#you are a grown woman with kids maybe instead of wasting money on going on another goddamn trip for a man who literally does not care you

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

my friends should be able to beat my parents with hammers

[yanderecandystore]

ok hear me out; the twins becoming infatuated with their postman. Like they’re only around once a week to deliver bills or personal letters but the twins r still head over heels for them nontheless. bonus points if the s/o is either oblivious or obviously doesn’t reciprocate

I loved this idea so much yet I was like: Oh no wait I have to write it, how do I write it?!?!

Thanks for requesting boo! I have to apologise for not only taking so long but for me procrastinating on answering you. I've been having a difficult time, that's all, thanks for your patience!

TW/Tags: pretty short // parents are just as crazy as their children, always remember that // I tried writing this so many times ;-; none of them ended on my liking // overprotective/helicopter parents // twins being spoiled children that don't know how to do jackshit- // errors here and there because again, this was kinda hard to come up with especially with bad internet connection and sicknesses-

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

The Package [Yandere!Bully OC x Reader - Headcanon]:

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is a mommy's boy, even if his sister is considered the popular one, he recognizes that his mother loves doing what he asks her. Of course, if he asks kindly enough-

And by that I mean he makes himself sound like a good kid despite the fact he is a grown ass man trying to get his mother to buy him stuff.

It's nothing much in his opinion, he just wanted to get a new shirt he found online from a YouTuber he likes. He may not be the most affectionate person out there yet he really wanted to support that guy, they're so cool to him…

Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)

Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.

And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.

It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them in person, you were kinda surprised to see the man in front of you.

You recognized him instantly, Adrien Coldwell, a male fashion model that is kinda popular with your friend group for some reason. I mean- You see the appeal, but, eh, you don't really care enough to actually see stuff about him, yet you do know some rumours of his generally antisocial behavior, which by the looks of it seems to be true.

He… Uhn, just stands there looking at you, like he is waiting for something or…. Or he doesn't know what to do. Although his expression is a literal straight face with wide eyes, you can see small glimpses of internalized panic written over his features. You waved at him to see if he would react by coming closer and picking the package from your hands.

However he got a little surprised by your waving, so he just waved back while coming closer awkwardly, as if he needed more clues from you so he could know what to do.

"- …. You seem really socially awkward." You ended up blurting out without thinking how embarrassed you could have made him feel.

"- I uhn-" He wasn't really sure what to say, he never really took the mail inside, normally he would wait for others to bring it in, yet his mother has only allowed him to buy something if he himself would be the one to actually sign it up, bring it inside and unpack it without someone else being payed to do so. Adrien bad-mouths people on a daily basis to their faces, yet he feels a little awkward whenever he is faced with taking responsibility for once and he feels embarrassed to come across as a child that was too overly protected to actually learn how to do certain things on their own.

You felt pity on him, thinking that maybe he was just socially anxious about interacting with people, so you taught him how the process goes and how simple it is. You were accustomed with teaching people this so you weren't really taken back by it.

While you were teaching him how easy the process was, he was thinking that you were just another peasant thinking too highly of themselves to be teaching him all this simple stuff he should be aware of by now. He felt ashamed of having to be taught by someone of his own age how to do something so trivial yet the way he decided to hide his embarrassment was by dismissing you as a commoner in his head. He didn't openly say that, but he did sign his name angrily, like a bratty child.

You said bye while you decided that you had spent way too much time on only one location, you needed to move quickly to your next delivery. He didn't say "bye" because while he was feeling overly emotional about such a common situation, he accidentally said "hi" instead.

You didn't hear what he said, yet he felt even more pathetic so he clutched his package and went back inside the mansion stomping his way in.

Even after that incident, he kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that he needed to address so he could actually move on with his life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but he would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".

Adrien decided that for that day onward he would keep pestering you whenever he could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than he expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.

You could say that, well…. The days where he was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. He did feel lonely in those days.

You never really reacted to his mean blunt comments, were you even aware of his intentions at all? Maybe you didn't want to react purposely, or maybe you only recognised that attitude as his way to communicate since you never stopped thinking he was really shy and awkward. You did hear rumours of him being pretty blunt and "too honest", so you treated it as a normal thing.

Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-

Maybe… Maybe he is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess he simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can he do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-

But, hey… Maybe his parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost him a lot of effort, but something tells him that his mother would gladly help him find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra is a daddy's girl, even if she is considered the most popular of the two, she doesn't have that good of a relationship with her mother, but her father on the other hand will give her anything she asks if she makes a pouty pitiful face-

Her next big project involved getting sparkly rollerblades she found online. Yes, they were pretty tacky, but hey! Give her some slack! They were beautiful to her, okay??

Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)

Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.

And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.

It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them, you were kinda surprised to see the woman in front of you.

You do know about the rumours surrounding the Coldwells about them being pretty outspoken and being extremely social people, yet you couldn't really confirm that fact since the woman standing in your presence hasn't even looked at you directly ever since you came closer to her home.

She did wave at you, although the smile she gave you was kinda fake. As if she was holding her laughter or something, you aren't so sure of what she could be laughing about though.

You instantly recognized her, miss Alexandra Coldwell, the female fashion model that you heard about because your friends are a bunch of simps- I mean, you do see why, but- I don't know, you're not here to drool over her, you're here to give her the package in your hands.

Alexandra kept tapping her foot and looking at each side as if she was waiting for someone while you stayed still, awkwardly waiting for her to catch the fact you're standing there.

It takes her some time to acknowledge your presence and remember exactly why she was standing there in the first place. She was kinda hoping someone else would pick her mail for her, so that's why she kept waiting for so long. Alexandra forgot her dad made her promise she would be the one to take it inside instead of calling a "servant" to pick it for her, oops.

"- Oh! Oh…." She suddenly realized that not only and her been waiting someone to instantly help her, but she was now being obligated to interact with you, a peasant-

"- Oh well…. Uhn, hi- How are you today?" She asked while trying her best to sound confident and not at all bothered by that ugly ass uniform your department gave you-

You interpreted that maybe she wasn't expecting you? Eh, either way you gave her the package after asking her to sign her name, and then went back to your usual day.

Although it was the most normal and simplest of interactions she ever had, Alexandra was dumbfounded by how simple it was, it's funny how a person as old as her still struggles with these common things due to either social anxiety or not the greatest parenting growling up.

Still, she felt kinda humiliated to be taught how to do such a simple task as taking the mail by someone wearing a ugly uniform-

Even after that incident, she kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that she needed to address so she could actually move on with her life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but she would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".

Alexandra decided that for that day onward she would keep pestering you whenever she could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than she expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.

You could say that, well…. The days where she was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. She did feel lonely in those days.

You've never really caught her spiteful tone, have you? You either ignored it or treated as Alexandra's way of joking with you, since you've heard she has a tendency to do that a lot.

Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-

Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess she simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can she do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-

But, hey… Maybe her parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost her a lot of effort, but something tells her that her father would gladly help her find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[sopxhiea]

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: The familiar face Alfie stumbles upon finds her way into his sheets but there’s more than one risk the two are taking.

Part 1

“Where have you been all my life?” ‘Hiding from you.’

There’s a soft knock on the door followed by someone’s footsteps. They mumble something about a new buyer in this part of town, someone powerful but there’s no response. Your hand reaches for the coffee mug, you don’t remember when it came in or who put it but you grasp it tightly anyway.

It’s cold.

A sigh leaves your lips, frustration evident in your eyes while your eyes scan the room. It’s full of papers, work to go over and things to read so you make sure you don’t ruin the empire bestowed upon you by your deceased parents. You rub your eyes, your assistant comes in.

He tells you something about your brother’s whereabouts. You hate his guts, he wastes all his time and still gets his end of the profits. You hate the days where you’re stuck in the office, signing and reading papers you know are going to be thrown out once you secure the business but it has to be done. You look at the afternoon sky, the sun is beaming but you can tell it’s hotter than it looks.

He didn’t call.

The man who you thought would be your escape now seems like a distant memory. You’d thought he’d call and tell you that no matter just how fucked up it all sounds, he was willing to sleep with the enemy. You hadn’t waited in front of the phone but it had been in the back of your mind since yesterday when you’d made the offer.

It might be the past, you think. The first time Alfie saw you was when you were a mere teenager, grumpy and witty but those things hadn’t changed even though it had been four long years since the last time you’d seen him. He might still view you as that little girl, fragile and helpless but you’re more than sure he’s at least heard about you around and the things he heard would prove that you were the exact opposite of that little girl.

You try not to dwell on it but it’s all you can think of.

But you’re also grown, with more responsibilities than you were bargained for so you get to work. Reading paper after paper until your eyes can no longer stand the yellow material, you put your glasses on the table while your fingers reach to rub your eyes. It’s a dreadful day and the absence of his call makes it all worse.

You hear your assistant come in after a while, first he drops of some papers for you to have a look and then hands you a little envelope. You eye the white material, the stamp looks unfamiliar to you while you open the envelope as fast as you possibly can. You assistant watches the whole time, worried that it’s a threat of some sort to you or the company since it’s happened before.

You pull out the small card inside, having a look over before it hits you. With a motion of your hand, the assistant is gone and you’re left alone with the card. You can see it’s hand-written by someone else but you know they’re Alfie’s words. There’s not a lot of written words but somehow he manages to summarise a paragraph with only a couple sentences. You reach the end, giddy like a small kid.

You shake your head but the words make you feel warm inside like you’re in your younger years again. You read while a childish smile picks up on your lips.  “Let’s do this.”

-----------

The room feels cold but in a pleasant way. It’s sunny out, the drapes open and close each time the wind hits them with a gentle breeze. You hear the sounds of his heavy breathing, it fills you with comfort. It’s not everyday that you wake up next to a man let alone Alfie, it feels new yet very welcomed.

It’s casual, you say to yourself.

After yesterday’s letter, you’d found him waiting like a hungry animal at your doorstep. There were no questions asked, not by him nor you because you’d agreed that this was a lethal secret. You were enemies, not a dear couple since the universe seemed to have its cruel ways. 

Then it happened.

It was your skin against his while you tried to regain your breath, he was almost too good in bed if you thought about it too much. He’d worshipped you last night, that was the only way to put it. A smile formed on your sleepy lips as you got up to wash your face, waking him up in the process but he chose to watch than to intrude.

You started brushing your teeth when he came in the bathroom, giving you a dense look you chose to ignore since excitement seemed to be somewhere in there in his eyes. You couldn’t afford to fancy him, you’d settle for sleeping with him instead. 

He was the enemy.

His soft lips met your shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on the skin before washing his face. You watched him in his natural habitat, away from his scary looking cane and his dear assistant and the piles of papers with guns hidden behind them, it was just him.

He seemed younger somehow. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but he wasn’t so intimidating when he was like this, hair disheveled while he gave you a soft smile. He seemed more human and less of a gangster these streets made him out to be. 

“You’re starin’, luv.” he spoke, voice hoarse since it was early in the morning. He eyes your form, barely covered with the thin nightgown you were wearing but he’d seen all of you last night anyway, there was no reason to be ashamed.

“Are you complaining?” you asked after you were done brushing your teeth, eyeing his tattoos as they moved under the morning light. He looked picturesque.

“Didn’t say that, now, did I?” he spoke, amusement evident in his tone while he refrained from cursing as much as possible. You were a proper lady after all, not the rosy cheeked girl he once knew.

You led him through the corridor of your house, there was no one around despite the place being a mini mansion of sorts. One of the first things you’d done after bagging a lot of money was to invest them and that came in forms of houses in your terms. You’d told everyone of the house staff to go home for a day or two, you could manage and you had to when he was around, you couldn’t afford people seeing him with you.

He followed your lead like a lost puppy while you made your way towards the kitchen. It was way too big for one person but the staff usually ate with you so the space was frequently used. He watched you as you opened a couple drawers and took some stuff out, eggs and a pan and all that.

Turning towards him, you offered the most neutral smile you had at your disposal and spoke with a soft voice, he swore you looked like an angel in the morning light.

“How you do like your eggs, mister?” you asked, sassily as his lips formed his usual smirk. He was the man you adored all those years after all.

He still saw the little girl in you, the cheeky one who’d wear things that you knew would get him riled up that summer you returned as a younger woman. You were eighteen, trying to get the attention of the handsome gangster but he’d been wise to ignore the temptations.

Now that you were grown, he didn’t need to do that anymore. 

“Same as yours, miss.” he spoke, his low voice made you chuckle and you turned your back to him while getting breakfast ready.

He could very well cook himself, but he thinks he’d rather watch you do it. 

He blames himself for all the years that have gone by without you. Your playful self last saw him as an eighteen year old girl who was too smart for her own good but now you’re a little older. It’s been over four years since the gangster has seen you and he concludes, while still watching you make breakfast, that the rumours are true.

You are as whimsical as they said you’d grown to be.

He helps you set the table by putting the dishes on it and a couple more stuff from the fridge. You watch with protective eyes, trying to put up some sort of defence while the man manages to break every stereotype you thought he fit in. You find yourself sitting across his shirtless self while he slowly eats, not making a sound like he usually does while devouring his meals. He wants to be as proper as possible.

He knows this isn’t conventional.

“So how’s this goin’ to fuckin’ work, luv?” he speaks while watching you with the corner of his eye. His hands gestured in between you to show that he was talking about what had happened last night.

“I..uhm..” you say, a little taken aback but you welcome his bluntness. “I told the staff to steer clear for a couple days in case you were to visit.” you speak, getting ready to list a couple more things as he eats like a fine gentlemen, there’s a soft hum erupting from his lips each time you speak. 

“We’ll just be as discreet as possible, not alarm anyone of the possibility of......this.” you finish, hands copying the same move he did just a couple minutes prior as your fingers address him and then you.

He nods while another soft hum erupts from his large body, you watch him in amazement. It’s a wonder just how gentle this giant bear of a man is capable of being. He’s not the Alfie you knew all those years ago, you’re not sure anyway. You never saw him like this, bare and stripped from any danger. His gun is somewhere in his office drawer miles away and he doesn’t have a protective dog to bite anyone’s head off.

“Ya’ think it was a fuckin’ mistake?” he speaks and the words make you put your fork down. Maybe, he’s regretting this.

He watches you as you answer, not an ounce of doubt or fear in your eyes while he watches you speak with the shake of your head.

“No, I don’t. In fact, I quite enjoyed myself last night.” you speak, daring eyes matching his as he smiles, its cockiness mixed with pride.

“Could tell that from how fuckin’ loud ya’ were, doll.” he says with a chuckle but you know his words to be a joke so you kick him lightly under the table, it makes him drop his fork on to the tablecloth and he seems taken aback more than anything while staring at you with wide eyes.

“What the fuck are ya’ on about, woman!” he says but again, it’s lighthearted. You chuckle at his words, your smile is devilish against your lips while he waits for you to speak, a smile similar to yours find its way on his lips.

“It’s so that you be more careful with your words next time, luv.” you speak, mimicking him at the last part of your sentence while he watches you with amazement, then hunger takes over his features but he settles on eating the meal on the table than you at that given moment. Although he much prefers the second option.

He shakes his head. You’re still a kid inside, the little girl he knew and he can tell. You still posses the same attitude and the wittiness but there’s an elegance to you that comes with age, you’re more poised. The teenager who used to interrupt business meetings because the room was too hot is now the one making the deals, his eyes glisten at the thought.

“Do you think it was?” you speak, eyes not meeting his because there’s an evident trace of fear in your tone. He watches you act calm but your eyes tell the truth.

“A fuckin’ mistake?” he asks, deliberately trying to make you wait for the answer mostly because he enjoys the way a pink hue forms on your cheeks. You nod, not a word comes from your mouth but you answer the question regardless.

“Nah..” he speaks, he takes a slow sip of the tea in front of him, purposefully torturing you but you don’t give up that easy. You remain calm. “If anything, yeah, It was a fuckin’ miracle was wha’ it was.” he speaks once again and you release your breath. You hate how much he enjoys teasing you but you hate yourself more for falling for his small traps every time.

Then, he watches you light up.

Your cheeks are pink still but it’s more from happiness than fear of embarrassment. You let go of the spoon next to your tea cup softly while exhaling, your eyes sparkle under the morning sun and he watches the way your hair moves with the breeze coming from the window nearby. It’s just like he’s staring at a painting and he speaks before his mind can stop him, like a fool.

“Where have you been all my life?” His voice is hoarse, too rough even but you make the words out.

You don’t miss the sentence, it’s clear as day of anything. The whole morning up until that point, you spend the minutes reminding yourself that he is in fact the enemy. It’s a casual thing you both agreed on, nonchalant but also highly risky. And his words don’t make it easier on the walls built around your heart.

But you’re not to one to fall in love so easily, you’ve been a project in the making by your father and the walls are made of steel.

He can’t melt them.

‘Hiding from you.’ you speak, a small smile on your lips that’s only half genuine but he doesn’t pick up on it, he possibly can’t.

So instead he laughs, it’s another taken aback chuckle at first that turns into a loud laughter that fills the room. It’s pleasant if anything. You don’t find yourself trying to find excuses to get out like each time your brother laughs. Alfie’s laugh is much more heartwarming.

“We better get going.” you speak, voice soft but the words are demanding as his eyes bore into yours.

He doesn’t say anything but agree with the nod of his head. You ignore the next few moments while he helps you tidy up. His finger brushes against your shoulder, electricity resides there for a couple minutes but you don’t think about it. You also don’t think about the way his hand finds your waist to get you out of the way so he can put the pan back on the higher shelf where you can’t reach.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re out.

-----

“We can’t possibly make business with him!” you brother shouts from the other end of the room, you can see how furious he is but it’s better than you’d expected.

You look at him right in the eye and wait for another word, you know he’s not done. Your eyes don’t leave his figure while he paces around the room, very furious but you’re mad at yourself for suggesting such a thing.

To make a deal with the enemy. The enemy that slept on your bed with his arms around you last night, to be exact.

“He’s a fucking madman! Have you got no sense?” you hear Jack’s voice booming around the place but you’re not fully there. Your mind is off wandering how you’ll try to console him after your stupid words.

“Alright, calm down.” you speak, walking towards him in a calm manner but he doesn’t seem a tad suspicious. You count on the fact that Jack has never been the smartest. “It was just a suggestion, okay? We’ll find some other way to go about it.” you say while stroking his arm, his hair is disheveled and you know he’s heading for the pub when he walks out abruptly. 

