at it in surprise.

“That’s my husband! I'm so sorry, I have to take this.” the vixen explained. Hopps smiled at her again before waving farewell. “I’ll see you tonight! Six thirty.”

With a grin and a wave, Vivian answered her husband’s call, watching her heroine bounce away. “Matthew! You’re never going to believe who I just met!” ……………..

“I have fans!” Judy ginned wider at the amused chuckle from her boyfriend.

“What else is new? We can’t go anywhere without you being stopped for pictures.” Nick countered, a smile in his voice.

“Not even!” Judy rolled her eyes. “Everyone lost interest after my first few weeks as an officer.”

“Because everyone else is an idiot.” His serious tone had her smile soften. Shaking her head and trying to forget her decision to go back home for the holiday, she carried on.

“I rescued this lady’s purse and she invited me to dinner with her family tonight!”

“Really,” Judy frowned at Nick’s tone of disbelief. “That’s….. creepy.”

“Nick! She was just being friendly.”

“Sweetheart, friendly is a paw shake. Would you invite a random mammal into your home for dinner?”

“We do it all the time in Bunnyburrow.”

He sighed on the other line. “Of course you do. Are you going?”

Judy looked at the simple dress pulled from her closet for the occasion and smiled again. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Well,” he answered hesitantly, “be safe and call me when you get there. And halfway through. And when you’re on your way home. And when you get home.”

“Should I just put you on Muzzletime?” Judy joked.

“Oh, ha ha. I’m serious, Carrots. Just be safe and be smart.”

“I will slick.” There was a pause between them, one which Judy had to remind herself once again of her decision to go back to the burrow for Thanksgiving. “Have fun at your parents tonight, Slick.”

"I'll make sure I tell them the latest story about the famous Officer Hopps." They both laughed.

"You do that." A paw reaching out for the dress, Judy held it in front of her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, beautiful."

Tonight's going to be fun, she thought as she hung up. ……………….

Stepping out of her Zoober, Judy fixed her coat and dress for the hundredth time. Switching the wine bottle from one paw to the other and brushing off imaginary dust, she smiled and marched to the front door. Her smile widened at the sight of the familiar vixen who answered her knock.

“Oh, yay!” cried Vivian when she pulled open the door. “You made it!”

“Thank you so much for having me, Vivian.” The vixen helped her out of her coat and accepted the wine. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“And we’re delighted to have you here!” came a new voice. Both females turned to see a handsome older todd make his way to the pair. He beamed at the bunny before relieving his wife of the coat and hanging it on the hook. “The missus here wouldn’t stop talking about you! And I must say, it’s an honor to finally meet you. I’m Matthew!”

Paws were shaken as the trio made their way further into the house.

“Now, I hope you don’t mind, Judy, but I made fish. But don’t you worry! You’re not going to be the only bunny here. My son’s on his way and his friends are going to be joining us. They don't eat meat so there will be plenty to choose from.”

Vivian smiled and winked at the doe before vanishing into the kitchen.

Turning back to Matthew, Judy was ushered into the living room. “So, Judy, how long have you been in Zootopia now?”

“A little over three years.” The bunny sat on the large overstuffed couch, admiring the tasteful room filled with antiques.

“And you’re liking it so far?” Taking a seat across from her, Matthew pour her a glass of water from the pitcher on the table next to him.

“Oh yes! It’s energy is just amazing.” She beamed as she thought over everything she had gained since she left her hometown, Nick being at the front of her mind. “I love it here.”

Matthew laughed and clapped his paws. “Excellent! I was hoping you would fall in love with our city!”

“Thank you, sir!” Giving the cheerful room another look around, her eyes widened at the collection of vintage photos decorating the walls, each sporting a curved autograph in their corners. “You have such an amazing home.”

“Thank you.” The todd stood from his seat, gesturing Judy to follow as he moved closure to the wall. “I make suits. Just like my fathers before me. Every mammal you see in these photos is wearing one of my family’s suits.”

The familiarity of what he said had Judy frowning at the pictures. Famous mammals beamed as they shook paws with a younger Matthew or what looked to be his father. The todd was so caught up in the past, explaining all the different characters he had met over the years, that he didn’t notice her grow silent and thoughtful. Moving a bit further away, she could vaguely hear him tell her stories someone else had told her……. not very long ago.

Purple eyes moved from picture to picture. Until they landed on one in particular. Pausing in front of it, she frowned in confusion at what she was seeing.

“Ah!” Matthew’s voice broke through her thoughts. “I see you found our family photo.”