You stare at the empty walls the moment he slams the door on your face, there’s no use of calling behind him or trying to get him to stop. You’ll have him picked up from the bar at midnight by the driver, you know he’s going to be drinking his weight. 

It’s no wonder why he’d reacted the way he did, Alfie had never been a pleasant memory for the whole family. He was the one making the dangerous deals, the ones a dozen men would get killed for. And although you did not mind at all, he had also done some damage to your family’s business at the time, one that got out of hand after a while.

You didn’t blame him for it, he wasn’t the sole reason. It was mostly your father’s fault for thinking he could crack more than a couple deals with his rivals and it had blown up on his face, naturally. Alfie’s name was thrown around for a while, for the things he’d done and the crimes he’d committed but you’d always excuse yourself.

It wasn’t because his hands were bloody, yours were the same now. You had seen his kindness in the business meetings, mostly towards you since the rest of your family happened to be insufferable. Your father was all the same, he’d done just as terrible things as Alfie but he lacked mercy at the side. 

You picked up the telephone and started dialling, there were one too many things going on in your mind and you desperately needed some common sense. So you called the only man you knew could be objective. 

He was fast to pick up.

“Hey....It’s me. Could I see you today?”

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​ @bicevans​ @mollybegger-blog  @97freaknik.  @fuseburner  

[tcookies777]

Here is a sneak peek at a side story I've written for The Anatomy of Love (a KakaSaku modern college au - AO3 hyperlink included)! You don't need to have read the fic to read this side story since this is a flashback to Kakashi's past when he was a teen, but it does help to understand since it's in the context of the fic itself!

The Anatomy of Love: Side Story - What He's Looking For

About 17 years ago on a sunny September day...

They'd raised the prices on the gum again. Under normal circumstances, Kakashi would've thought that was absurd. Really, 4 ryos for a few sticks of gum with a strawberry flavor that would last for only—what?—fifty chews? But it was also understandable given that the war efforts required such generous financial contributions. Money didn't grow on trees and soldiers didn't come back to life. It was to be expected that the economy would tank during war, but looking at the propaganda posters, anyone would think Fire country was thriving. It was the exact opposite, however, and the high inflation, budget deficits, rise in taxes, and reduced consumption of goods only proved that. So he was loathed to think that he would have to waste a couple of ryo on a pack of gum, but he also wanted to support the soldiers on the frontlines.

With a sigh of defeat, he snatched the pack of gum off the stand before traipsing further down the store in search of his journey's main quest item. There wasn't really much supply to offer these days, and even less food to fill the shelves. But Kakashi wasn't here today to buy some bread or milk, so he had no need to worry about that. All he needed to worry about was looking for the right condoms. And as he entered the aisle of pleasure to peruse his selection for the day, his presence did not go by without notice from a nearby clerk. It was not entirely unusual to see a boy in this aisle, but the clerk had certainly not anticipated that the purpose of the boy's presence here was for contraception. Perhaps he thought the boy was buying for his father, or maybe even an older friend—which, technically, Kakashi suppose he was. But the clerk seemed adamant in keeping his eye on him and Kakashi did his best to ignore him. There was also the possibility that the guy thought he was a shoplifter. After all, despite the clean way Kakashi dressed in his slim dark jeans and olive shirt, he did have the rugged gaze of a kid who'd been beaten up by life but was now ready to fight back. That, and the apathetic darkness in his eyes tended to disturb adults whenever they encountered a kid who was too young to look at them like they were the ones who were younger.

Although, to be fair with the clerk, there had been an increase in theft and street crime ever since the war had started, so Kakashi didn't blame the guy for dogging after him up and down the aisle.

"Uh, hi…?"

The words came muffled through Kakashi's headphones. With a heavy sigh, he slowly reached up and tugged the headphones down to let them rest on his shoulders, but the music continued to blare loudly through both sides of the speakers. The clerk's brow twitched when the boy in front of him still didn't even spare him a glance.

A throat was cleared, and then, "Hi?"

Finally turning to meet the annoyed face of the man, Kakashi crinkled his eyes at him. "Yes, I heard you the first time."

The clerk's brows twitched harder and he shuffled a step closer, still not quite sure how to approach him or maybe the subject before them. "Uh, did you need help finding anything today?" he asked in a peppy voice, remembering to plaster his customer-service smile back on.

"What kind of condoms would a girl like?"

The clerk blinked at him. "P-Pardon?"

"What kind of condoms would a girl like?"

Realizing the boy wasn't joking, the guy's face reddened and he stammered, "I-I-I do-don't know!"

Hmm, pity. "Then I guess you can't help me," Kakashi sighed out, wandering further down the aisle to let the guy lick his wounds.

Ignoring the aghast look cast his way, Kakashi studied a box of condoms that were of various colors and various tropical flavors including strawberry, apple, orange, banana, and—oh!—even cherry. If his suspicions were correct, however, he doubted anyone would appreciate a cherry-flavored condom that tasted more medicinal than fruity. Still, maybe Sakae wouldn't care. She'd always had a wicked tongue that could handle the taste of anything, which Kakashi had learned when she'd swallowed down his cum like she was sucking up the last dregs of a vanilla milkshake.

But Kakashi set down the box and picked up the standard, ultra-fine lubricated condoms instead.

Tonight, he didn't plan to get another blowjob in the back of an abandoned lot. Tonight was meant to be the first lay of his life if he played all his cards right, which he'd had no problem doing so in the past few weeks since the night of his birthday when Sakae had taken him into the backyard to give him his first kiss. Even if the kiss had happened through his mask, she'd liked it enough to guide his hand to her generous breasts which he'd always taken the time to admire during dinners when she'd eat across him with her breasts resting on the edge of the table so that he could study the way a stray crumb would disappear down the same cleavage he often dreamt of burying his face in. And then the week after that, he'd guided her hand to cup him through his jeans, encouraging her to slip that hand down his pants and fist his cock well enough to make him burst into the cage of her fingers. The next week, it was her turn to guide his hand down her shorts too.

It should have left him quivering with trepidation when he'd slipped his finger inside her the first time, hearing her cry out either from pain or pleasure or both. Instead, Kakashi had felt no sense of fear or anxiety—or anything, really, save for the sense of satisfaction and curiosity as he explored the velvet insides of a girl for the first time. His fingers had to have been good enough if it eventually had Sakae collapsing against him, shaking and whimpering as if she was in pain but smiling like she enjoyed it. And so it was last week when Kakashi had to tug his mask back on and pull his face out from between her legs to ask if she could repeat what she'd just said.

'If you can get your hands on a condom, I'll do it with you.'

'Do what?' he'd asked her, her orgasm staining the thin cloth of his mask.

'Sex,' she'd purred in his ear, just as he'd expected.

And so in Kakashi's young but precocious mind, of course it only made sense that he would obey the lady's wishes—as well as his own—and seek out the item of his quest. As it was now, he tossed the box of condoms in his hand much like he would as if he was a character from a video game doing a little victory jig, tossing his trophy in a show of smug triumph.

But because it was still too early in the noon to return to the orphanage and catch Mrs. Matsuda breathing fire out her mouth with more bitching, he took a turn into the next aisle full of baby diapers. The efflorescent smell of baby wipes assaulted his nose, sweet as a baby's bum and much to odoriferous for Kakashi's tastes. Then again, he'd always despised the pungent chemicals of perfume. However, the stray pug in the alley across school was in desperate need of diapers since his crippled hind legs always trailed right through his own filth and feces, and Kakashi had grown tired of bathing the old dog daily with a neighbor's sort-of borrowed hose.

In the midst of studying the difference between 'disposable diapers' and 'disposable underwear', Kakashi was indifferent to the cart that rolled up near him just a respectable foot away. At the background of his thoughts regarding the expensive cons of disposable underwear, a woman's voice spoke aloud, her words lashing out with the venomous bite of anger. She wasn't speaking to him, of course, since he definitely had nothing to do with the 'sorry piece of sods who didn't know a leaf from a ryo bill'.

Inclined to give her a wide berth and let the lady yell into the phone without breaking his left eardrum, Kakashi sidled over a step or two. Apparently, it wasn't enough distance, however, as he felt something bump the side of his left sneaker.

He peered down from the disposable diapers and to the stuffed sloth that had somehow ended up against his shoe. Picking it up, he frowned at the sloth that was barely the size of his one hand. Just then his nose wrinkled at the scent that permeated from the stuffed toy—milk that seemed to have been churned up in the stomach and spat back out. Nose still wrinkled, he quickly adjusted his grip so that it was only his finger and thumb that pinched the ear of the sloth.

A quiet cooing sound quickly stole his attention away and to the side where a baby in a cart stared curiously at him. She was dressed in a hideous tuft of pink that nearly swallowed her whole with two chubby little feet poking out from beneath.

Kakashi glimpsed at the woman who was still berating whoever the poor soul was on the other end of the phone. Her back was turned, and she'd taken too many steps away from the child in her cart to notice Kakashi approaching the babe.

Sure enough, she smelled like milk and baby wipes. But there was also another softer, more subtle sweet scent beneath. Not quite aromatic like perfume, but it clung to her gently as if someone's perfume might've rubbed off on her rosy, chubby cheeks after one too many kisses or cuddles. Or maybe she'd just gone rolling down a hill of flowers—cherry blossoms, it smelled like—for all he knew. He didn't know what babies did in their free time besides piss, poop, and play anyway.

"Here," Kakashi muttered quietly, dumping the sloth in the cloud of pink tulle that was the baby's skirt.

Large spring green eyes blinked up at him as if she was asking, 'what the fuck is this doing on my lap?'

He shrugged and stepped away to return his attention to the shelf of diapers. But no sooner did he pick up a pack when he felt another nudge against his left shoe again. He glanced down at the sloth smiling up at him from its position by his shoe, and then he glanced over to the baby in the cart.

She was staring almost expectantly at him as if to say, 'pick it up, dumbass'. Or maybe she was just curious why a boy was wearing a mask when nobody else was. Perhaps she thought he was a creature of the night come to nom on the fat rolls of her thighs and this was her way of testing him. Nah, babies were curious oddities but not too astute.

With a roll of his eyes, Kakashi bent down to retrieve the sloth whose smile seemed more derisive than friendly now. While the mother was still turned away and barking into the phone, he pressed the sloth toy more firmly, insistently to the baby's front.

There it was again, those big eyes staring up at him like saucers of green tea. Huh, now that he thought of it, he hadn't had a cup of tea in a while. Rin had given away the last pack to a younger kid who'd wasted it down the drain anyway. Shit, but he remembered the prices for green tea had risen too. Oh well.

Taking a step away from the baby, Kakashi was miffed when she suddenly threw down her sloth at his feet again before he'd even had the chance to look away from her. He frowned and glared over at the mother who couldn't be bothered to keep a better eye on her daughter who'd decided only a few months old wasn't too young to start acting like a bratty princess already. A bratty princess who was treating him like her dog that she was playing fetch with, he realized belatedly.

As if to assert her royal if infantile position, she looked up at him, spring green orbs glittering with pure mirth as a gummy smile broke out on her face. Kakashi raised a brow at her, none too impressed when a wave of drool spilled down petal-pink lips and painted her poor sloth's face in saliva so that it looked like it was crying for help now.

Sighing quietly, Kakashi shook his head and decided to make his retreat from the diaper aisle. This was a battle he could not win, and the baby only proved that with a gleeful 'mah!' as she waved her hands, gesticulating in a language he could not begin to comprehend beyond grabby, chubby hands reaching for him. The further he retreated down the aisle, the more she kicked up a fuss, kicking up her tiny feet too. Her mother peeked over a shoulder for a split-second but looked away when she saw her baby was fussing for no reason.

Just as Kakashi turned the corner, he caught a glimpse of the baby tossing her sloth back down to the floor like it was her means of summoning her new dog to play fetch with her at her beck and call. Yeah, well, that went against Kakashi's domineering nature and so he stuffed his hands to search for the literature section.

Much to his pleasure, the books were kept at the back of the store where he could read through them in private without a clerk judging him for not paying for the paperback service instead. Much to his disappointment, however, there was no Make-Out Paradise and the selection of books was few and far between, and not to mention somewhat outdated since all the covers were easily recognizable from the days that he'd spent poring through them. Despite the pitiful collection of paperbacks collecting dust in the hopes a perverted reader might spread open their covers and peruse their naughty tales, Kakashi's attention zeroed in on the single brand-new hardcover tempting him with the 10% off sticker. Even more tempting was the cover art of a high school girl wearing a blouse that was buttoned just enough to keep from flashing a nipple, her tennis skirt a plaid black and red color to imitate the style of a uniform a private school girl was mandated to wear. A private school girl who wore that sultry smile just as well as she wore the necktie hanging loosely around her shoulders and arranged to cover a pair of hardened nipples.

Cracking open the cover, Kakashi inhaled the scent of fresh paper and ink first before glimpsing the first string of words that sat beneath the chapter title. He breezed through the first page, mouth quirking up when he recognized the set up for a good fucking. By the third page, however, his small smile had disappeared once he realized the setup was just that: a setup. No fucking. It was even more disconcerting when he flipped through the pages more quickly and concluded that most of the story was just one agonizingly slow striptease that he had neither the time nor patience for. He could even already see the ending from a mile away just by the building premise riddled with clichés and tropes: the professor gets caught and blamed for his sordid affair while his seductive mastermind of a student twiddles her thumbs in a very plausible show of innocence that hid her conniving smile. Of course, the man who gives in to temptation must always be punished for it in the end. It was a theme Kakashi was consistently seeing in almost every book he read.

With a huff of disappointment, he returned the book to the shelf where it could sit with its siblings to collect its own film of dust.

Straying his eyes over to the magazine section, Kakashi hummed in contemplation as he eyed the cover of a girl drawing the shape of a heart over her exposed lower belly with both hands, a peeled banana angled to censor her pussy. He picked up that magazine, flipping over to the section of the sex tips, most of which he already knew and had already practiced several times with Sakae. But, just for good measure, he decided to review the part that advised him how to last long during sexual intercourse.

It was when he was in the middle of studying about technique over speed did the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rose up at the same time the smell of tobacco and rotten garbage flooded his nose. Kakashi was about to gag but stopped himself when a man stepped into the aisle—into his peripheral view. There was nothing unusual about the guy as he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt sporting a rock band that had broken up too long ago for Kakashi to even know who they were. What was unusual, however, was the baby hoisted against his hip. The monstrous pink tulle skirt was fluffed up to block her face, but he recognized that hideous dress that nearly swallowed her.

The stench of tobacco and garbage grew stronger as the man stepped closer, and it overpowered the delicate scent of baby milk. Despite having never been a parent before, and certainly not old enough to even have a child, Kakashi was still aware that it was never a good idea to smoke in the presence of a pregnant woman or newborn child. If Rin were with him right now, he had no doubt she would instantly spin on her heel to give the man a good tongue-lashing. And even though Rin wasn't with him right now, he could still feel her elbowing his ribs hard to get him to stop the man.

So with a sigh, he lowered the magazine from his face and sidled his eyes over just to check if the man had some sort of joint in his hand. Nope, nothing but the toy sloth. Kakashi flicked his eyes over to the baby who kept squirming in the man's arms, whining quietly as she swiveled her head left and right as if in search of something. Her toy? No...

Her mom.

Kakashi turned his cheek to glance at the back exit of the store that was reserved for employee use. Just as the man was about to sweep by him, Kakashi dropped the magazine right in his line of path and quickly moved to intercept. The man jerked to a stop, visibly disgruntled by a boy's ass blocking his path to the exit.

"Oh, what a cute baby you've got there," Kakashi drawled out, standing up to set the magazine of sex tips aside. The man paused at the sight of the boy giving him a crease-eyed smile that seemed friendly enough, but hesitation still flickered through his scowling face. Nonplussed, Kakashi tilted his head to the baby beginning to squirm. "What's her name?"

"Hana," the man grunted, moving to step around him.

Kakashi stepped with him, still effectively blocking his path and still smiling beneath his mask although the crinkle of his eyes had smoothened away to display the dead apathy in his gaze. "But that's not really her name, is it?"

The man's eyes widened by a fraction and he stepped back, dropping the sloth toy to reach for something at his back. But Kakashi's instincts were razor-sharp as well, honed by the many late-night street fights he'd often get into on nights when he had trouble sleeping. So before the man could pull out his gun, Kakashi had already pulled out his own pocketknife in a flash and sunk the blade all the way into the man's eyeball so that the hilt rested against the brow bone.

There was an audible 'squelch' that had the baby whimpering louder in distress while Kakashi impassively watched red dribble over the bottom lid of the stabbed eye. The blood started to trickle down a scraggly beard. The man let out a gasp, still staring in surprise at Kakashi as if he couldn't register the knife that'd been jammed into his head or the baby calmly taken from his stiff arms. He stumbled back, reaching up a shaky hand as if considering pulling the knife out even though that would mean taking his eye out with it. With one last gasp, he toppled onto the floor, his one good eye now staring listlessly at Kakashi's scuffed sneakers.

The blood started to pool out from his head rapidly now, spreading across the shiny epoxy flooring of the store. Before the blood could stain the sloth toy, Kakashi swooped down to pluck it off the floor. The baby had stopped her whimpering, looking on curiously as he pressed the toy to her chest.

"This is the last time I'm picking it up for you," Kakashi warned her. "I'm not your dog."

Instead of breaking into tears under his irritated gaze, however, she defiantly dropped her toy sloth (away from the pool of blood, thankfully) in favor of grabbing for Kakashi's face. Faster than he could react this time, she had yanked down his mask to paw and smack his mouth with hands that had probably been in her mouth too. Kakashi's nose wrinkled once more at the weird, somewhat sweet milky scent that he was only now figuring out was indeed saliva.

He jerked his face back in disgust, but that only served to give her a better view of his mouth. She paused, big jade orbs widening at his lips and she broke out into another gummy smile before leaning forth, mouth open like she planned to give him either a great big wet smooch or a great big gummy bite.

"Why not save that for your mom?" He frowned at the river of drool spilling down her chin.

"Agooo!" she squealed gleefully.

"Uh… bless you?"

No longer holding back a cringe, Kakashi held her further away, glancing down when his shoes felt slippery on the floor. He belatedly realized he was now standing in a puddle of blood. And among the sharp scent of copper and the gentle smell of milk, there was now a foul odor that stung his nose and this time Kakashi did gag. The baby giggled aloud, prompting him to glare at her. She only responded with another fart and then a giggle. Kakashi rolled his eyes, adjusting her onto his hip so that he could pull his mask back over his nose even though it wouldn't help much.

"SAKURA!" A woman's voice screamed out—the same woman who'd been too busy arguing on the phone earlier to notice her baby playing fetch with a boy shortly before getting kidnapped by a man.

The woman rushed over in a panic, face flustered with tears and fear. She wrested her baby from Kakashi's arms, glaring murderously at him like he was the culprit and not the dead man on the floor. Well, dead men couldn't tell any tales, so it fell upon Kakashi's shoulders to explain what happened. Maybe it was better to start from the beginning instead of jumping right into the scene where he stabbed the guy's eye out on a hunch. Now the woman was hysterical, crying over her baby's safety and the horror of a dead man on the floor. The woman was still eyeing him warily as the clerk came around to see what all the screaming and blubbering was about. Then he, too, screamed at the dead body on the floor. Which had then resulted in Kakashi retelling his story from the beginning again, this time including how the little babe still farting in her mother's arms had attempted to make Kakashi her toy dog to play fetch with.

The mother hadn't taken too kindly to that part, of course, even though it was the truth and she had demanded him to tell the story all the way from the beginning.

And then the cops had come and now Kakashi was getting really tired of retelling the same story all over again. At this rate, Rin would give him an earful when he got home if Mrs. Matsuda hadn't already blown out his eardrums by then. Of course, it was only until the officers had gotten his statement did they go bother to check the camera footage. And it was only until every microsecond was picked apart and the man was confirmed to have a gun on him did the officers decide to let Kakashi go. If Kakashi had to be honest, he'd thought the police would let him go once he'd mentioned the name 'Sakumo Hatake' to them. Alas, they were too bewildered by the fact that a teenage boy was able to take down a kidnapper with multiple felonies in the blink of an eye. So the fact that said teenage boy was the son of Sakumo Hatake was more or less glazed over.

When the reporters had finally come, it was just a motley crew of young journalists that looked like they were more interested in ordering some burgers than reporting a mere kidnapping attempt. Kakashi couldn't blame them. A burger and a milkshake sound good, he thought to himself, too absentminded when the baby was shoved back into his arms again, this time by her mother who now seemed to have flipped a switch and was giving him—or rather the reporters taking pictures of them—a saccharine smile instead of the accusing scowl from earlier.

One of the reporters had the gall to say, 'smile!' when Kakashi had been forced to pose for a picture, holding the baby against his hip and against his will. Even beneath his mask, it was hard to attempt a smile when she kept making grabby hands at his face. Tufts of pale pink hair tickled his cheek when the mother managed to wrangle her cooing daughter to hold still for just one photo.

"She needs her diapers changed," Kakashi sniffed, all too happy to give the baby back before she really did start treating him like a toy dog to yank around with her.

When the journalists trailed after him in an attempt for an interview, they at least had the common sense to realize their efforts were futile as Kakashi easily sniped them down with curt, one-word answers. Although he'd found it amusing to see them tripping over the cords of their microphones, he was ecstatic (inwardly) when the crew had finally given up and left, having not much else to report but maybe a two-hundred-word essay at most.

Good. He didn't need Mrs. Matsuda blowing up in his face the moment he stepped back inside the orphanage. Not when she was already a ticking time bomb ready to explode over his tardiness and other riff-raff nonsense. She already had disdain for his recalcitrant behavior, and he was sure she was keeping a list of all his shameless shenanigans.

Which was why he hurriedly dumped his box of condoms, the diapers, and the pack of bubblegum on the counter. The clerk, still quietly bemoaning his inevitable duty to clean up the blood at the other side of the store, flinched when Kakashi slapped a ryo bill in front of him.

Only a few years older, the clerk eyed the condoms warily before shifting his attention to the boy who'd just killed a guy like he'd only been playing pin the tail on the donkey—or eye, in this case. "Uh… how old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"You're pretty young."

"There's no age minimum to purchase condoms."

"Yeah, but I mean… aren't you a lil' too young to be..." The clerk trailed off unsurely.

"Fucking?" Kakashi finished for him, deadpan. "Or did you mean killing?"

It was a sincere question. He really didn't know if the clerk was raising his brow because of the condoms between them or because of the pool of blood further away. Or maybe his apathetic attitude to it all exacerbated the awkward atmosphere that reeked faintly of blood still.

There was also the option to just brag to the guy that he was old enough to already have a college degree under his belt and would have his Masters by fifteen years old. After all, prodigies like Kakashi didn't need to follow the guidelines of how to grow up like a normal child. He was far from normal, and they both knew it after what had just transpired today. But Kakashi found it more amusing to see the guy shiver visibly in distraught of how fucked up in the head this kid in front of him had to be to walk away from a crime scene like it was a walk through the park.

"Give me a pack of Spinel," Kakashi nodded to the cigarettes behind the counter.

The clerk hesitated once again. Clearly, fourteen years old was not quite old enough to buy cancer sticks like they were lollipops. But considering what this kid had just done to a full-grown man earlier and without so much as a blink of an eye... Smoking a cigarette seemed to be harmless when compared to killing a man.

With his condoms, diapers, bubblegum, and Spinel cigarettes now packed in a plastic bag, Kakashi crinkled his eyes at the clerk who shivered again when he realized it was the same expression he had just before killing a man. Unperturbed, Kakashi made his way out of the store, but not without suggesting aloud that they restock the literary section for the poor, depraved souls in desperate need of a raunchy book to soothe the ache of their groins.

On his way back to the orphanage, Kakashi stopped by the corner for a quick smoke. He counted his puffs carefully. Mrs. Matsuda had given up warning him of the addiction to nicotine he would develop sooner or later, but she underestimated him. The shrewd woman liked to believe that she knew him like the back of her hand just because he'd been under her wing for a couple of years already. Little did she know that underneath all that 'recalcitrant behavior that brought shame to his father', Kakashi was in complete control of himself. It was almost neurotic for him to fine-tune his body like an instrument—or a weapon—and constantly stay on high alert for any sign of danger. Like a master of his own puppet, he pulled the strings on every single muscle and breath he owned.

He was in control of himself, and he made a promise that no urge would ever control him. If he wanted to smoke a stick, that was fine. But he wouldn't let the cravings get out of hand. Because it hurt too much to want something so badly that it destroyed you, and Kakashi Hatake was all too aware of what that was like. He'd been craving the impossible since he was a five-year-old kid who'd discovered his father's gutted body one stormy night. And though the cravings never really stop, what mattered was that he was in control of himself.

Even so, he finished his last puff and dropped the stick to snuff it out with a quick grind of his heel. The sun was hanging low, signaling that it was almost in time for dinner and Kakashi knew that his tardiness would only add more fuel to Mrs. Matsuda's already raging fire. He could already smell the smoke of danger—or maybe that was just the smoke of his cigarette clinging to him. Still, he couldn't afford to listen to her bitch for an extra hour when he had another appointment to get ready for tonight.

And it was after dinner that he readied himself for that appointment by sneaking out onto the back porch to enjoy the fresh air as well as the bottle of vodka he'd swiped after picking the lock of the alcohol cabinet. The vodka ran down his throat like fire and settled warm in his stomach. He sighed, leaning back to watch a plane fly overhead. The backyard was filled with fireflies at this time of night, the bugs eager to get some fresh, cool air after a balmy day under the sun.

"Someone made the local newspaper today."

Kakashi glanced up as Rin lowered herself down to take a seat beside him. "Front-page?"

"Last," she replied, presenting him with the page of his deed—minus the word 'heroic' though. At the bottom of the page was a photo of him holding the baby, the both of them painted in shades of black ink and icky grey but neither of them even looking at the camera. Kakashi was in the middle of thinking how much the baby's cheeks look a lot like a chipmunk's when Rin sighed beside him. "They say you killed a man, Kakashi."

He raised his eyes to her. Her face was marred by a disapproving frown while his was as smooth and blank as a canvas.

"Yeah... And?"

Rin's frown deepened. "And... you don't seem to care," she said, her gaze heavy with woe instead of bright with fear.

"I don't care that I killed a man that was going to do god-knows-what to that baby?" He couldn't help but get a little defensive. What did she want him to do? Cry and mourn the loss of a man who contributed nothing to society and was more of a fungal infection that needed to be taken care of? Sure, a life was a life and Kakashi had no intention to play god and decide who lives and who dies. But in a situation like that, there was no choice but to decide who lives and who dies—and hadn't he made the correct judgment in killing the guilty to save the innocent?

Every soldier out on the battlefield was doing that right now. Killing people to save people. It was a necessary evil for the greater good, but maybe Rin didn't understand that quite yet. She was still young and naïve in the sense that she was a proponent for idealism rather than realism. She still had yet to take off her rose-tinted glasses and see the world for what it really was and not for what she wanted it to be. And right now, she was squinting through those glasses to scrutinize him.

He didn't know what she saw, but he knew she didn't like it.

"You know what I mean," she sighed, looking at him the same way she'd looked upon that crippled, old pug in the alley. Broken, and waiting for death.

Just like his father.

"Don't look at me like that, Rin," Kakashi muttered darkly. He looked away from her, taking a sharp swig of vodka straight from the bottle.

She clicked her tongue but grabbed the drink to take a sip, wincing from the burn before tapping a finger on the photo from the newspaper. "You know, it almost looks like this is your baby," she said with a teasing smile. "You almost look adorable as a teen daddy."

"Very funny," Kakashi said with a roll of his eyes although he was grateful for the change in subject. "You know I'm never having children, right? They're fussy and needy and I dare even say abusive. This one pulled my mask down and saw my face while I was helpless to do anything about it. She practically tried to assault her own savior!"

"What?! Why, out of all the people in this world, it's a baby who gets to see your face first?!" Now Rin was pouting with him, but a smile was threatening to twitch awake again. "So not fair. I wiped your puke the first time you got blackout drunk and you still wouldn't let me see!"

"I'll show you one day."

But first, he hoped she'd forget about it.

"At this rate, I'll be dead by the time you do show me."

"I promise to show you," he said, taking absolute care not to pinky promise because, according to Rin, those were unbreakable even for him. He dug into his pocket for the pack of strawberry bubblegum and tossed it to her.

"You remembered the flavor I asked for?" She looked pleased.

"I do have perfect memory."

"Only when you care to remember things."

He raised a shoulder into a shrug like he could care less. "Go brush your teeth and make sure to clean your tongue like I taught you. I can smell the garlic chips you snuck in."

Rin sniffed and curled her lip in distaste. "And I can smell the nicotine on you."

"That's from Asuma."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

She rolled her eyes back at him but stood up, brushing the invisible dust off her skirt. "What about you? If Mrs. Matsuda catches you here—and with her stolen vodka..." she had her brow raised at the way Kakashi had grabbed the bottle to hug it to himself. Then her brow dipped into a frown and she followed his gaze to the shadows of the backyard. Her face scrunched up in disgust. "Wait, are you going to be making out with Sakae again?"

"Of course not," he snorted. "I'm way past first base already."

And second, and third, and now he was on the last stretch of his home run.

"You say you'll never have children but you sure like practicing making them," Rin said dryly.

Kakashi shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a healthy growing boy with healthy hobbies."

That earned him a sharp kick in the ribs from Rin but he hardly winced. "Remind me to not buy you the next installment of the Make-Out series when it comes out next year."

Ouch. She knew where to hit him where it really hurt.

Hearing her leave to get ready for bed, Kakashi sat straighter, knocking the bottle back for another swig of vodka. He had a better tolerance than last year, and at 5 feet and 5 inches, he already had a solid build shaping up even if his bones still ached and his voice still broke. But he'd already become a man at five years old, growing up in the hard blink of an eye. The painful whiplash of his childhood ending so abruptly had already faded away, but he still found his thoughts straying to his father even on a night like this.

Glimpsing the photo of himself and that baby, Kakashi couldn't help but replace the image with him in his father's arms instead. He blinked once, and he was back to staring at his deadpanned face in sharp contrast to the giggling, gurgling baby he'd been forced to carry for the photo-op.

Heaving a sigh, Kakashi scrubbed a hand down his face before reaching for the newspaper to tear off that page. He folded the sides, making sure the edges were crisp and aligned before throwing the makeshift plane out into the garden. It caught a warm breeze and rode on the tails of the wind, rising higher into the night sky. Kakashi watched on, his memory of today's events already miles away like the paper plane would soon be; soon to be forgotten completely by the end of the night. And as the paper plane raced over the neighborhood, Kakashi's thoughts were now racing towards the future, particularly tonight during which he'd get to weigh Sakae's generous breasts in his hands again.

They're definitely just as soft and heavy as I remember, Kakashi thought at the back of his mind an hour later. But he'd also just as soon forgotten those plush breasts once he found himself inside of Sakae, fucking her in the shadows of the backyard with the rest of the orphanage (save for Rin) none the wiser. He'd impressed her when he managed to roll the condom on without a problem, and he'd been impressed when she guided him down on the bench to ride him. Then they'd both been impressed when, in a sudden turn of events, Kakashi had ended up bending her over and fucking her from behind, her hands gripping the bench so hard that her knuckles bled white and his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

When it was all done and nothing left to be said, Kakashi honestly didn't feel any different from before. Even when Sakae had blushed and stuttered through her words to tell him to take her out on a date, he felt no inclination to return the romantic sentiment. Of course, he'd still proposed to take her to the movies next week, and she'd proposed to give him a handjob if they stayed for the credits. But beyond the primitive nature that drove Kakashi to accept the sex, there was no tug at his heart the way Sakae's had been.

He liked her as much as he liked her big breasts, and he liked the sex just as much as any healthy, hormonal boy would at his age. But his loss of virginity tonight had changed virtually nothing inside him. Sakae didn't seem to notice at all though when she'd peck a goodnight kiss on his cheek, and Kakashi had given her that same crease-eyed smile he'd given to the clerk and the man he'd killed.

After checking that Rin was tucked in bed and asleep, he made his way to the boy's bathroom. There probably would've been a celebration of sorts among his male peers had they known that Kakashi lost his virginity and got to cum inside a girl—four years older than him at that—all in one night. But at the tender age of fourteen and a genius in his own right, the only one he could celebrate with was the old, crippled pug across the school. He was the only one of his peers who'd had sex with a girl, killed a man, and found his father's own corpse, so of course there wasn't really anyone he could talk to except for the pug who was already too tired laying on Death's doors to care about the fucked-up adventures of a fucked-up boy.

And when Kakashi started to strip off his clothes to shower off the smell of sex, it was then that he realized the bit of blood from the store had stained the edges of his sleeve, the red nearly blending into the black fabric. He didn't care for the copper scent, but he did frown at the light smell of thrown-up milk and cherry blossoms. But of course the baby had drooled on his shirt. He was probably lucky enough that she hadn't puked milk all over him too.

"Never gonna have children," Kakashi groused to himself, and then he stepped into the shower to rinse away the last evidence of today's events.

The rest of the chapter will be published soon on AO3 and Fanfiction.Net! Thank you for reading!

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Once Upon a December

Chapter 1: A Song Someone Sings

A/N: I can’t believe that there are people that are actually interested in this... I hope it’s not a complete hot garbage. I had to change some aspects to fit all characters and their personalities but I hope you guys like it!

Prologue // chapter 2

---

“Are you fucking shitting me?”

The slap came only a few seconds later, stinging her left cheek and undoubtedly leaving a reddish mark. Shit shit shit.

Clarisse’s rule number one: no fucking swearing, especially at her.

It was one of the rules that mostly got Lin in trouble, causing the orphanage’s master to leave a series of bruises throughout her body during the ten years she lived in that hellhole. Minor swearings usually earned her slaps or pinches, and if she continued to say them afterwards, Lin would probably receive a full beating. It was absolutely miserable.

Until the year before, however, she wouldn’t be receiving those slaps alone. Until a year before, if Lin was swearing from the top of her lungs, Lysandra was definitely there with her, saying things just as filthy. Sometimes they would get caught, but sometimes not even Clarisse could find them when they sneaked off the orphanage to steal alcohol from the market and then went to a rooftop to drink their asses off. 

Lysandra. Remembering her name, her existence was the only thing stopping Lin from finally lashing out against the orphanage’s master. She needed help and information that only Clarisse or Arobynn would possess, and she was smart enough to know that Clarisse would always be the better alternative.

Even if being pleasant to the woman who made her life hell for ten years made her blood boil.

“Pardon me, Clarisse. I wasn’t swearing at you, it’s just that you caught me by surprise.” It was an understatement. What Clarisse had said completely shattered her plans and hopes. Her throat tightened and her vision started to unfocus. Shit shit shit. “Could you repeat it? Please.”

“I could not care less why you did so.” She spat out, and one of the kids that was coming down the stairs took one glance at the two women standing by the door, at Clarisse’s tone and wisely went back up. “You are finally eighteen, you are not the orphanage’s problem anymore. Just as Lysandra has not been our problem for almost a year now. I will repeat what I have already said: Lysandra was taken to Inish a year ago, and as we do not keep tabs on the adopted children, we do not know if she is still there.”

Lin had to hold her snort and sarcastic remark. Adopted. Clarisse said adopted as if Lysandra had found a beautiful family to sit by the fire during Yulemas and drink hot cocoa, but both women knew for a fact that what had happened to Lysandra had been more of a buying than an adoption. Her blood only boiled hotter, her hand itching to hit the woman across the face.

“And what I said about the railroads and regular roads is true. Adarlan has cut off relations with Fenharrow and Melisande as a political strategy or something like that, I honestly do not care. They will most likely be opened again in a few weeks or months, but currently you are incapable of traveling straight from Rifthold to Inish. Crossing the border on your own is suicide and you will get caught, girl, so do not do anything stupid.” As Clarisse pronounced the last words, she opened the door and the fresh summer air swept in, causing Lin’s golden braid to whip around a bit. “This is my last warning and piece of advice. Now leave, you are not a child here anymore, Lin Sirota.”