Grinning he pulled it from the hook and lowered it so she could see better. Judy felt her mouth go dry as she looked at the smiling faces on the photo. Vivian and Matthew were standing with their arms around two todds. One of which she knew all too well. Or at least, she thought she did.

“This is our oldest son, Greg. That photo over there is him and his wife. He helps me with the business. Turned out to be an amazing tailor, just like his grandfather.” Matthew gestured to the wedding photo a little further along. “And this handsome young lad is our youngest, Nick. He’s a teacher at Northwoods in Savanna Central.”

“You must be very proud,” Judy remarked, forcing a smile on her face as she looked at a younger version of her boyfriend.

“Oh, yes.” Matthew smiled fondly at the photo before hanging it back up. “I was hoping he would want to join in on the family business. But he always was a bit different.”

“I can imagine.” she said dryly.

The door bell cut off anything else she was going say, the todd excusing himself to answer it. Judy felt….. numb. Standing in front of the wall filled with family photos, a slight burning pressure behind her eyes had her closing them for second to regain her focus. But opening them again, the first thing she saw was Greg and his wife, beaming down in the wedding clothes. And then it hit her.

Nick’s family had no idea who she was to him. She doubted they even knew he knew her, let alone dating her.

“Nick! Hey, son! How was school?” Matthew once again pulled her from her thoughts, causing her to look to the hallway.

“Oh, you know, Dad. Busy, busy, busy! All those little lives that need to be inspired!” Everyone in the hall gave a laugh at the little joke.

“And my word! Skye, look how big your belly is!”

“Oh my gods, I know! And these kits are treating my bladder like a trampoline!”

“Well, they are part rabbit, my love.” came Jack's reply. The sound of the kitchen door opening interrupted the conversation. “Vivian! Lovely as always. Thanks so much for being willing to host us twice this week.”

“Oh, Jackie, you and Skye are always welcomed here!”

Feeling nauseous, Judy followed the sounds of voices. She could pick up on Jack and Skye happily making small talk with their host and hostess. Matthew moved aside, revealing the couple, who were in animate conversation with Vivian.

“Oh, Nick!” the older vixen cried out when she met Judy's gaze. “You’ll never guess who I met today!”

“I bet I won’t, Mom.” The familiar, easy drawl almost had a few salty tears spill down her cheeks.

Vivian excitedly turned from her son to wave Judy over. Putting her paws on the bunny’s shoulders, the vixen gave an excited squeal. Nick smiled at his mother before dropping his gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath as he met Judy's narrowed eyes and set jaw.

“Hi,” Judy thrusted her paw out to him, feeling her shock morph into very real anger. “I’m Officer Judy Hopps.”

Gulping and forcing a smile onto his muzzle, Nick was smart enough to know was she was doing. Either he could shake her paw and pretend he didn’t know her. Or he could step up, and admit he had been hiding his relationship from his family. Jack and Skye froze when they realized what was happening. Jack’s eyes moved from the todd to the doe while Skye face palmed.

Though both were ready to applauded Judy’s acting skills when Nick accepted her paw shake.

“Nice to met you Judy,” he muttered, after swallowing hard. “I’m-“

“Nick.” she finished. The younger todd tried to not flinch at her tone. “Your father’s told me so much about you.” ……..

“So Judy!” Vivian moved around the table, refilling wine glasses (or juice in Skye’s case). “What do your parents think about you being out here on your own.”

The doe smiled easily. “Oh, they were worried at first. But they met a lot of my co-workers, so that calmed them down some.”

“Wonderful!” Matthew exclaimed with a smile. “But what shocks me is that an amazing gal like you is still single.”

Nick’s ears flattened as his father gave him a pointed nudge with his elbow. And the younger todd’s stomach dropped when Judy laughed and gave a dismissive wave.

“I just got out of what I thought was a serious relationship.” She met Nick’s eyes and made her face blank. “Not quite sure how ready I am to start dating again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Vivian said sympathetically. When the bunny looked down, she shot her son an excited grin and nodded frantically, before softening her expression once more when Judy looked back up. “How long were you two together?”

With sad smile at the vixen, her eyes flicked back over to Nick. “Two years. I was hoping to met his family for Thanksgiving, but it turns out, they had no idea we were together.”

“The nerve of some males,” Matthew looked outraged. “Well, you’re more than welcomed to join us for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Vivian squealed in delight again and clutched the bottle of wine in her paws. “Oh, we’d be delighted.”