Lin clenched her jaw, grabbing her little sack of belongings and walking right out of the door. She raised her chin as she passed Clarisse, and kept it raised as she crossed the orphanage’s iron gates, and kept it raised as she did not look back at the place that had treated her like shit for the entirety of her teenage years. But even as she felt the relief of finally leaving that place, of not being chained to Clarisse and Arobynn anymore, she could not help but feel the weight of her new life crushing her.

She was homeless. Poor, having only the money that should supposedly be used to buy one ticket to Inish. She had no connections, no family and nowhere to go.

-------------------------------

She went to the docks that same day. She went to the taverns in which she knew the riders would be. She went to the railroad offices. All answers had been the same: we do not want to risk Adarlan’s wrath by crossing the border to Fenharrow or Melisande, even for the money you are offering or because of your pretty face. In all three places, she put an extra effort into masquerading her accent. It was widely known that immigrants were not welcomed in Adarlan, especially in its capital. In all three places she put on smiles and adjusted her braids, hoping to look just like an innocent girl who needed a ride. Nothing worked.

Lin was tempted to start crying when she sat down in a bench just outside the railroad office. She used to do that a lot once she arrived in the orphanage. Lin had been eight, and terrified of her own shadow. She had cried when she realized that she could not remember anything from her past, all memories just a thick black canvas in her mind. She only knew she was from Terrasen due to her extremely heavy accent, which also pointed to the fact that she must have grown up in the northern part of the kingdom. It wasn’t unusual for kids of Terrasen to end up in orphanages after the kingdom was seized during a winter night. The memory loss, however, had been a rarity. The only moments that Lin got close to remembering anything was during her nightmares, but once she woke up all the information that the bad dreams contained just turned into ash. It was like being trapped into an iron box inside your own mind. Sometimes Lin would curse the new Terrasen’s conqueror, as if the new queen herself had put her in that coffin. Lin did not even know her real name, had just been given a commoners name and that had been that.

She could feel the thick tears swelling in her eyes, but she refused to let them drop. She hadn’t cried in a long while, and it would not help her right then. She needed to think and be smart. She needed a new plan, a new route and a way to get to Lysandra and save her the same way her friend had saved Lin ten years ago when she was drowning in fear and despair.

That had been two weeks ago.

Lin was now seated at the rooftop of a shabby old house by the central square in Orynth, taking a swig of cheap vodka. She had decided that since she could not go straight from Adarlan to Melisande, she would need to take the long way. Terrasen’s relations with Adarlan were stable enough that the borders hadn’t been closed, so instead of buying a ticket to Inish, she bough one to Orynth. The city had a series of extensive railroads, a particular one that would take you through the Wastes on the west side of the continent and then straight into Melisande. That’s the train she would need to catch once she gathered the absurd amount of money she would need to buy the ticket and food for the next weeks unless she wanted to starve.

She had gotten two copper coins today and a bottle of Terrasenian vodka, all stolen. She had to admit, it was a new low point even for her.

She watched the people come and go, all of them wearing clothes as shabby as the house she was on top of. Orynth, the City of Learning, had once been booming with life, a beacon to all of those who wished a better life. Its people lived in peace and harmony, and even the slums were better than some Adarlanian cities. Once the kingdom was conquered, however, everything had changed. The new queen had raised taxes so much that even most of the city’s elite became poor, and most of the population had to give up everything they had to not suffer under the queen’s wrath. Access to libraries and theaters was limited only for the new nobility and officials, very few merchants also allowed. There were curfews and censorship, laws prohibiting people from even speaking the name of the old rulers. A city that was once beautiful was now a ghost town, much like the rest of the kingdom.

Not that Lin would be able to know the difference between now and then. She did not remember ever being here, but she had read in books. Part of her wanted to wander around, maybe try to awake old memories in case she did indeed come from Orynth, but she decided against it. It must be an unimaginable pain to remember a beautiful past just to realize it had been ripped away from you.

A silver flash caught her eye. She looked up at one of the cathedral towers at the other side of the central square, narrowing her eyes at one of the windows where she had seen the movement. It was a darker shade of silver, so it couldn’t have been lightning or even a trick of light. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt an incessant pulse. She stared at the window for a few more minutes before shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. She was going insane. Running low on food and sleep and then getting drunk, she was probably on the edge of actual insanity and now her mind was playing tricks at her. Sighing, Lin slowly eased from the rooftop and into the colorless streets. She would need a place to stay tonight, especially if the summer rains in Orynth were as strong as people said they were.

Lin wandered around a bit, her eyes always involuntarily going back to the cathedral. She mindlessly walked all the way to the old castle. It seemed like it was once beautiful, all built from marble and quartz, the towers so high that it seemed that you could touch the clouds from there. But once the new queen decided to build her new castle with the money she tore from the people, this castle had been left alone, vacant. It looked more like a mausoleum than anything.

It could have been a crypt if not for the whimpers she heard coming from one of the sealed doors. Against her best judgment, Lin walked closer and closer to the castle, the pulse in the back of her head as strong as it had been when she looked at the cathedral. She should go back, find some alley to spend the night. She was currently drunk, alone and unarmed. She was a fucking walking target and she should know better. Maybe the whimpers weren’t even true, just another sign of her madness just like the silver flash.

Sighing, she stopped in front of the wood panel covering one of the doors. From up close, it looked more like a window that had probably been shattered and then covered with wood.

Lin was about to go back, snorting at herself when the wood panel moved and another whimper sounded. Maybe she was just imagining things again.

Although you are probably a godsdamned idiot, you are not that crazy yet.

Setting the bottle down, she approached the panel until she could glance around it. It was thicker than she imagined, and when she bent down to try to look inside the castle, something moved, brushing her fingers. Lin yelped and fell right on her ass, staring wide eyed at the dirty golden tail waggling. Only the tail was on the outside, as if the animal had been entering the castle the moment the wood panel closed again. She looked around, realizing that there were new screws and a hammer on the floor. Someone had purposefully let the little animal stuck. Had personally closed the wood panel again. Her blood was boiling and she was half tempted to hunt that person down and pin them to a wall with those same screws.

Instead, she grabbed the hammer and carefully opened the wood panel. Lin hoped there weren’t any screws directly into the animal’s— most likely a dog— tail. After what seemed an eternity, the lower part of the panel gave away and the dog sprinted forward, going deeper into the castle.

“Fuck. Wait! Hey puppy, come here. Let me check your tail to see if you’re hurt.” She called after the pup, grabbing the vodka bottle from the floor and half entering the castle in all fours. “Hey, come here!”

She groaned and entered a little bit more.

You are broke, drunk, most likely crazy and in the other side of the continent from your destination. What’s a little breaking and entering into an abandoned castle?

Grunting, Lin fully crawled into the castle.

If it looked like a mausoleum from the outside, it was worse on the inside. It wasn’t only the appearance, but the feeling. Everyone knew what had happened ten years ago, and it seemed as if death and despair decided to make this their home. Lin took a step forward, her boots sounding way too loud in the empty entrance. Tables had been turned, vases had been broken and sofas had been ripped apart. Trash littered the floors, and the only source of light was whatever could enter through the holes in the wood panels covering the windows and doors. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and, despite the terrible condition of the castle, something eased in her chest.

Lin’s eyes snapped open when she heard the dog’s steps from another room in the palace. She started jogging after it, whistling in the hope that the dog would come in her direction. It led her up and down stairs, through corridors. The palace was a maze, and she navigated it as if she knew the way like she knew the palm of her hand.

She finally caught up with the dog when they entered a ballroom. The destruction in this room had been worse than in any other, and even as Lin bent down to pick up the puppy, her eyes could not leave the dance floor, the destroyed thrones, the blood stains in the walls and floor. No one had bothered to clean up, it seemed.

The pulse in the back of her mind became almost unbearable for a few seconds, until it was transformed into a lullaby that she knew in her heart she had heard before, even if she could not recall where. Her eyes became blurry, colors that were not there a minute ago appearing. It was like watching from inside a glass box splashed with oil paint. The colors were vivid, moving around in the rhythm of the lullaby that was so loud in her mind now that there could have been an orchestra by her side. The oil paint figures were dancing, she realized with awe. They were misty figures sweeping around a destroyed ballroom floor according to a song long forgotten by her.

It was like a real party, one that had happened so long ago that blurry memories were everything she could invoke when thinking of it, but the feeling of being home, the beating of her heart along with the music were reborn that moment.

She took a step forward, as if in a daze. As if she could go to the dance floor and sweep around with her eyes closed to the destruction and her mind providing the music. As if she could join those fake memories, go to a better place where she did not know pain of hunger or despair.

She might have done just that, if she hadn’t caught the movement of three figures from the left side of her eye. Immediately the colors disappeared, the lullaby becoming an incessant pulse once more. Her heart rate picked up, and she held the dog closer to her.

Lin turned to the three figures, all of them unbelievably tall, muscular and with their faces hidden by cloaks and shadows. She took a fighting stance, her eyes narrowing and cocking her head. She could swear one of them smiled.

“So what do we have here?” A male voice straight from Hellas’s realm spoke.

From behind her.

There are more.

Fucking stupid.

Shit shit shit.

I’m going to die.

It was all Lin could think as she hardened her grip on the cheap vodka bottle and swinged back, hitting the male behind her straight across the face. He and his companions-- the three she had first seen and other two flanking his side-- were shocked enough by her reaction that they froze. 

Although her stupidity was obviously arguable, she certainly did not have a death wish, so instead of fighting her way out, Lin took their seconds of hesitation and used to her advantage.

She ran as if Hellas was trying to fucking murder her.

It took only seconds for them to recompose themselves before they started running after her. Lin tightened her grip on the dog who was thankfully quiet and obedient. If she got to the wood panel she came from, she could crawl out and they would still be inside. They were too big to follow her through that hole, even though she had the feeling that they could easily knock the wood panel down if they wished.

Please, Lin pleaded to Mala for the first time since she could remember, give me protection. Please, please, please.

The last please sounded inside her mind when she felt a hand around her elbow. She was instantly against a man’s chest, and then before she could blink she felt the cold floor against her back. All the air whooshed out of her, her grip on the bottle and dog faltering. The little pup got up and started growling in the direction of the five men now watching Lin, the one that had stopped her still behind her. 

They were going to kill her, and then probably the dog.

At least she could take some comfort in knowing that it couldn’t get worse.

But then a deep male voice chuckled from the shadows behind her.

Tags:

@morganofthewildfire​ @alyx801​ @ladywitchling​ @westofmoon​ @rolltide7​

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt85

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Marinette waited patiently for her mother to finish yelling at her. Right or wrong there was absolutely no point in arguing back and she did her best to keep her expression neutral rather than bored. She had a feeling that this outburst wasn’t just about what she’d said either. Her parents were having to adjust to so much all at once. Finding out she’s Ladybug and the Guardian, her paralysis, and now the living situation issue. It would be a lot for anyone and she should have thought about that before being so flippant. It wasn’t her mother’s fault that Marinette had completely upended their reality.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” Marinette was brought back to the present by her Maman’s stern tone and hazarded to look at her. Her annoyance was written all over her face but Marinette could see the strain underneath was well. She’d caused that and weight of the guilt settled in her stomach.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been disrespectful.” That wasn’t at all what she was sorry about but it’s what Sabine wanted to hear so it was the least she could do.

“As well you should be. And who’s going to be taking care of you while you stay in Paris Damian?” Marinette saw Damian’s posture go ridged out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to tell if he was reacting to Sabine’s tone or just offended that she thought he needed to be looked after. Luckily Tim spoke up before he could set her mother off again.

“Bruce and Selina are flying in to oversee the house purchase and any repairs or renovations that are needed. I believe they were planning on discussing the living situation with you before any permanent decisions are made though.” That seemed to relax her mother but Damian looked livid.

“I don’t see why he has to bring that woman. This has nothing to do with her and she’ll just be in the way. The last thing I need is Father’s booty call trying to make decisions for me.” Marinette looked to Luka but he just shrugged at her. Whoever Selina was Damian hadn’t mentioned her to either of them. Given his obvious hatred for her she was a bit surprised the name hadn’t come up. Tim rolled his eyes.

“They’ve been together three years this time Damian, even you have to admit it’s starting to look like it may stick.” Damian just scowled at him.

“I admit nothing. Their on again, off again bullshit is just a waste of time and money for everyone involved. I refuse to be sucked into such nonsense.” Marinette wasn’t sure why he was so hostile about the situation, but his overall attitude towards romantic relationships was starting to make more sense.

“Whatever it is, it’s between them. You need to chill out Damian. Most likely Selina will stay for a week before she gets bored and then you’ll be free of her. She likes spending time with you almost as much as you do her.” Marinette saw her parents exchange a look and had to wonder if it was because of how disrespectful Damian was being towards his dad’s girlfriend or the fact that his dad was knowingly dating someone that disliked one of his kids. Either way she was grateful for her parent’s solid relationship both for the example and so she didn’t have to deal with anything similar.

“I suppose I’ll just have to find a way to stay away from them until she leaves then.” Damian’s grumbled response caused a spark to form in Luka’s eyes.

“You could always stay with me. My mom won’t mind and Jules is hardly ever home anyway.” Tim’s back was turned so he didn’t see Damian blush or the glare he sent to his boyfriend.

“That’s not a bad idea, at least for a few days while the dust settles. You know how B gets when he has to play mediator with you two and it’ll be worse without Alfred to fix things when he screws them up.” Damian actually looked amused before he hid it behind a mask of annoyance.

“Speaking of Alfred he wanted me to ask you if you’d give my father parenting advice. Though I personally think he’s a lost cause at this point.” Marinette watched her mother roll her eyes.

“I’m sure he didn’t say anything of the sort.” Damian looked insulted.

“I would not have said it if it weren’t true.”

“I’m sure Alfred probably did say it actually. He’s probably tired of Bruce ignoring his advice and is hoping hearing it from someone else will make a difference.” Tim let out an amused huff before continuing. “It’s a shame Alfred isn’t coming since he’s the only one with a successful track record of keeping Damian in line.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s the only one that listens to him. Or the only one that treats him like a person instead of a problem that needs to be fixed or hidden away somewhere they won’t make a scene.” Everyone looked at Chloe in surprise while she pretended to study her nails. Marinette doubted anyone else heard the underlying hurt and anger in her tone as subtle as it was, but she did. Damian was staring at her like she’d grown a second head and Marinette could only sigh. He and Chloe were a lot more alike than either would admit and this was a perfect example of why. They had both been used as tools and props by their parents, especially their mothers. While their fathers seemed to mean well neither seemed to have any real idea how to help them. Damian’s father tried to turn him into himself, while Chloe’s just gave her everything she asked for in the hopes it would calm her down.

“She’s right. All of you seem to push your ideas onto him and ignore anything he says to contradict them. Why wouldn’t he push back?” From anyone else that would have sounded like an accusation. From Luka it was simply a statement of fact and Tim could only frown at him in confusion. Suddenly Marinette decided that it would be mentally and emotionally draining if Damian’s siblings were constantly cycling in and out of Paris. They were going to have to reprogram them all one at a time and hope it stuck until the next time they came back.

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[writerwrites]

A Cruel Tide

Pairing: Steve Rogers (nomad!Steve) x Reader

Summary: A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word?

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Smut 18+, specifically unprotected sex, soft Dom Steve (if you squint), some mentions of a divorce and criminal father and hints of winter holiday cheer.

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 1 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby​ @captain-a-rogerss , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ , and @donutloverxo ... The Week 1 Prompt was based off of the moodboard below and “What Could Be as Lonely as Love” by Amber Run

“Please come back, Baby. It’s Christmas! Where are you going to go?” She heard her ex plead on the other end of the line as she stood soaking wet in the lobby of a cheap hotel. Even the weather had turned to shit on the first holiday since the divorce. “You didn’t even take your bag. What am I supposed to tell them when they come out of the kitchen with your favorite dessert?”

“The truth.” Her words were as cold as the sleet pelting the glass door by the empty concierge desk. A few taps on the phone screen and it was over, screen black. Silent. Merry Christmas, no more lies. Just as her hand went for the bell again a stranger cleared his throat. Hand snapping back to her side, her gaze caught the movement out of someone by the vending machines in her peripheral vision. It took a minute to place him, the grown out blonde hair seemed darker and his thick beard certainly changed the alter boy appearance that the world had made synonymous with his Captain America persona. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks: this was a wanted man. She could have pulled her phone back out, could’ve called for help or ignored him, but when her eyes met his, despite the long disheveled hair and thick beard, the softness to him was undeniable. The only thing she could muster was a simple, few hours too early, “Merry Christmas.”

“You just missed him, the manager. He left to get a good seat at midnight mass.” His blue eyes flitted to the window and back to you. It was like he was waiting for the woman to say something as he flipped a coin in his hand and tucked it back into one of his pockets. “You’ve got to be cold. No point in waiting around or paying for a room when I’ve got an extra bed.”

Even with his nod for the young woman to follow him she was reluctant, wondering why he had a second empty bed and why he wasn’t with someone for the holidays- even as a fugitive. She couldn’t remember all of their names, never really following all the ‘super terrorism’ headlines, but knew there was at least a half dozen of Stark’s former friends that had stood against him, were arrested, and went ‘missing’ from some prison facility she couldn’t recall the name of.  Despite her mind trying to dredge up whatever fleeting bit of news she’d heard, her feet were still following him through the dim hallway until they made it to his door. “What were you doing in the lobby if you knew he wasn’t there?”

“Vending machine. No room service tonight… I’ll get you some clothes and head back over. Do you want anything?” The grit in his voice was familiar, the sound of exhaustion, and her eyes moved over his frame as he spoke to the door handle and then the closet rather than looking at her. Where had he been while the world was looking for him? She mused as she watched him dig through a duffle bag and pulled out some extra clothes. When he turned to give them to her, the Avenger’s eyebrows knit together. The look of concern made her shoulders turn in self-consciously. “You’re shaking.”

In the subtle exchange of a flannel button up and worn in sweatpants her hands brushed over his, finding them rough with soft and slightly raised scars at his knuckles. “Sorry.” She looked for the bathroom door and stepped around him, pausing before reaching for the handle, talking to her heels. “I’m sorry. Uhmm, no thank you, I had dinner. I’m just cold, wet… Thank you for being so nice to me.” She couldn’t do it, couldn’t pull her gaze off the floor, and with nowhere to go she couldn’t run. An apologetic smile found her lips and he saw it but gave her some space, leaving the room to go back to the vending machines before she walked into the bathroom and changed.

Steve stood at the vending machines, texting on his phone while he dropped money into the machine. His thoughts were on the phone call his superior hearing had overheard and the subsequent stammer in the young woman’s heartbeat. He knew the feeling of love lost too well, but to see it written on her face, to see even her dark skin pallor, it brought back a sorrow he’d thought he’d buried when Peggy died. By the time his ordered assortment of chips, cookies, and honeybuns had thunked to the bottom Natasha and Sam had joined him in the lobby. “I’m not sure she’s going to talk to me.” Steve started, only to be interrupted by Natasha.

“I told you that I should have gone in. You’re not as clever as you think you are, Rogers.” Nat smirked, leaning against the wall after catching a bag of chips he tossed at her. “We’re running out of time. The longer he’s out there…”

“It’s not that. She was on the phone when she came in and it wasn’t about her father. Something doesn’t add up. Why would she even make this trip?”

“Eavesdropping on phone calls? Step up your game. She’s been tapped for a week, we don’t need your ears, we need a conversation. You got this, brother. Do what you’ve got to do to get her to talk.” Sam gave him a smirk and clapped Natasha on the back. He heard Steve, but time was of the essence and with no one at the prison talking, their targets only connection to the outside world, that they knew of, was sitting in this hotel room and they needed answers. “If you can’t make it happen then send Nat a text and we can pretend she’s back for the other bed early.”

“Whatever it takes,” Nat crushed the empty bag in her palm and chucked it over the concierge desk and into a waste bin as Steve nodded and walked past his comrades, but the blonde grabbed his arm. It would have been an understatement to say she hadn’t taken the agreement to have Steve lead the interrogation felt a little personal, but she knew he could do it, perhaps just not as quickly as her. “Try and have a little fun while you’re at it, Cap.”

The jacket dripped into the tub as it hung over the shower curtain rod. It was on sale, a thoughtless gift from her father three years ago, but the only coat she owned with lining since the separation led to a move to Miami. The knee length silver dress was new and now ruined, tag discarded in the trash and the heels next to it over the vent. As she looked in the mirror, water running for what seemed like an hour before it reached lukewarm, she twisted her dark locks so that they were out of her face and less likely to frizz. The waxy soap doing little to rid her of the full face of make up which hadn’t budged in the fray of arriving at the one hotel in the small town that she could afford. Despite freshening up, her body was still shaking. The flannel’s too long sleeve flapped past her fingertips and the sweats kept riding down to the widest point of her hips, making her look like a tired college kid.

With both of the beds made, she couldn’t be sure which one to take and settled for the one nearest the bathroom. As soon as she collapsed onto it she could smell the same scent as the shirt she now wore. The distinct sweet woody smell of patchouli, slightly cloaked in a hint of fabric softener. Her teeth chattered as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to move outside of hiding her face. She felt the weight of his body slumping onto the mattress at her side, the sound of plastic raining down on the sheets was what made her peak her head out. “Oh, wow! Was there a malfunction in the machine?”

His steely blue eyes looked at the young woman with worry but it seemed to melt away in a blink or two. “No, I couldn’t decide and I remembered you said you’d had dinner but not dessert, so Merry Christmas.” Both of their fingers moved toward the honeybun and he laughed a little, “A deal? One of us gets the honeybun, the other gets to pick the movie?”

Her chin quivered, as she tried to smile while she reflected on the options. “No deal. We split the honeybun and agree on a movie.”

Taking her lip in her teeth to stop the chatter and anxiety, her sad eyes looked up at him. “All right, you win.” He got up and passed her the remote, taking his time to go back to the closet where he turned up with a stack of clothes under his arm and socks in his hand. “Here, I forgot these. I’m just gonna hop in the shower, maybe be five minutes. No stealing my half or starting a movie without me.”

By the time he emerged, warm steam poured out of the bathroom with him. Steve thought she would have warmed up and calmed down, the sound of her heartbeat and shivering no longer ringing in his ears. Instead, he found all of the food in a little pyramid on the nightstand and a black and white movie waiting for them on the television. “You can have the whole honeybun if we can watch this…”

The glimmer in her eyes and swollen red bottom lip, she could tell he knew she’d been chewing on it the whole time. He slumped back onto the bed next to her, his damp hair dripping down into his beard. His brow furrowed thinking she’d leaned in when it was just his weight on the cheap mattress sliding her in. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t pulled away immediately and then she felt the shiver of his warm, minty breath on her skin. A wave of relief washed over her when his features warmed. “No deal, we split it and we’ll watch your movie.”

His words had been whispered and he didn’t pull his blue eyes from her face. She felt naked being looked at so seriously and her eyes moved down the slope of his nose to the beard. Reaching up, her small hands brushed the droplets of water out of it, surprised to find it softer than she could remember a beard being. Her thoughts immediately went to the last beard she touched, the last hotel room, the last person she wanted to think about and her thighs clenched together with want while her eyes pressed together to hold back the emotions she had been running from for a year and had literally sprinted from an hour ago. “It’s The Lemon Drop Kid… it’s the Silver Bells movie.”

Steve leaned his face into her palm and offered up a simple grunt of acknowledgement before he opened his eyes again. She watched him in shock, that little act of intimacy making her aware of how lonely she was in this world. He seemed to notice, covering her hand in his. “Your hands are still cold.” The tension between them, the unblinking gaze, the whispered words, both of their hearts were racing. Steve caved, giving her a choice. “Want me to stay? It would probably be easier to share snacks?”

Before she could stop herself she was nodding and he was leaning over her, taking the honeybun off the nightstand before collapsing back on the pillows. Steve watched her lick her lips but assumed it was a natural reaction to the honeybun passing her nose. With her hands pulled to her chest, she swallowed when his solid frame hung in front of her for that fleeting second and when it was gone her hands covered her mouth to stop herself from taking in a deep breath of the intoxicating smell of him. Her eyes stayed glued to the television as she blew shaky breaths onto her fingertips. The monologue in her mind about all the little anxieties of life that led her to the desperate place where she was okay sharing a hotel room with a fugitive stranger over Christmas was louder than the man opening the plastic, chewing, starting the movie, and then talking to her about her half of the honeybun. Her dark eyes blinked at him when his face was in front of her again, her thick lashes fluttering in confusion. “Hmm?”

Steve set the snack down and took her hands in his, rubbing them gently as his callouses brushed against her soft skin and his beard tickled her palms when he brought them to her full lips. He only let one hand go with a nod to the food before he continued on his little mission. She nibbled at the sticky treat and watched him, holding it out every bite or two for him to steal a bite for himself until it was gone. Nothing made sense to her anymore, she wasn’t a flirt and certainly never fell into the category of being overtly trusting. He picked up on the nerves, the expression of her being trapped in her thoughts, it reminded him of Bucky and a pang of guilt to his closest friend being in an icebox in Wakanda fleetingly hit him. Neither of them needed to be alone with their thoughts on a holiday, he decided, so he tried to get to work and strike up a conversation, “Why’d you pick this movie? Not trying to make me feel good by picking an oldie, are you?”

“I used to watch it with my dad… Everyone has a go to Christmas movie, I guess. I just didn’t think I’d see it on television. When it comes to holiday movies, I guess most channels play Miracle on 34th Street if they’re doing a classic… most do the newer films. Do you have a favorite?” She watched him settle in next to her once more, reaching for his hands as he pulled away and, to her surprise, he took it back in his and draped the other arm over her shoulders.

She grabbed a pack of cookies with her free hand and Steve’s blue eyes watched her more than the movie. The woman no longer shook or shrunk in on herself with a little bit of reassurance and comfort, again, reminding him of Bucky. “Why aren’t you with him this Christmas? Why aren’t you with anyone?”

The questions felt immediately too intrusive, despite the casual tone in his voice and her body tensed against his briefly before she decided they were totally normal questions. “I haven’t heard from him in two years. I don’t really have people… I gave up most of my friends over a relationship that ended a year ago.” Her gaze fell to her hand in his, the ring finger glaringly naked as the Avenger’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You have a lot of scars too.”

He was processing every word and micro-expression when his gaze followed hers to his hands, initially wondering if she’d heard something about his story. “Part of the job. I take a lick just fine though.”

She nodded, noting the present tense to his response before deciding she hadn’t meant just the scars on his hand. Though she didn’t really know the depth of it, there was some mutual sentiment she couldn’t put her thumb on with him. “Doesn’t make it right. There’s enough pain in the world to not need to carry the memory of it on our skin until the end of time.” Her own were hidden under the long sleeves of his flannel and she’d almost forgotten how she swam in it despite her curvy frame. “Have you seen this one before?”

“No, I missed out. I’m sure I’ll love it. I’ve always been a fan of film.” He stole a cookie, mulling over how to keep the conversation on her father, “I’m sorry you haven’t talked to your father. Have you thought about calling him tonight? Tis the season, right?”

“It’s easier said than done.” She sighed. “I don’t have a number to reach him and he doesn’t have mine. I… I don’t even know if he’s alive.” The words came out in such a broken way, at first rushed and full of closed off frustration- not at Steve but the situation. Then came the familiar burn of grief and the internal conflict of trying to determine how much information was too much information to share on the subject. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” He quickly interrupted her apology, but he felt the damage had been done. Steve pulled her to his chest in a slow but gentle hug and again she didn’t fight it. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his strong pulse beneath the hard muscles and her legs tangled in his as his sweats slipped lower on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I can’t get a hold of the person I’d like to spend the holiday with, too. Missed a lot of Christmases.” He swallowed down the knot in his throat, “Maybe we can just focus on being present and what we can change.”

Resting her chin on his chest, she looked up at him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. I’m a better listener than a talker.” It was true, after a year of keeping a massive secret about an ended marriage full of them, she became a master of doing as she was told.

Steve moved his hands up her back, inadvertently sighing when she pressed herself closer. They were both touch starved and though he thought he should keep his guard up, that this was work, the way she looked at him made his new hard exterior feel like a facade. Looking at her through his long lashes, he felt torn for the first time between the job and physical needs, his thoughts trying to just find some balance. His palm brushed against the skin peaking out at her lower back, “I don’t really have much to say about him. My best friend, he’s getting some help and I can’t be with him while he’s doing it. I feel helpless about it and then a bit torn up about missing more time with him. It’s a complicated relationship and complicated circumstances.”

Reaching up, she scratched her fingers through his beard, “But does he know that you’d be there supporting him if you could?” Steve nodded and she offered up a small smile and a few more words, “Then that’s all that really matters. You’ll be there for him once you can. I may not know anything about you outside of this room or by any names except ‘Steve’ or ‘Captain America’, but I can tell the news read you wrong.”

Her dark eyes searched his as she chewed on her bottom lip. Though she’d never thought of herself as a good judge of character and had certainly found good in horrible people, the man’s little gestures and something in those blue eyes told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. His hands moved up her back, under the flannel shirt massaging the soft expanse of her supple curves. Just as slowly, she untangled her legs from his, the sweatpants slipping down her thick thighs with the traction. She left them there, climbing onto his lap with little regard to the fact that she was now in her silky knickers on a soldier’s lap, fingertips still pawing at his beard. Steve’s hands moved over her waist, her body as pliable as his wasn’t and he watched her throat and savored the hiccup in her pulse every time his hands brushed over a new part of her skin. “We should probably…”

With a nervous laugh she agreed, but her hips were still rocking against him and his mouth was still inching closer to hers. “…or we could ju-”

Steve wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d crossed this line later when Nat and Sam asked him about the lack of intel. A part of him didn’t care. Her full lips were soft against his and the way her wanton whimpers poured into his mouth when his tongue drew across them made his cock twitch. Every little sound and taste of her made his body react. Steve’s hands reached up her full frame, opening the buttons of his shirt and discarding it until the curvy young woman was on his lap in nothing but her bra and panties. His bright blue eyes were alight as they gleaned over her frame. His sex life wasn’t anything to write home about, chaste in comparison to Sam, Nat, and even Bucky; it also happened to revolve around work- agents in peak shape. He ached for her, a natural beauty with soft edges. Steve palmed up her back and she followed his fingers, helping him undo the clasp before helping the silky number join his shirt somewhere over the edge of the bed. Her eyes were on his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed at the dry knot there, as she continued rolling her hips against his. The woman’s were cheeks pink with embarrassment at her level of exposure in the warm light of the room, the tips of her fingers slowly plucking at his own clothes before Steve leaned in and pulled her mouth back to his. “You’re beautiful.”

The sweet words pouring from his lips just before they latched onto her breasts made her laugh and then gasp for air. His tongue drew circles around her nippled before he nipped at them and his hands caressed the soft flesh. As he marked her with three wine stained blemishes on her chest, she finished removing his shirt, only laughing again at the contrast of his toned body to her swelling curves. Her laughter filled the room as he smiled against her skin and she responded by reaching into his pants and stroking him until he was completely hard in her hand. She couldn’t help herself, panties soaked from every touch. She pulled them to the side, rubbing her wet slit against his length. Like animals they both pawed and groaned over the new friction. “Do you want me?” Her nervous whispered words brushed against his ear and Steve lifted her off his lap just enough to pull shimmy off his pants and line himself up to her entrance. Pulling his mouth to hers she kissed him softly, slowly lowering herself onto him despite his firm grip on her waist a clear bruising plea for more. “Be gentle with me.”

Steve groaned as he filled her slowly and completely, her warm wet cunt milking him as she gasped into the curve of his neck. His lips ghosted across every inch of her skin as he stretched her out, hardly moving or encouraging her to move, simply appreciating how good it felt to be inside her. When her breathing steadied, Steve palmed over her ass and pulled on the silky fabric of her panties like they were reins. Her back arched and she started to grind on his cock, her clit taut against the fabric and his pelvis only causing her to moan loader as she gripped the soldier’s broad shoulders. With a firm clap and squeeze to the round soft skin of her cheeks she picked up her pace, eyes closing with satisfaction as his thick cock filled her and stroked her walls again and again. “Good girl.” He groaned, his hands moving down her thick thighs, the veins in his arms prominent as he helped lift and drop her down on his length. Steve’s blue hues settled on the view of her dripping down his length, so wet for him. How long had it been since he gave in to just wanting someone? His thoughts were fleeting, drawn back to the reality of the stranger riding him like she hadn’t been satisfied in her entire life, now her fingers pulling his mouth to her, but he nibbled on her lip and pushed her back, his mouth drawn back to her full breasts.

With here hands clutching the bedsheets behind her, back arched as she rode his slow deep thrusts into her, she couldn’t help but tighten around him, watching him hold her was one thing… a simple delight she’d not had in a year. It was listening to him grunt and growl when her pussy throbbed around him because of the little delights. As he sucked on her breasts and he squeezed her ass holding her down on his thick cock with every thrust, she felt him hit her sweet spot, sending little heat waves through her core until she was begging. “I’m so close. I need you, Steve. Please, please make me cum.”

Steve obliged, easily laying her back on the bed and tangling his legs in hers as he lowered his weight onto her small frame. His hips rutted against her and he grunted against her mouth between greedy kisses while his hands, which had been pinning her to the bed spread her legs further apart, giving him complete access to push her over the edge. She bit her finger on one hand as the other pulled at his thighs, muffling her pleas for release, “Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear that beautiful voice say my name.”

His thumb brushed over her clit in teasing flits, back and forth and her hand left her swollen lips, clutching his wrist as he continued to rub her sensitive bud through her release. “Steve! Please. I…” Her orgasm came hard, pouring her juices over his cock he kept warm and deep inside of her, savoring that tight pussy now clutching him like she’d never let go and all the subsequent little earthquakes from his ministrations on her clit. Her thighs shook and she laughed and purred and pleaded, but he gave it to her and when she was undone on the bed, his hard length still deep inside he laid down next to her, and rubbed her back. “Don’t stop.” She whispered after a tired soft kiss up his neck to the scruff of his beard at his jaw. Her leg slid over his hip and, again, he abided her request, his hand moving down that leg and back until he was sure she was ready. Her soft kisses confirmation as he began to rock into her once more.

This wasn’t just a fuck, it was slow and sensitive, pleading. He worshiped every inch of her as he felt her soak his cock two more times from the slow, deep grinding and nipple play. Each time he marked her skin with another hickey, groaning into her neck and shoulder and mouth about how sexy listening to her cum was, how good she felt around him, how perfect her soft curves were. The praise made her throb around him and he pulled her onto his chest, asking her where she wanted him to finish. Her pleading to stay inside her, the purrs of how much she loved being full of him set him off.  She rested her body gently against him and, cradled there, he claimed her in broken and hungry thrusts, his coarse hands holding her tightly to his frame as a final thrust to the hilt and he poured hot spurts of his seed into her. Her lips brushed across his salted skin before she let out a satisfied sigh. His blue eyes closed, a sleepy laugh passing his lips, “It doesn’t get better than this does it?”

Her tired eyes peaked open at him and she giggled as his hands flopped to their sides, only his finger tips tickling her tired thighs. “I’ve never had better.”

A peaked ‘hmm’ passed his lips as if to ask, is that so, but neither of them had energy to spare for conversation. Steve managed to tuck one arm under his head, his heavy eyes watching her slowly fall asleep, the unprofessionalism of his decision to sleep with her now sinking in as the charm of her melted into a warm, silent comfort. In bittersweet introspection he thought of how to rectify the interrogation that needed to happen. Knowing she wasn’t from this city and likely to go home under the circumstances, he settled on making plans to find her in a week. Nat and Sam wouldn’t be happy, but he’d find a way to keep them busy with other leads until he could talk to her again. Silver Bells echoed through the room and Steve fell asleep, just for a little while, basking in the comfort of being adored and held rather than objectified or idolized. For the first time, he dreamt of a dance with a partner that wasn’t Peggy.

The familiar quiet buzz of her phone woke her up with a cat-like stretch and sigh, momentarily forgetting where she was. Clumsily smacking her hand around in the direction of the sound she quickly hit the wall of muscle at her side. “Good Christmas morning. You’re up early.” He smiled with a quiet laugh on his lips. “I plugged your phone in when mine stopped charging. I think all your messages are coming in.”

Her eyes sheepishly looked up from the pillow at him, processing the fact that the night hadn’t been a dream. “Merry Christmas morning, Sir. You’ve been up long?”

With a shrug, he let her process the fact that he was in dark tactical gear. He broke her thought process with the soft whisper of her name, waking her up with delightful surprise and curiosity as his expression looked hopeful. “What are you doing New Years Eve?”