Nick gulped as Judy looked from his parents back to him. “I’m actually going to be heading to Bunnyburrow tomorrow for the holiday. But thank you so much for the kind offer.”

“What a pity,” Nick said, his heart clenching when Judy nodded in agreement.

“Yup. It sure is.”

“Well,” continued Vivian as she took her seat again, “if you’re parents are anything like me, you’ll be over that guy in a heart beat!”

Judy gave her a politely confused smile. “What do you mean?”

Clearing his throat, Jack finally spoke up. “Oh, just that…. no… parent likes to see their kits…. uh…..”

“Navigate this crazy world alone,” Skye finished with a pleading smile at her bunny friend. Judy narrowed her eyes again and parted her mouth before turning back to Nick.

The todd looked away, and gulped.

“Oh, tell me about it.” Vivian gave her son a playful slap on the arm. “I’ve set this one up on at least seven blind dates in the last few weeks. I never met a todd who was so picky!”

She smiled at her son, who gave a forced laugh before looking back up at Judy.

“Seven dates, huh?” The doe shook her head and clicked her teeth. “Must be tough.”

Further discussion was stalled by a beeping from Judy’s watch. Her eyes looked at the digital screen, reading the text briefly before standing from her seat.

“I’m so sorry to cut the evening short,” she started with an air of disappointment in her voice. “But that’s my partner. A big break in a case we’re working on came through, so I’m afraid I have to leave you.”

She walked around the table, her ears falling at the sound of displeasure from Matthew and Vivian. Both enveloped her in a hug, before she stepped up to Nick. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before she stiffly held out her paw to him.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Nick. You have a wonderful family.” He accepted, trying not to throw up on her when he did.

“I’ll walk you out.” he offered brightly, only to have her shake her head.

“There’s really no need-“

“I insist.” The todd stood, still gripping her paw and pulled it through his arm. “My mom raised a gentle mammal, after all.”

Jack and Skye exchanged nervous glances while the Wildes tried to contain their glee.

Without further protest, Nick was able guide her from the table. Helping her into her coat and following her through the door, he braced himself for her reaction to the evening as soon it shut behind them. But oddly she just stood still and silent, her back to him as she crossed her arms.

“How many dates have you been on since we’ve been together, Nick.” she asked in a clipped voice.

“…..Several.”

“That isn’t a number, Nick.”

Swallowing, he looked to his feet before answering. “At least twelve…..”

“So last night, when you said your parents heard all about me?”

“That technically wasn’t a lie.” And the look she gave him when she turned around wilted his heart.

She shook her head at him. “Two years, Nick.”

"Judy, I-"

"Don't care." Whatever he was going to say died in his throat. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left.

The rest of the night was a blur for the todd. His parents interpreted his reserve for being love struck. He barely heard their babble and barely registered the plans for Thanksgiving being finalized before the night was over. All he could do was count the seconds until he could leave. He was only partly surprised to find himself at Judy's door, fist slamming against the cheap wood.

"Judy!" he called. "Judy, please answer me!"

Pounding the wood again, he gave a desperate whine when he still only met with silence. His paw was raised to knock again when it swung open.

"What Nick?" she asked sharply.

"I'm sorry," he started in a rush, paw going to the door when she scoffed and tried to close it. "I swear, I never did anything but share a meal with those vixens. And I spent the entire time talking about you. I made sure that they knew about you before anything else."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a sarcastic smile on her face. "You mean at least twelve perfect strangers knew all about our relationship before your parents did!" She clasped her paws to her chest and gave a sigh. "That is so romantic, Nick! In fact, I think I'm falling in love with you all over again!"

Dropping the act, Judy narrowed her eyes at him. "I need you to leave." Nick opened his mouth, only to be cut off. "Now."

Without waiting, she slammed the door shut. Panicked, Nick balled his fist and pounded on the wood again.

"I'm not leaving, Judy!" he shouted. "Not until we talk about this! Not until you tell me how I can fix it!"

"If you don't leave now, I'm calling the cops!" she shouted back. "And if you think I'm kidding, try me! So leave me alone, Nick."

Nick looked at the closed door and swallowed again. Knowing better, he turned and walked away, kicking himself. ……………..

The sharp blaring of an alarm jerked the todd from a deep sleep. And it made the hangover he was experiencing very pronounced. With his temple throbbing, stomach rolling, and sour taste in his mouth, Nick pried his eyes open. He was lying on his back, atop an unfamiliar surface, looking up at a white ceiling. His paw clutched an empty bottle of whiskey. He flailed his other arm out to stop the annoying beeping but only swiped at air.