She bit her lip and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with no desire to look at her phone or confess how dull. “Home alone, I guess.”

“Don’t have to be if you don’t want to.” Steve set his phone next to hers and slid down next to her, “All you have to do is ask.”

Her heart raced and she felt like she was still dreaming, but he reached out and brushed her dark hair from her eyes and met his gaze as Steve waited for her answer. “Find me in Miami and kiss me at midnight?”

With a satisfied hum, he closed the space between them. Steve hovered over her, craning his neck down for a quick peck when she shyly pressed her lips together. “That explains the coat.” He laughed, unpinning her so she could get out of bed, watching her as she slipped out of bed and picked up clothes from the floor as she tiptoed to the bathroom. Though she hadn’t gotten the door closed, she already saw her things neatly folded on the edge of the sink, a little travel kit set atop it all. As if he could see her smile, he hollered toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I spoke to the manager when they came in this morning about needing some basics.”

The rest of the morning went by too quickly for either of their liking. He didn’t join her in the shower, distracted by a disagreement in a group text with Nat, Sam, and the other nomads about trying to interrogate her again in a week. Meanwhile, she was glad for the privacy to do her hair and clean the night from her brown skin, the only reminders left were the tender aches and the plum bruises. Just thinking about it made her wet again and, despite the work related distraction in his hands his superior hearing made him hear her moan more than once, making his twitching cock semi-hard in his tac suit. He sat with her while she waited for her ride, he took her number, and when he kissed her goodbye, his flannel shirt tucked into her purse, both of them found a slice of happiness in a lonely holiday.

The loft apartment felt vacuous compared to the cheap hotel room, but she managed to make the most of the long week. Decorating the place with a small tree draped in tinsel and silver bell ornaments, draping the window sills and counters in twinkling garland, and counting down the days to New Years Eve. Each day felt like a month, trying to reconnect with her father while juggling her meaningless job. Each night she pulled on his shirt and her hands slipped between her thighs until she fell asleep blissed out in the memory of their night together. There hadn’t been a single word from the nomadic Captain until a dozen roses waited for her on the doorstep of her apartment, a small card with silver bells detailing the corners that simply read: One more day, doll. - S.

Though Steve thought a week’s wait to see her again would have been painless compared to the lifetime he’d missed in ice or the subsequent years he’d spent mindlessly droning on until he joined the Avengers, but the task had been anything but speedy for an unexpected reason. Sharing the limited information he’d gathered, Nat and Sam took new perspectives on getting the answers they needed for their mission, all three of them tasked with finding people connected to the family. All the digging, shared intel, pointed to an intricately planned prison escape gone wrong. While Nat and Sam thought his worries for their target’s daughter were unfounded due to estrangement, Steve had every intention of keeping his word, simply too busy moving and looking for answers to engage in the formalities of modern flirtation. Every day was busy with work and every night, surrounded by pictures and papers, he’d wonder if she was drowning in thoughts of him too. The roses were his way of making it up to her, his confession, and every detail was carefully thought over.

As she sat in the twinkling holiday lights, the sun long since set. She clicked on the television to a channel showing the Ball Drop in New York, muting it to play her own playlist of holiday songs. To be fair, Steve hadn’t given her a time he’d show up. Cracking open the red wine, she danced alone in the shimmering silver dress that ghosted across her knees and hugged her hips, time slipping by mildly unnoticed with each sip and song. Just as she’d descended into the cushions the door to the apartment opened, startling her and causing her wine to spill across the cushions. It was the broad shoulders filling the doorway that made her hold in her scream. The familiar silhouette stood speechless and her mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish when they closed the space between the living room and front door. Her eyes moved to the television, expecting to see some sort of red tape Breaking News alert that pigs could now fly. Instead, her eyes fell on the time, bright white in the corner and reading seven minutes past midnight. She ran her tongue across her painted lips, closed her eyes, and laughed. Fate, she decided, had little regard for New Year promises.

Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes​

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch8)

ships/characters: Goldie, Fergus, Downy, Fethry, Gladstone, Scrooge/Goldie words (ch8): ~1600 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/

[1 & 2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Chapter 8 under the cut:

Sneaking over to Scrooge’s study wasn’t an issue. Goldie didn’t hear the sounds of Beakley or any kids moving around, didn’t see Duckworth’s ghost - finally she would just find Scrooge and talk to him for a bit and then leave.

Almost to the study door, Goldie frowned. Maybe she should hang around for a little longer than a bit after all the trouble she’d gone through to find him. But after spending so much time with the family already, just the idea of staying longer felt overwhelming. This was just supposed to be a quick visit, not some celebratory weekend vacation. There was no anniversary, no birthday, she just wanted to say hi.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, smiling brightly in preparation.

And...empty.

Goldie didn’t even bother to look around and check. This was just what she should’ve expected. She walked forward and sat in Scrooge’s desk chair, putting her feet up.

“Scroogey, Scroogey, Scroogey,” Goldie said in a sing-song tone. “Where could you be…”

She looked over the desk, checking out the headers of every paper. Eventually her eyes landed on a calendar, and Goldie excitedly sat up straight and grabbed it, using her pointer finger to find her way to the current date.

Nothing. It was blank. Looks like he had a free Saturday to do whatever he wanted. In this case: running around and avoiding his ex-everything. Or whatever he was calling her these days.

She sighed loudly and plopped her head down on the desk. Why was this so difficult? Was she having a bad day or was she just bad at this suddenly? She rotated her head so her cheek was shoved against the grain, beak tapping on the wood as she considered what to do next. There were so many rooms in this house, and knowing Scrooge...he probably didn’t waste any of them. He had reason to be in literally any room at any time. He could be looking for her by this point. Maybe she should listen to the hummingbird kid and just text him after all.

Goldie grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket and turned on the screen, taking a moment to enjoy her background. It was an old photo of Scrooge she’d taken when he was asleep and he looked particularly cute. He didn’t know about it and probably wouldn’t like the angle, but she could practically hear him snoring when she looked at it long enough.

She had a missed call and two texts she didn’t feel like responding to. What was the point of being on an adventure if she had responsibilities somewhere else?

Just as her thumb slid over to click on her messages, a phone started to ring.

Goldie jumped, not expecting the sound, and quickly scanned the room for the source. Scrooge had a shelf lined with different phones, all labeled, and one of them was ringing loudly.

After the fourth ring with no one coming to answer it, Goldie bit the inside of her cheek and exhaled. She stood up and walked over to the phones, staring at the one that wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Dismal Downs…?” Goldie said softly, trying to remember where she’d heard that name before. It sounded Scottish, for sure. Was it somewhere in Glasgow?

Despite all the traveling she’d done over the years, Goldie had never been to Glasgow. Going there without Scrooge’s invitation felt...wrong. Unlike breaking into his American home, which felt very very right.

Hesitantly, Goldie picked up the phone and held it up to her ear.

“...hello?”

“What?” the voice at the other end said in a thick, barely understandable accent. “Who’s this? The maid?”

“Not even close. Who’s this?”

“This is Fergus McDuck! Where’s Scrooge? His mother’s been waitin’ for him to call and the phone hasnae rang once!”

Goldie smiled. Now she remembered the name Dismal Downs. That’s where Scrooge’s magic immortal castle was keeping his family alive.

“Scrooge isn’t here, but I’ll be sure to let him know his Dear Ol’ Daddy’s upset,” she said smugly, imitating his accent.

The voice on the other end paused. “You’ve got quite the mouth on ya. Who is this?”

She considered, briefly, hanging up and not saying anything. But this was kind of fun. “The name’s Goldie.”

“Ach? Goldie? From Goldieburg?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“I’m sorry - Goldieburg?”

“Aye, Scrooge mentioned a Goldie back when he came to fix up the castle. Is that you?”

She felt an odd flutter thinking that he talked to his parents about her. What was that about? Just complaining? Especially back then...their relationship was still very new. He couldn’t have had many good things to say.

“Probably. I don’t think he knows any other Goldie.”

“Downy!”

“Yes, Fergus?” Goldie could hear a woman’s voice in the distance, similarly accented.

“Scrooge’s wee burd is on the phone!”

“Our Scroogey’s? Does she sound nice?”

“No, not in the least. Probably a good match for our son, then.”

“Oh, Fergus! Don’t be such a grump!”

Goldie wasn’t sure how to react to what she was hearing. They had the wrong idea, but also kind of not the wrong idea. It’s not like she needed to explain the whole situation to them. It’d probably confuse the old folks, or give them a very bad impression of their son.

“Let me talk to her!”

The mother of her long-time rival-slash-love-interest wanted to talk to her?

She hung up, grimacing. That started out funny, but quickly dissolved into too much. They were probably going to make a thousand assumptions that Scrooge would grill her about later. On the plus side, she was definitely going to ask about what the hell Goldieburg meant.

The phone started to ring again and Goldie bolted out of the room. The kids were still nowhere to be seen, it sounded like Beakley was back in the kitchen, and she didn’t feel the presence of any magic or ghosts.

It was time to continue checking the rooms one-by-one, then.

Goldie passed through the foyer, making her way to the other side of the mansion, when the front doorknob started to turn. She eyed the door suspiciously and waited to see who was about to enter. The front hallway wasn’t an ideal spot to greet Scrooge, but she’d take whatever she could get at this point.

The door swung open - it wasn’t locked? - and Goldie raised an eyebrow as she took in the image of the two ducks in front of her.

“I told you it’d be unlocked, Buddy!”

“Boy, Gladstone, when you’re right, you’re right!”

They looked up and made eye contact with Goldie. She stared back, unblinking, trying to figure out who in the world she’d just witnessed breaking into Scrooge’s mansion without breaking a sweat - she was supposed to be the only one who could do that.

The duck in the back smiled and walked forward a few steps, clearly about to say something to Goldie when his eye caught something on the ground. “Hey! Twenty dollars!” He leaned down and grabbed it.

Goldie gaped. How the hell had she not noticed that money? And also… “Wait a second, are you...Gladstone?”

He looked up at her, looked her up and down, and then tapped his beak. “Last time I checked! And you... look vaguely familiar!”

The other duck came up behind him and looked over Goldie as well. “Gladstone...don’t you know who this is?”

“Not at all!” Gladstone said more enthusiastically than necessary.

“This is...Mrs. Beakley!”

“Ooohh -”

“No I am not. ” Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Goldie. O’Gilt? And you must be Fethry, then. You two have certainly grown. What are you doing here?”

“Goldie! That’s it!” Gladstone plopped a fist into his open hand for emphasis. “I remember you kidnapping me once!”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a kidnapping. Just...kid-borrowing.”

“Oh, oh! I remember that, too!” Fethry clapped his hands together. “I remember crying very very much.”

“Yes, there was lots of annoying crying,” Goldie said. “But I needed some good luck that day.”

Gladstone shrugged again. “Well, no one else would be able to help with that! And I won so many free pizzas.”

“Donald was so mad he almost tore up my hat!” Fethry laughed for a few seconds, before suddenly stopping and staring out into nothing.

The other two stared at him, expecting him to say something else, but he stayed quiet.

“Right. So, speaking of Donald, where is he?” Gladstone pointed at Goldie. “We’re supposed to be meeting him for lunch!”

“Oh, really?” Goldie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Last time I saw him, he was gardening by the pool. Didn’t look like he had late lunch plans.” She looked up at a nearby clock. “Very late lunch plans.”

“I got lost!” Fethry said with a smile.

“And I didn’t really want to be here,” Gladstone added. “But we have a Della-related surprise to talk about, so!”

She sighed and pointed behind her towards the back of the house. “He’s that way. Just go.”

Gladstone frowned. “That’s a lot of walking.”

“I’ve got you, Gladdy!” Fethry reached over and picked up his cousin, slinging him over his shoulder. “To Donald!”

“To Donald!” Gladstone repeated, happily lounging.

Goldie watched them walk away and sighed. Alright. She was giving up. There was no one left to ask except one person who she knew was just a few steps away. So what was the point in putting it off any longer?

She slowly made her way to the kitchen.

[harry-sussex]

I hope it's not yet too late to add my thoughts to the Harry memoir thing! First of all, I sincerely hope that Harry is smart enough to think twice, thrice, or even a thousand times about what he'll put out in his memoir. Unlike Finding Freedom which they were able to deny accountability, although seemingly unbelievable to some given their "relationship" with Omid, all statements, claims, and accusations in the memoir are his to bear and all consequences are his to suffer. He can't pass it off to someone else. The Queen is 95. Sooner but preferably later, Charles will take over and then William. I'm not saying he's not entitled to his own feelings and I acknowledge that the BRF will always be his blood family but family members have been exiled and cut off completely for lesser reasons. I think him going back to the UK and being allowed to stay in Frogmore, for instance, are all thanks to the Queen. I can't imagine what or how his trips to the UK will be like if he has been cut off completely by his family and no longer has the royal machinery to back him up (i.e., being able to stay in Frogmore, the security, chauffeurs, being able to claim they're still on speaking terms). Try as he might to say that he hated his old life, I think it would hurt him if he only gets to go back to the only home he's ever known for funerals. I think it would also hurt as hell if he and his family will be denied invitations to the Jubilee or future coronations, for instance - events that he and his family should have been at the forefront had this been handled properly. Not to mention the negative impact this will have on his "brand". I don't think the remaining royals would do a sit down interview directly addressing Harry but I also don't think we can put it past them to hit back in different ways especially when provoked.

Second, the "scorned royal" narrative could only go so far especially with the Cambridge children growing up. This is also one of my beefs with how this played out. Harry acknowledged that his niece and nephews would soon outshine him and he has a little window to do something worthwhile... and yet he chose to immerse himself fully in the "drama" as opposed to highlighting the causes close to his heart. This "drama" is supposedly aimed to clear the air and misconception surrounding them but it only resulted in them being bashed even more and made fun of.

I saw a post saying he's turning into the male version of Tessy Antony (and I hate that I can see why) and since January 2020, I think I've been the human version of that angry woman saying "I was rooting for you. We were all rooting for you" at Harry LOL. He used to be such a great guy (who I was really proud to say I admired) and I think underneath all these pent-up anger, he still is. I sincerely hope he doesn't end up being a middle aged man who's fallen from grace and would have to resort to embarrassing things to earn money and court publicity. Diana's second baby who grew up to have a big heart and an even bigger personality despite the Diana tragedy deserves so much more than that.

It's never too late to share your perspective around here! I have a stupid amount of messages from ages ago from people sharing their perspectives - I'll get to them, promise! It just might take me a while lol. But I've been trying to get through all of the memoir-related asks because a lot of people have a lot to say, myself included.

I think a lot of favor he still has with the family lies with the Queen, sure. However, I really don't see Charles and William cutting him out of the institution for good, no matter what he does. He'll go to the coronation, maybe even William's investiture as Prince of Wales. He'll go to HM's funeral (where I have no doubt he'll be granted special permission to wear a uniform, because there's no way they'll do the suit thing from Philip's funeral at the monarch's funeral), his father's funeral when the time comes (same with the uniform), and William's coronation, and maybe George's investiture too. Hell, he might even pull a Princess Madeleine and come by for events like Trooping the Colour (like she does for National Day/Victoriadagen sometimes) every once in a while. He'll stay at Frogmore and get invited to tea and be entitled to the same royal machinery. Side note - I really don't think we'll ever see Meghan (and, likely, the kids) on British soil ever again. Maybe, maybe the coronation(s). Not entirely sure about the funerals, I'm not going to lie. Just my opinion - I might be completely wrong.

I just don't see them waking up one morning and stooping to Harry's current level. They're an institution too, and realistically, he's no threat to it. Sure, they theoretically may never speak again, they may cut each other off for good personally, but the institution is the institution and I just don't see them doing anything.

I agree with the second point, though I hadn't considered it. His time in the peak of the spotlight to do as much good as possible is certainly limited, as he fades further and further away from the institution, and as George, Charlotte, and Louis grow up. He has a different grasp on the public than Charles' siblings, for example, because he's Diana's baby, and so he will remain relevant in some capacity for the rest of his life even as the kids start turning into full-grown royals. Either way, it will diminish to an extent, and I wish he'd focus that time on doing the good he's always said he wanted to do, to maximize his impact while he has the greatest reach. The drama only makes money for the media. His charities, instead, could benefit greatly from the resources (time, energy, effort, manpower) that he is wasting on this damn memoir. In the process, he makes money for charities and loses money for the media. A win-win, right? Why does nobody see that?

That was @claireofluxembourg 's anon and it's funny to an extent, but it's also really quite sad. I don't think he's there yet but it could very easily go in that direction and if that happens, idk what I'll do with myself because you know I'll still be here going on about "he can change!" That bitterness is unflattering on anyone.

Finally, I agree with all of your last point. He's a wonderful, beautiful man with so much spark and charm and he's so capable of everything he could ever want to do and more. I do not want to see him fall any further from grace than he already has. He's Diana's baby, sure, but he's a beautiful person in his own right with a big heart and an enormous desire and potential to be everything and more and I just hate that this is what it's come to. I hope it levels out because he deserves so much better, he is so much better, and I refuse to believe that version of him is gone.

[kiame-sama]

The Mandalorian, The Child... The Stowaway?

Hello lovies~! I am here with stories for you~! I might continue this one or make a series of it. I dunno.

Anyway...