"GOOD MORNING!"

The loud greeting had him yelping and jumping in his spot. Scrambling away, he clutched his temple and looked to see Skye holding her phone out, the screen displaying an alarm. She disabled it and set it on the arm of the couch Nick was on. Crossing her arms, her scowl deepened as she glared.

"…….Morning….." Nick said weakly, moving to sit properly. "What happened last night?"

"Oh, you want to know what happened?" she asked aggressively. "You showed up at our door in the middle of the night, shit faced and crying, and threw up all over our bathroom. Then you passed out on the couch."

Nick groaned and buried his face in his paws. "Ooohhhh…… And I have to get to work…….."

"No," the todd looked up at his friend, "I already called in substitutes for both our classes. You're in no condition to be at work, and I've been having Braxton Hicks contractions." With a sigh, Nick slumped back onto the couch. "And you're not off the hook, yet."

"It's over, Skye," he responded, closing his eyes. "Judy hates me and wants nothing to do with me. There's no coming back from this."

Mouth dropping open, she stormed from her spot to stand in front of him. "So you're not even going to try? You're just going to roll over and give up? What do you think is going to happen when Judy gets to Bunnyburrow?"

Nick's eyes shot open in interest. "What?"

"You heard your mother last night! You're not going to attempt to make up for being a HUGE jerk? What's going to happen when Judy, heartbroken and vulnerable, goes back home? How many buck's do think will offer to a be a shoulder to cry on?"

Shaking his head, Nick's eyes narrowed in anger at the implication. "Judy isn't like that."

"Like what?" asked Skye. "She's a folk hero in Bunnyburrow. And will probably be more open to be comforted by someone else, especially after this little stunt you pulled. Who's to say how far she'll be willing to go? After all, her ex was so ashamed of her, he never told his family about their relationship. She's probably starving from some affirmation that she's worth the effort."

Ignoring his throbbing temple, he sat up.

"I was never ashamed of her!" he protested.

"Sure you weren't." came the dismissive reply.

"I never said anything about her because-"

"Oh, fucking spare me!" As Skye wasn't fond of swearing, the shock of it shut Nick up. "I don't care what excuse you thought up for not telling your family about her. I don't want to hear it. What I want to hear is how you're going to get her back. Because I swear to gods, Nick Wilde, if you let her go, it'll be the worst mistake of your life."

Tears threatened to fall as he shook his head. "I don't know how."

Skye's expression went blank. She held his gaze for a heartbeat before a paw shot out towards him. Nick jumped as she gave him a painful thump between his legs.

"Ow!" He looked up in shock. "Did you just flick me in the nuts?"

"No. I flicked you in the fleshy patch where your nuts used to be." And she reached out and did it again.

"Ow! Quit flicking my balls, Skye!" He drew his legs up and crossed them to fend her off. But her paws simply started to slap him around. "Ow! Ow! I'll go after her! You know I will."

Stopping, Skye pulled back and looked down at him smugly. "Good. Now, there's coffee in the pot. You have time for one cup before you have to leave for the station. Her train leaves at ten."

She walked towards the kitchen, leaving the todd on the couch. He looked over the back of it at his friend's retreating form.

"Thanks, Skye."

"Don't thank me," came her reply. "Jack would never forgive you if the godfather of our kits let their godmother go." ………….

Nick's heart was beating faster than it ever had before as he raced through Savanna Central. The large clock on the side of the bank kept ticking closer and closer to ten, adding an extra dose of panic to his journey. With traffic piled up, crowds of mammals congesting the sidewalks, and every road he was trying cross blinking the 'Don't Walk' sign, the fox was on the verge of giving up. But Skye's words echoed back to him.

Knowing if Judy went back to Bunnyburrow…..

If her parents learned what happened……

As much as they liked him, they wouldn't hesitate setting her up with someone else. And that someone else would fall madly in love with her. Because they wouldn't be able to help themselves. They would fall in love with her, woo her, take her home to meet their families, who would also love her……

They would propose a future to her.

And there would be a very likely chance she would say yes.

Nick would be damned if the love of his life walked down the aisle towards a mammal that wasn't him. That thought was what he needed to put an extra burst of speed in his pace. Panting, he nearly gave a sob of relief when he saw the train station.

Rushing for the turn stile, he was ready to vault over it when a large security guard moved in front of him. Nick bounced off his large belly. Landing painfully on the concrete ground, he looked up at the glowering hippo.

"Ticket counter is over there." The hippo jerked his head towards the booth.