Warnings: injury, semi-sad moment, the kid is a cute brat, Mando ain't got time for this, Jawas.

~~~~~~

"I can't fix something that isn't broken."

"I saw it break, there is no possible way nothing's wrong with it."

"Then I guess you got lucky."

The mechanic waved away the confused and slightly irate Mandalorian who only glanced back at the Starcrest in disbelief. He knew for a fact some internal systems had been broken in an attempt to keep him from leaving with the child. He examined them himself beforehand, they were all damn near fried completely.

He didn't fix them, that's for damn sure. So who the hell did? The kid? No, Mando was fairly sure that the kid couldn't do something like that even with the odd abilities.

Was he that exhausted from the fight that he imagined they were damaged? It had happened before, but not like this. He was fairly clear-headed when he examined the ship and took note of the fried components. There was no reasonable explanation to it.

He let out a long sigh of frustration, pleased the ship was fine, unsettled that it had mysteriously fixed itself. As he made his way back up the hatch he heard an interesting noise. It was the kid. Laughing.

Now that was never a good sign.

Breaking into a sprint he made his way up to the cockpit, hastily opening the doors to see just what the kid had gotten into. What he found was... Nothing. The kid hadn't gotten into anything.

Then why was he laughing?

Now suspicious of the odd behavior of the child and the sudden repairing of the ship, Mando decided to scan for lifeforms on the ship. He didn't have to look long before a blip caught his attention. It was right behind him.

He fired his blaster in the direction of the threat and heard a feminine hiss, the child suddenly breaking out in frantic wails. He only glanced away a moment and when he looked back there was a figure laying on her side on the floor of the ship. They held their bleeding shoulder and was doubled over in pain. The robe they wore looked hauntingly similar to that of the Jawa, but this being was far too tall to be a Jawa.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm-"

"Why are you on this ship?"

"I-"

"Tell me!"

"I will if you stop cutting me off everytime I try to speak!"

There was a moment of silence, blaster still pointed at the stranger ready to shoot. The voice was feminine, but that didn't mean a damn thing to Mando. Many races could sound all sorts of ways and besides, gender meant nothing when it came to a damn threat on the ship. It was then Mando's hand holding the blaster began to shake, slowly moving against his will away from the strange woman. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see it was the kid doing it.

But why?

"I've been here since you took the kid in the first place. Why the hell do you think he's never cried or thrown a fit?"

"How did you get on?"

"You were distracted and I saw a way off planet."

"Why this ship?"

"Did you happen to see any others anywhere on that planet? No? The nearest click? Nothing ever leaves the planet and I don't know how to fly. This was my best bet."

Given the fact that the kid- who was now passed out- went through so much trouble to get the blaster away from the being, Mando decided to do things differently. He grabbed a few things to patch up the wound he had given them before going on one knee before them.

The being looked over at mando, a black shroud covering their face making it near impossible to make out features, but it certainly was no Jawa. There was a moment of hesitation before the being accepted the items, drawing back to treat their own wounds. They let out a low hiss as they began silently treating their wound, incorrectly.

He sighed and shuffled closer, taking the items from the tense being and treating the wound himself, seeing as he actually knew what he was doing.

"Don't get hurt all that often, do you?"

"... No."

Now Mando started to feel how others must feel when talking to him. He was the one with short responses and no small talk, but he had to know more about his sudden and mysterious new associate.

"Fine. You came on here, then what?"

"Then nothing. I didn't know what I was doing the moment we got off planet. I had never left it before. So I did what I grew up doing, fixing, hiding, stealing."

"You stole from the ship?"

"No. Any time you would stop at a planet I would gather things I or the ship needed."

Another silence passed over the two as Mando silently took the being's words into mind, now realizing why the ship was always in such good condition and why things seemed to fix themselves. And their words certainly were true, nothing had gone missing from the ship, the child hadn't made a fuss the entire time, and it seemed the stranger was doing far more good than harm.

But that begged another question.

"What have you seen?"

"Nothing."

"I mean how much of me have you-"

"Again, nothing. I know the stories of Mandalorians and I know they never show their faces. I made sure to avoid you any time it seemed like you were going to remove your helmet, even if you didn't."

"Why? Any other would have taken the chance."

"I'm not here to ruin your life, insult your code, take your money, or hurt the kid. I just wanted to get off that planet for once in my life."

A noise almost like a chuckle came from Mando, but it could have also been a cough. As he finished wrapping the wound- which honestly wasn't that deep- he stood up, offering his hand to the stranger. After a moment of deliberation, the stranger allowed themselves to be pulled up by the firm grip.

"So what will you do now? Will you throw me off the ship, or dump me at the nearest inhabitable rock?"

"..."

"Well?"

"You can stay."

"Truly?"

"Yes. No more sneaking around."

"Deal."

"What cut do you-?"

"None. I can steal what I need from other planets. I just want to be allowed to stay on the ship... I've grown attached."

"To the ship?"

The being stood silently, as if trying to find an answer or process what to them seemed like an obvious answer to the pointless question.

"Yes. And to the kid... And to you."

"I don't need attachments."

"I know. That's why I've tried to stay hidden and out of your way. But, unfortunately, Jawas get attached to their ship and everything in it."

"You're Jawa?"

Another moment passed before the hooded stranger lifted their hands to the hood, pulling it back off of their head, the shroud going with it. Beneath was a surprisingly beautiful human face. Human (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, (h/c) hair. Certainly not a Jawa.

"I may as well tell you my little sob story and get it out of the way. I don't exactly want to surprise you and get shot again."

"There's no need for that-"

"Yes, there is. I get Mandalorians don't share, and I respect that, but it is important to me you at least know what's going on with me. A show of good faith. Maybe it will help you down the road, I don't know."

"Fine. Let's hear it."

It was then the kid came around, having spent such little energy on moving Mando that he was able to bounce back quickly. He blinked in a bleary eyed way around the cabin before extending both arms to the being with a happy giggle. The stranger wasted no time in picking up the child, allowing him to pull on their ears, hair, and nose. It was clear the child was very familiar with the stranger, cooing and giggling as he played with the hem of the stranger's robe.

"My name is (y/n). I'm obviously not a Jawa, but I was raised by them. I was traded to them by some disgusting monster of a human who wanted drugs in exchange for his own infant. Instead of killing me or trading me again, they raised me instead as a Jawa. I grew up as one, learning the full language and the basic art of stealing and trading it back to the person we stole it from, usually for something of greater value.

"But then things began to happen around me. Broken machines or droids came back to life, even when they were fried. I could understand their beeps and silent communication through electricity waves. Somehow people heard about me and came looking for me, to kidnap or to kill, I don't know. Many of my friends died protecting me. I had to leave to stop the killing.

"... Jawa grieve, you know. We mourn all of ours that die. It may be a surprise, but most Jawa communicate with each other around the galaxy. Better to have good connections for such small and fragile creatures when an entire galaxy is against you."

The stranger let out a soft laugh with pain in their eyes, holding the child close. The child gently cooed and lowered his ears as he took in his sad friend, becoming sad as well.

Mando said nothing, allowing the stranger to ramble as they wished, sharing what they wanted to share. It was a surprise to hear of any Jawa taking in a child as their own, but Jawa were strange after all. Mando knew it was a benefit to keep (y/n) around seeing how many of the damn things he runs into. Someone who was able to understand the Inner Jawa language instead of just the Trader Jawa was a useful person.

"Do you know why technology is different around you?"

"My kin said I was something called a Technopath, so basically someone who can communicate with, power, and control machines. Droids included. It can be useless at times and life saving at others."

Mando nodded, wondering faintly if you knew how to control and talk to the ship, but he would find out later. This odd human was a member of his crew and he didn't even know it. And thankfully they seemed to do more than their fair share of work. The kid was a handful, the ship was always getting damaged, and no doubt they've already taken stock.

This controlling droids business was something he curled his lip at, due to his hatred for them, but it was also a useful trait... If it was true.

What he knew for sure was this human had somehow hid directly under his beskar the entire time he had been dealing with the kid. They could have killed him if they wanted to and the fact that the kid clung to (y/n) just like how he clung to Mando proved a lasting level of affection.

So long as (y/n) pulled their weight, Mando would have no problems with them. Hell, they didn't even want payment, which made his life easier. He didn't have to adjust anything or change how he lived, but now he could see and interact with his unknown crew member.

"Where do you sleep?"

"The floor."

"Get a second bed installed."

"... Yes, sir."

[bucky-iss-bae]

Reminiscences - Peter Hale x OFC (Part 3)

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter Hale x OFC (Calla)

Word Count: 1900 

Warnings: None - Slow Start I guess

Summary: Calla has grown up as Derek’s best friend, she’s known the Hales her whole life,she’s known their secrets and everything in Beacon Hills. Things in Beacon Hills are quiet, the pack are a family, and Calla realises that Peter knows more of her secrets than she realises.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, sorry for the mistakes and cheesiness, any feedback is welcome x

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscences Part 2 

Part 3 

“I am so happy you asked about coming out, we literally have not been on a night out in forever. And considering there’s only 2 of us single ones left out of everyone we need to be getting out there and being each other’s wing women” My closest friend Camilla said to me. Calla and Camilla, two girls who went through school then trained to be teachers together.

I laughed, “Trust me, everyone else is getting engaged, getting married, having kids. I made a tinder account, and I’m never going on it again” I said to her.

“Ohhh why not?” She asked me waiting for the tea, although I hate to disappoint.

“So, a couple of girls swiped right on a guy that I think I hate but probably don’t and I’m still avoiding him. Its someone I know by the way, someone I know very well”

“It was a match wasn’t it?” She said with a sly grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes. But forget that, and him because tomorrow I will be your wing woman, and you’ll be mine. We’ll find hot guys to potentially hook up with or maybe even date, and all will be well, or we could just have some girly fun, dance with one another. So many options” I said to her.

“Touché to that” She agreed, we then went into a few stores. We went to Sephora, getting some makeup, Victoria secret, because it’s my favourite shop. And a few other places to get new shoes and clothes.

We had spent hours trying on different outfits, and shopping, and when we finally got everything we needed we retreated to the car. Rather than dropping her off home, we went for food instead so we could sit and talk rather than walking around and having our catch up.

“How’s work going?” She asked me.

I smiled, “I’m enjoying it. I’m getting alright money, good hours, and doing what I enjoy, I don’t need to be a full time teacher. Not yet at least. Although I am qualified. I might apply for a teaching job next year”

She nodded, “You’re lucky you chose younger kids. I hate teaching older students. And let me tell you Beacon Hills High, its accident prone”

I chuckled, “I know. The kids theyre not too bad though”

She nodded, “Listen, I look out for the boys you’re friends with. I don’t even know how you became friends with them, so please. Explain”

“Through Derek. I’m not sure if you know Scott and Stiles? Stiles being the sheriffs son?” I asked.

She nodded, “Heard of them, they graduated last year right?”

I nodded, “Yeah, Derek is dating Stiles, and well Scott is basically friends with Liam, Mason, and yeah those boys”

“They’re good kids. Just distracted sometimes. Liam’s anger has been improved since he’s been friends with Scott though”  

I nodded, “Yeah, he’s a good kid, which now sounds weird considering you’re his teacher and he’s... a friend? Like a brother maybe”

She started to laugh, “At one point I was convinced you and Derek were going to end up together” She said.

I snorted at that, “That’s likely. I mean he’s like a brother to me. But sometimes I just feel like he thinks he has to be my friend, like I’m some extra baggage, just because he’s scared that I might fall to pieces one day. Because I have no family, and he thinks he should put it upon himself to have this family picture that he’s got. Because he’s happy now, and I don’t want to ruin that and as happy as I am for him, and as happy as I am at the moment, I’m just not content with life. I feel like I’m at that age where, there’s more I could be doing, that I want to be doing”

“You know you’ve always got us babe. I mean we survived high school, college, and now work. You were there for me when my parents got a divorce, when my mom decided to go off the rails, and so much more, and I was there for you when your parents passed. So no matter what we’ve got each other. And we’re still young, sure we’re closer to 30 than we are to 20, but who cares. We have so much going for us in life, we’re younger, hot and do not need to be content just yet.”

I grinned at this girl, “Fucking hell we don’t meet up enough, you’re literally inspiring me, reminding me of the family I do have rather than the opposite”

She snorted, “You’re telling me. I’m going out on a school night, to get drunk in a bar, just so my best friend and I can have a night that we’ll forget by the following morning”

“Thank you by the way, for everything. I mean I know that we don’t hang out nearly enough, and we really probably should because facetime calls aren’t always enough”

“I know, and we will, at least we stay in touch, some people don’t”

I had to agree with her there, I mean both of us haven’t even left beacon hills yet. But we’ll get the chance one day. Soon.

Whilst we were eating, my phone decided on going off causing me to groan. Derek’s name popped up, and considering I hadn’t bothered messaging him since yesterday, I was shocked he even called.

“What?” She asked me.

I shook my head and tapped the red button.

“You realize he’ll know that you purposely hung up right?”

I nodded, “Good he needs to know”

“Ok, remind me not to get on the wrong side of you”

I grinned at her, but we both carried on eating, this time with lighter conversation.

By the time school had finished the following day, my phone had been bombarded with both texts and calls off of Derek, a few even off Peter. I ignored them because I had to get ready.

But obviously they didn’t know that, and instead I carried on getting calls.

By the time I was ready, Camilla was in my apartment doing her own hair, I had to do her makeup,  and by the time it hit half 9 we were ready to meet the others, another one of our friends was picking us up, especially since she nor her sister drink, but they both know how to have a good time.

“Cannot tell you how excited I am for tonight” Camilla squealed as we got in the car. I laughed at her behaviour as I have been this last half hour as she sang around my apartment. You would think we’re officially legal and allowed in a club for the first time rather than professional teachers.

“Same. Also just so you two know, I am getting so wasted I won’t even remember my own name. So sober friends, please support me” I told them.

“You hear this grown ass woman? She’s supposed to be a teacher” Cait said to her sister, I just laughed at them but was so excited because I am finally going to let loose and have fun, and not worry about anyone or anything else. I have no work tomorrow, I have no plans aside from recovering from this hangover.

As soon as we got to the club we met up with everyone else, it was nice because there was a big group of us. Although I didn’t completely know everyone, a few others invited others, and it just branched out. I squealed, I hugged a lot of people and I did not hesitate when it came to taking shots.

“Come on lets go dance” Camilla said to me grabbing my hand and dragging me to the dance floor. I laughed and went along with her, one thing I pride myself on is being able to dance, I have got the hips to move to any beat, and I do. I danced with all the girls, and with a few guys, I drank and drank and I’ll probably be dead tomorrow but I don’t care.

“That guy keeps staring at you. I think he wants some of this” Camilla slurred whilst grabbing my behind.

I giggled and slapped her hand away turning to see where she was looking, as soon as I did I rolled my eyes, “He’s a creep. Lets go find some hot guys” I told her grabbing her hand feeling slightly sober than I was a few minutes ago, but we all knew that wasn’t the case.

“I already have” She grinned whilst pulling me towards someone, I quickly glanced back hoping Peter wasn’t there anymore. Despite being drunk, I had some senses, and as much as I want to be a lightweight, it takes too much to get me drunk, alcohol poisoning ttoo much.

But much to my displeasure he was making his way towards us.

I groaned and turned back around picking up the pace, basically dragging Cam to where a few other of our friends were,

“You alright girl?” Cait asked me.

I grimaced, “I drank too much but I’m not drunk enough. This one on the other hand” I muttered.

Cait started to laugh looking at Camilla she handled her alcohol the same way a teenager does, she still has work in the morning.  

“Calla” I heard a voice from behind me.

Cait looked at himbwith slihglty narrowed eyes, “Whose he?” She asked me whilst staring him down.

I shook my head, “No one. If you ignore him, he’ll go away, now come on let’s go get me some more drinks”  I said to her walking past her, a hand grabbing my arm stopped me.  

“Calla. You’ve had enough, now I’m taking you home”

I yanked my arm out of his grip, my heartbeat increasing and I turned to face him, I could see his eyes slowly starting to glow in these luminous lights within the nightclub.

“Leave me alone.” I said through gritted teeth. His face was the last one I wanted to see, he is the last person I want to be around. He probably knows how I feel yet still talks to me like I’m shit. He has no fucking right. And tonight was supposed to be getting away from him!

“Calla... is everything alright?” Cait asked me.

“Yes. He’s just going”

“No I’m not” Peter said to her, “I’m actually taking her, she knows who I am, and she’s safe with me. I’m related to her friend Derek” He explained.

“Is he?” Cait asked me looking more scared and worried than anyone, because she’s the only one noticing what’s going on.

“Yes he is. Now Peter will you fucking leave” I said still trying to get out of his grip.

He had that same smirk on his face, “Not without you sweetheart”

“Do you want me to call the police?” Cait whispered to me causing Peter to laugh humorously.

I shook my head knowing that I would not win this, “I’ll message you later, you go have fun alright. Just make sure Cam doesn’t end up going home with a complete stranger, and thank you for offering to take me home” I said kissing her cheek,  

She smiled at me, “Message me when you get home” She said to me and I nodded promising. I then yanked my arm out of Peters grip and glared at him whilst walking past him.

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscences Part 4

[thewritingstar]

The legend of the lake

Pairing: Gruvia

I hope you like this quick little Oneshot I whipped up for bed :)

It’s fluff! Don’t worry!

————-

“What’s wrong Gray?” Ur asked as she found the young boy sitting outside in the bitter cold.

She looked up at the sky and saw the fridge air and stars dancing up above.

“Can’t sleep huh?” She looked down where he was pouting.

He gave her no response and shuffled his boots further into the thick snow. It’s was freezing but it kept him awake and soon he had grown numb to the cold.

She took a spot next to him and returned her eyes to the sky. “Me either.”

Gray let out a sigh and watched as his own breath turned to a murky cold cloud, his eyes were heavy but he couldn’t seem to keep them shut.

“Why don’t I tell you a story?” She asked and although there was no verbal reply, he gave her a nod before being pulled closer to her side.

Ur thought for a moment before looking out at the lake. A soft smile appeared on her lips.

“This is the story of the water goddess.” She started and Gray wasn’t too interested but kept listening.

“One foggy day, deep in the heart of an enchanted kingdom, there lived a man and woman. They loved each other very much and wished that they could have a child, but no matter what they did, they couldn’t.”

“Ew children.”

“You’re telling me.” Ur huffed and Gray pouted. “I’m teasing kid.”

“Just continue.”

“Ha, alright.”

“Hm. So the man and woman traveled for days to a lake, one to say possessed magical powers, one that even are magic couldn’t even freeze.”

“I bet I could freeze it.”

“This lake is special.”

“I could.”

“You can’t.”

“You could.”

“I can’t Gray.”

“But you-“

“Anyways-“ she paused. “A storm had traveled over them and as it rained down for what seemed like an eternity, they prayed for a child to be born. The elements above granted their prayer and by the following spring, a baby girl was in the arms of her new parents. Since her body was granted by the rain, it was made purely of water yet held a human form.”