Looking over at the long line of mammals waiting, Nick turned back to the guard.

"I'm in a really big hurry," he explained with a nervous smile, "and I'm not getting on a train. I just need to talk to someone who's waiting for one."

"Ticket counter is over there," he repeated a bit more forcefully.

"Please, sir," Nick begged as he put his paw together pleadingly. Making his eyes as wide as possible, he lowered his ears, remembering how effective the look was when Judy did it. "This is a mission of love."

The hippo's eyes brightened. "OH! In that case-" he exclaimed, his face brightening. Nick's heart soared only to crash again when the larger mammal leaned over him and scowled. "Ticket counter is over there!"

A sudden yell caught their attention. Both mammals turned to see a skinny little weasel rushing away from an elderly ewe, a bright yellow purse in his paws. Without a second thought, the guard rushed after him.

"Thank you, Duke!" Nick muttered with a grin as he jumped over the turn stile.

Pausing to get his bearings, his eyes landed on platform five, the overhead sign displaying Bunnyburrow. Dashing towards it, Nick felt hopeless when he didn't catch sight of the familiar grey tipped ears. Angry shouts alerted him to the security guard that had tried to stop his boarding. With a glance from the incoming guards to the doors starting to close, the fox dove inside the nearest car.

Turning to face the angry mammals rushing towards him, he let out a breath of relief when the doors slid close. The train started moving, leaving the hustle and bustle of the city, Nick's emerald green eyes moving from the platform to the train car. Not seeing Judy, he pushed through the crowd of flabbergasted mammals.

"Carrots?" he called out uncertainly.

His eyes moved from seat to seat, not finding the only mammal in the world he wanted. Now at the back of the car, the fox took a deep steady breath. A sinking realization set in. It was possible Judy had changed her time to keep Nick from doing this. Tears stung his eyes as he pinched them shut and reminded himself there was still more of the train to look through.

But a curious sound had his ears perking.

Looking to his left, he spotted the door to restrooms. Stepping closer, the muffled sound of crying could barely be heard over the sound of running water. Bracing his paws on the door frame Nick opened his mouth to speak. Though he was stopped by the sudden silence on the other side of the door. And no matter how much time he was given, he would never be fully ready for her when she open it.

"Wha-" Stumbling back in surprise, Judy's eyes, red rimmed from crying, widened at the sight of him. "Nick, what the hell are you doing here."

"Marian Lane." he whispered.

Brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"My last girlfriend." Nick continued. "Her name was Marian Lane."

"O-ok?" Her frown only deepened when he wouldn't let her pass him.

"We dated six months. Met each other's families, spent every second together, the works." He looked away briefly before continuing. "She left me for someone else."

"Nick-" Her words were cut off by the look in his eyes.

"There was so much about her I didn't like. I was actually ready to end it, but it still hurt when I found out she was cheating on me. And even more so when she left." His paws moved from the door frame to grab hers and pull them to his chest. "The fallout was….. insane. We weren't together for very long, but all my family could do was pester me about it. And the funny thing is, no-one was even all that crazy about her. I wasn't even that crazy about her. But it still hurt……

"So here I have this amazing, beautiful, perfect girlfriend that I AM crazy about. That I love more than anything. Who happens to have options….. Better options than a fox who teaches forth grade……

"Judy, how do I move on when you wise up and realize I'm not worth it?" With a sad laugh and shake of his head, he lowered her paws and released them. "My parents want me to be married so badly that they gave me grief for a vixen I didn't care about. I would be disowned if the same happened with you."

Judy watched him carefully. Nodding, she stepped closer, her paws going back to his chest. Standing on her toes, she caught his lips in a kiss. Nick's tail began to wag happily, though it abruptly stopped when she pulled away and smacked him hard across the face.

"That's for giving me the worse excuse ever." She slapped him again. "And that's for lying to me AND your parents." Nick blinked in surprise at her before reaching up to rub his cheek. Though his paw fell away when she grabbed his collar again. "And this is for thinking I would ever leave you for someone else."

His tail fluffed up in shock when their lips met again. Paws went to her back, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. With a content hum, she pulled away leaving the dazed fox smiling down at her.

"I'm so sorry," Nick muttered.

"I shouldn't forgive you," she whispered back. "But I do."

Smiling he pulled her away from the restroom doorway towards a seat.

"I can't believe you bought a ticket just to apologize." Judy gave him a grin and nudged his side. "So romantic, Slick."

"Uhhhhh, yeah, about that……" He gave her a bashful look when her purple eyes widened in disbelief.

"Oh, Nick," she groaned. "You didn't."

"In my defense, it was an emergency." Eyes rolling, Judy shook her head and perked her ears towards the speakers.

"NEXT STOP PODUNK."

"Well, we can get off here. Hopefully, you'll only get a fine."

"We?" Nick asked, his voice full of hope. "Does this mean you're available for Thanksgiving tomorrow?"

Judy didn't answer as the train came to a stop. Though Nick's heart leapt when she stood to retrieve her bag from the overhead storage. He took it from her as she  reached to clasp his paw and smiled.

"Your mom would love that." she answered, finally. "And so would your dad."

"So would I," Nick said with a grin. …………

Vivian Wilde was particular vixen.

Ever organized, ever ready, the Wilde family often stood back in amazement at the grace their matriarch handled the holidays. Matthew, Jack, Skye, and Greg were dutifully assigned tasks. Under the watchful eye of Vivian, various appetizers and dishes were made and set on the beautifully decorated dinner table.

The entire time, Vivian was fuming.

Nick had promised her he would be here to help. But here they all were, slaving away while Greg's wife, Daisy, kept her baby daughter entertained, while there was still no word from Nick. Vivian looked at the stove clock and gave a low growl at the time.

"That todd is going to get a serious talking to when I see him….." she muttered.

"Now, darling, I'm sure Nick has a good reason for not being here on time." Matthew gave her a hug from behind.

The sound of knocking had everyone looking over to the front door expectantly.

"It's about time," grumbled Greg as he took his daughter from his wife.

Jack and Skye exchanged knowing looks as Vivian stomped towards the door. She began her threats as her paw reached for the knob.

"Nicholas Wilde, you're two hours late! I hope you have a good-" swinging the door open, the vixen was greeted by the sight of her son…. with his arms wrapped around Judy Hopps. "…….reason."

Vivian's eyes filled with hopeful tears as her paws went to her muzzle. Nick and Judy smiled at her as she let them in.

"Sorry I'm late, Mom," Nick took the pie from Judy and moved towards the kitchen. "My date wanted to look her best for tonight."

"I hope I'm not intruding, Vivian." The bunny gave her an unsure smile.

Shaking her head, Vivian lowered her paws and pulled her into a hug. "Never! Oh! What a great first date!"

"Uh….. About that, Mom……"

All things considered, the Wildes took the news fairly well. Vivian gave her son a look that promised a very stern lecture once Judy was gone. Greg and Daisy looked on as the bunny and their daughter bonded, the baby laughing and reaching for her whenever Judy was in the room. Jack and Skye were forgiven for not warning her about the situation after they asked Judy to be godmother of their children.

And soon, the group was sitting down to the heavily loaded table. Laughter and conversation faded away as Matthew stood up to carve the turkey. Once everyone had a full plate, Nick tapped his knife to his wine glass to get everyone's attention.

Standing, he held up his drink and looked around the table.

"I just wanted to say a few words before we dig into the wonderful meal in front of us." He turned to his parents, who smiled at each other before looking at their son. "First off, I'm thankful for my mother and father, who are always looking out and wanting the best for me. I love you both. I'm thankful for my brother and sister-in-law, for giving me the most amazing beautiful niece in the world. I'm thankful for my friends, who are always there for me, whether I want them to be or not.

"And most of all," he moved his gaze to his girlfriend, "I'm thankful for you, Judy Hopps. Thank you for accepting me, for forgiving me, for loving me unconditionally. Even when I don't deserve it. Thank you for being the most amazing, smartest, most wonderful female I've ever known. I love you, to the moon and back and I always will. I promise, I'll do everything I can to make myself worth you. Because I can't see my life without you. I love you, Carrots.

"Thank you, all of you at this table." The glass was held a little higher, everyone else copying him. "To all of you."

"To us," everyone said, clinking glasses and smiling.

He was deaf to the light applause as he sat down again. All he could focus on was Judy. She pressed herself to his side and gave him a kiss.

"I love you, too, my dumb fox."

Through out the night, everyone ate and drank. Stories were shared, Nick was lectured by ever single member of his family, and each mammal took turns guessing the genders of the kits in Skye's belly.

And when the night was over, after they cleaned up and went home, Nick and Judy lat in his bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. Judy's breathing was even and her body relaxed in her sleep. Nick brushed a paw down her ears and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She sighed and snuggled closer to him.

"I'm going to marry you," he whispered to her as she smiled in her sleep.

Because of everything he had in his life, she was who he most thankful for.