“This baby possessed a different kind of magic, one that didn’t need to be taught, but born within. As she was raised, water became her freind. She feared nothing as she danced side by side with the elements and learned how to harness her natural powers.”

“She was so powerful that by the time she was big enough to speak, she could lock anyone in a bubble of magic and hold them captive. Some have even clamined she’s locked a hundred men before.”

“Sounds like she’s a bad guy instead.” Gray added.

“Not so fast. The water goddess grew up and her own village marveled at her. But one night it was stolen from her. Scared and alone she did what needed to be done and used her powers to help her survive. Her heart was pure as the waves of the sea but when angered, her powers courses like an unimaginable storm. From that day, anger was the only emotion to consume her.”

Gray let out a yawn and tried to keep his eyes open. “What’s next?” He asked but was picked up and taken inside.

“I’m not sure. The legend isn’t complete yet. Maybe one day you’ll find her and learn. Just don’t get lock under her spell.” Ur laughed and tapped his nose before tucking him into bed.

In the next bed Lyon stirred away. “No way I’m going to meet her first.”

“No you’re not!” Gray retorted.

“All right you two, go to bed.” Ur sighed and closed their bedroom door.

“Watch me find her Gray!”

Gray turned on his side and pulled his covers over his head. “She’s not even real so it doesn’t matter, just go to bed.”

——

His body froze in place. Sweat dripped from his brow as he wiped off the dirt caked into his skin. His eyes were shot wide open as he marveled at the scene before him.

Standing with her arms out wide and a determine look plastered on her face was Juvia. Her breathing was heavy and she let out a few short breaths are her magic worked.

A hundred or more people surrounded them, yet they were all captives inside of her water.

“WATER LOCK.” She had yelled and the room was soon underwater with Gray and Juvia standing in the middle.

He watched at it had happened. The memory of the water goddess flooding back to him. She was breathtaking. Her anger had fueled her use this amount of power and they were winning now.

“Gray-sama!” She called and he shook himself from the daze before freezing the water around them. She finally put her arms down and watched as his magic molded with hers and kept all the dark wizards inside.

It was fancsinating to watch. Never before had she seen an ice wizard freeze her own powers. She looked back at Gray and smiled as she realized that he had been the only one to do so.

“Looks like we got this one.” She said and he nodded before they headed to claim their reward.

They enetered the hotel they were staying at after collecting their money and putting those dark wizards into the custody they belonged in.

Juvia stepped into the bathroom to take a shower and Gray found himself leaning on the outside balcony, his eyes floating up to look at the night sky.

“Ya know Ur, I found out how that story ended.” He let out a small laugh. “It ends happily for the both of us.”

“You were right about her being strong and she can in fact water lock hundreds of people. But I’m kinda mad that you left out one detail.”

He turned back and saw her through the glass doors. She was now in her pajamas and brushing out her hair before turning and meeting his eyes and smiling lightly.

“You didn’t tell me that she would be the most gorgeous woman I have ever met.”

The door opened and Juvia stepped out.

“Gray-sama? Are you coming to bed?” She asked.

His smile widen as he took her hand and pulled her close. His lips found hers instantly and she wasted no time in kissing him back.

“Oh.” She said in a dazed way as a smirk crept onto her face, followed by a blush.

“Right behind you.” He winked.

——-

I hope you enjoyed!!!

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 23

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 23: Alfie’s plan goes into motion. 

          Alfie couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had started to avoid looking at mirrors. He really didn’t mind what he looked like, as long as he appeared intimidating to his foes. But he didn’t want to worry Louise and he didn’t want his son growing up and seeing him in such a state. It wasn't fair to either of them. Still, Teddy was a good distraction. Caring for him was never ending and Louise was hesitant to hire a nanny. Taking care of the newborn kept him in the present moment and allowed him to forget about what was ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           One morning, he found Louise burping Teddy in the parlor. “Morning, love.” Alfie kissed his wife and let Teddy grab a hold of his thumb. “Hello there, Teddy. You alright?” He murmured softly.

           Louise smiled but it faded when she looked up at him. The progression of cancer was gradual but sometimes seeing it made her want to cry. It looked terribly painful and there was nothing she could do.

           “Want me to take him?”

           She nodded and handed the baby to Alfie. “How are you feeling today?”

           “Can’t complain, living in paradise aren’t I?” He sat down near his wife and let Teddy rest on his chest. The baby looked so tiny compared to his broad shoulders.

           Louise knew better than to press the matter. Her husband never liked to talk about his cancer. In fact, he was content to go weeks without speaking about it, if possible. Instead, he liked to focus on her and Teddy. It wasn't awful, but she didn't want him to ignore his own health.

           “Can’t believe he only woke us up once last night.” Alfie chuckled and smoothed back his son’s feathery hair. Teddy curled his fists around Alfie’s shirt and rested his cheek down. “Must be a new record for him, innit?”

          "It might be." She agreed softly with a smile. Alfie embraced fatherhood as if it were the best position he could ever hold. He never once complained about Teddy crying or fussing, even if it were in the middle of the night. He remarked on every little stepping-stone. How Teddy’s hair grew, how he started to recognize faces or the tiny smile he gave one afternoon.

           But it still didn’t cancel out the worries he had for his future. What if Teddy’s first and only memory of Alfie was him wasting away? Being eaten alive by horrendous skin cancer? What sort of mental image was that for a young boy to have? Teddy reached up and placed a tiny hand over Alfie’s cheek. The man smiled sadly. “Yeah, mate, I know.” He sighed quietly. “Turning into a monster.”

           Louise frowned. “Alfie…”

           “S’alright, love.” He feigned an amused look. “Becoming the monsters everyone else sees, ain’t I?”

           She stood and walked over to him. “That’s not true at all. You’re still the man I fell in love with.” She knelt in front of him and took the hand that wasn’t supporting Teddy. Her thumb brushed over some of the marks on his skin. “These don’t define you. Look.” She smiled at their son. “That defines you. Our son. You’re not a monster, you’re my husband, the man I love, and a perfect father.”

           Alfie looked at Teddy who had dozed off. “Think it’s time to retire.” He said quietly and tugged her close.

           Louise picked up Teddy and curled up on Alfie’s lap. He wrapped his arms around them both. “Do you want to or do you feel like you have to?” It made her happy to think about Alfie finally retiring. But she didn’t want him to feel forced into it.

           “Nah.” He shook his head and glanced down at the tattoo on his hand. The one he'd gotten so many years ago after the War. A stupid boy who wanted power and reputation. Riches and luxury he never had growing up. How far he'd come from that man. “Getting too old for it, ain’t I?” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Not the young man I used to be.”

           “You’re not old.” She teased and nuzzled him close. “But I would love if you gave it all up if I’m being honest. Wouldn't have to worry about you being in danger anymore.”

           “I know, love.” He stroked her hair. “I’ve got better things here.”

           Louise cuddled Teddy close and smiled. But it faded quickly when she remembered the boxing match. “So what are you going to do?”            

           He thought about Luca’s visit to the bakery. It made his blood boil. That Italian had the nerve to threaten his family. It was a wonder that Alfie didn’t gun him down then and there. But Louise and Teddy were his priority. He would do anything to keep them safe, even if meant making a deal with the devil and turning against the Shelbys.

           “Everything will be okay, love.” He murmured. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Two weeks after Teddy’s birth, Alfie reluctantly went to London to settle everything. He called Ollie to his office early in the morning before most of the other men had arrived at the bakery.

           “Sir, you wanted to talk to me?” The young man knocked on the door before coming in.

           “Yeah, mate, have a seat.” Alfie cleared his throat and took off his glasses.

           “How’re Teddy and Louise?” Ollie asked with a smile.

           “Good, good, both healthy.”

           “Good to hear.” His assistant was pleased to see Alfie find his purpose in his new family. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

           “I’m dying, Ollie.” The words were blunt and were a sharp turn from the joyful conversation about Teddy.

           “Sir…” Ollie’s eyes furrowed. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he'd heard Alfie correctly.

           “Mean, everyone’s dying. Just guess I’m dying a bit faster. Skin cancer.” He rubbed his eyes. “Doctor said I ain’t gonna make it past a few years. Not gonna see me son grow up.” Something stuck in his throat. "Just something I'm going to have to accept."

           It was difficult to see the man facing such a tough diagnosis. For a long time, Ollie thought nothing could tear down Alfie Solomons. But he looked tired. Perhaps it was being a new father but maybe he’d just grown exhausted by the life he lived. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” He asked.

           Alfie busied himself with absent-mindedly organizing his desk. Placing items in one place then moving them seconds later. “No. Just need to get everything in order in next few days.” He flipped open his planner and scanned the scrawling handwriting. A sad smile formed on his lips when he realized how much he missed Louise’s handwriting next to his. Missed the little notes she left him from time to time or the occasional heart she drew for him.

           “The match is next week.” Ollie reminded him.

           “It is. And Luca Changretta’s men will be there.”

           “Sir?”

           “You’ll stay at home. Stay with Shayna and the kids. I’ll be finding your family a place outside of London. Somewhere nice, you deserve it. Won’t hafta worry ‘bout money. I’ll be taking care of it even after I’m gone.”

           Ollie was unnerved by the way his boss was talking. It was so unlike the man he knew very well. Obviously, something had caused a change in him. “Sir, what are you planning on doing?” He had no idea how he’d been involved with the American.

           “Lou and I will be in Margate after the match. I’m retiring.” Alfie made his hands still even though he was still on edge. The end was quickly approaching and he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Had he taken care of everything properly? Would things turn out the way he wanted?

           It was sudden news to Ollie. “You’re retiring? So what’ll happen to the firm?” He asked. It wouldn’t be an easy task liquidating the empire Alfie had built up in alcohol and on the track.

           “Been talking to a few people, you won’t have to worry ‘bout it though.” He assured him. “I’ll handle it, best you’re not involved.”

           “Thank you, sir.” He said quietly and took a deep breath. “End of an era then?”

           Alfie chuckled. “S’pose it is, mate.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out the bottle of whiskey he kept there. He set the bottle in front of his assistant as a little gift. “Guess we can just sit back and watch those gypsy bastards fuck up Britain, aye?”

           Ollie laughed and shook his head. “Will be quite the event to watch.” He agreed and took the bottle.

           “It sure will.”

           Alfie returned to Warwickshire a few days before the boxing match was to take place. There was electricity in the air everywhere he went. Something was sure to happen, he planned for it. But it was still hard to face the music at the end of the day.

           Louise was standing on the front steps with Teddy in her arms. She was smiling warmly.

           Alfie smiled and went to embrace her. His heart was racing and he hoped she couldn’t tell when she hugged him back. Teddy grabbed at Alfie’s shirt collar and held on as if he knew what was going to happen in just a matter of days. Alfie wished he could make them both understand why he was about to go through with such a plan. But no amount of words could explain it. Time was short. All he wanted to do was spend what time he had left with his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

       To say Alfie was nervous wasn’t exactly accurate. He was confident in his actions, but it was something he never thought he would do. But it had to be done. He was so tired.

           Tommy turned into the locker room where Alfie was sitting. The Jewish man seemed guarded not that it was unusual. But he sat straight, his hands resting on his cane, shrouded in shadows by his hat and heavy coat.

           “Yeah, you’re like me, Tommy, can’t bear to watch a fight that’s got so many rules.” Alfie heaved a sigh. The two men sat in silence for a moment. The sounds of the fight were muffled. The crowd roaring and shouting along with each blow.

           “Tommy, imagine that you could not see at all.” Alfie glanced over at the Brummie. “That you was born blind.” When Tommy didn’t speak, he kept on. Maybe the man had learned to let Alfie ramble his way through his words until he was absolutely finished. “Then, one day, you open your eyes and you can see everything in the world. When before you could only hear it or touch it. There it is.” He raised his hand like a magician revealing a trick. “The revelation.”

           Tommy’s icy blue eyes remained on him, not able to follow the man’s train of thought in the slightest. He could see the very obvious marks that riddled his skin. Whatever it was, Tommy had no clue; it seemed painful and aged the man a great deal.

           “I’ve had one.” Alfie nodded and couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Teddy. S’got me eyes. The second he opened them, I asked myself…'Alfie, what are you doing?’ Really, I mean what are you doing? You’ve got a beautiful wife and now you’ve got this little boy. I mean for fuck’s sake, little bit can’t even hold his own head up on his own. You know, what if I just fucked off to Margate and never went back? Sold everything and just disappeared? Think ‘bout how happier Lou would be. Teddy wouldn’t ever have to grow up in the smoke of London.”

           “Louise had the baby.” Tommy didn’t ask, merely stated the now obvious fact.

           “She did, yeah.” Alfie ran a hand over his mouth. His heart ached to be back with his family. “He’ll be eight weeks on Monday. Will be waiting another week before we go to Margate. I need some time.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he stared at the wall in front of him. This was only stage-one of his plan. He only had another week. “Plus, the Americans are here. Big fucks small, aye? Always been like that. There is a fight out there between big and small. And big fucks small, always.” He tapped his cane on the ground and stood up with a grunt. “Right, Margate. Blue skies, heaven.” He turned and looked at the other man. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Tommy. By the pier.”

           The Blinder was beyond suspicious at that point. Of course, Alfie Solomons was always up to something but the talk about retirement threw Tommy for a loop. It most likely meant he was going out with a bang. “Stay for the fight, Alfie.” His voice was tense.

           “Nah, mate, I already know who wins, don’t I?” Alfie held up his glasses. “By the pier, Tommy.” He reminded him before heading out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was late when Alfie returned to Inglewood. He finished up clearing out the rest of the bakery. Instructing Ollie to dispose of the life he once had. Burning through the empire he’d built over so many years. He didn’t regret any bit of it.

           There was a light still on upstairs. Louise sat in bed reading. She seemed content and at peace. Completely unaware of the chaos her husband had initiated and the last stand he planned.

           “How did the match go?” She asked and marked her spot in the book before setting it aside.

           “Left early. Not my cup of tea, innit?” He sighed and got changed for bed. “Quiet night?” It was heart-wrenching to just have pleasant small talk with her. He wanted to get down on his knees and confess all his sins to her, beg for forgiveness, and reminisce on everything she’d given him. He wanted to open his heart to her and tell her how much he treasured her. But that would only raise suspicions and possibly alert her to something.

           “Hm, a violent sport isn’t entertaining to my Alfie?” She teased.

           “Nah.” He smiled and poked his head into the nursery adjoining the master bedroom. Teddy was fast asleep in his crib. His lips parted and his little fists resting by his head. He wasn’t bothered by his parents speaking softly to one another. “Rather be home with you and Teddy.”

           “Or you’re upset that you’re not the one doing any of the punching.” She held up her fists like a boxer.

           Alfie chuckled and got into bed with her. “Should put you in the ring, you’ve knocked me off me feet a couple of times. That little number you wore on our honeymoon? Total knock out.”

           She grinned and cuddled close to him. “Afraid it’ll be a couple of more months before you see me wearing something like that again. Not until Teddy sleeps through the night.”

           The smile on Alfie’s face faltered but he tried not to let it show. He realized he didn’t have a few months left. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close to him. “Think I want to go to Margate next week.”

           “Margate? Oh, Alfie, it’ll be awfully cold by the water.”

           He nodded absent-mindedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Just want a change of scenery.”

           Louise frowned and reached for his hand. “I’ve been worried about you.” She told him honestly. “The past few weeks you’ve been acting differently.”

           “Have I? S’pose there’s a lot going on.” He tried to shrug it off.

           “Is it because of the baby?” Louise was afraid Alfie wasn’t happy. He appeared to enjoy being a father but maybe it was just to make her feel better.

           “What? No, Lou. Absolutely not. You and Teddy are the best things in me life. I’m just trying to get everything settled, is all. Get ready for retiring.” He didn’t disclose that he technically was already retired. After letting the Italians into the boxing match, he’d taken his reward and left. There was a grenade fixed to the door for anyone who was willing to seek him out. So either the bakery would remain empty or it would be blown to pieces. What was done was done.

           “Well, I’m glad you’re doing that. I was afraid Luca Changretta was going to upset things.” Louise thought Alfie had completely avoided any dealings with the Americans. He’d given her no hints or suspicions.

           Alfie felt a little guilty for lying but the less she knew about the match the better. In the long run, she would be kept safe from the Americans and hopefully the Shelbys after that week.

           “Is there anything you need your secretary to do?” Louise smiled up at him. “Or are you letting me retire as well?”

           “Fucking hell, you’ve been retired since you’ve had our son, love. Would never make you work another day in your life.” He kissed her hair. “You’ve done your part, kept me books in order and kept me in line.”

           “I miss being your secretary though.” She pouted. “Got to see you more often.”

           “Well now that I’m retired, love, you get me all the time. Sure you’ll be begging for me to go back to work after two days. I’ll drive you mad.” He teased affectionately.

           “Never.” She smiled and reached up to kiss him. She gave him so much comfort. He only wished he could do the same. “Margate, then?” When she drew away, she looked into his eyes.

           He nodded and touched a hand to her cheek. “Margate. Just for a bit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was cold. The wind was fierce by the shore and there was an ungodly chill in the air. But Louise didn’t seem to mind and was happy to bundle up and take Teddy for walks on the beach with Alfie. Still, she had the persistent feeling that something was going on with Alfie.

           He’d been awfully sentimental and nostalgic. Reminding her about the time they first met, the first time they’d kissed, the dress she wore to the art gallery, their wedding, and so many more memories. He’d linger on each life event as if he were about to forget it only seconds later.

           Alfie had always been touchy, especially after their wedding. But the week at Margate, he acted as if they’d never so much as held hands before. Drawing out every little kiss and letting his hand linger on her arm or squeezing her hand as they walked together.

           He didn’t sleep and stayed up with Teddy if he cried. Louise often heard him speaking to his son in the next room but could never hear what he was saying. He often checked in on Teddy more times than were necessary. His blue eyes looking into the bassinette with worry.

           But if Louise asked if something was wrong, he’d chalk it up to retiring or would say there was nothing wrong at all.

           The night before Tommy was due to arrive, Alfie held onto Louise like a vice when they made love. His fingers digging into her shoulders, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, and repeating over and over again that he loved her more than life itself.

           She didn’t know why, but she began to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           The next morning, Alfie was ready to face the music. His time had come and he was going to face it like a soldier. That’s all he could do, it was far too late to turn back.

           “There you are.” Louise smiled. She was holding Teddy in a small basin of water as she gently washed his soft skin. The baby yawned and squirmed a bit. His fist waving about and trying to grab the washcloth his mother was using.

           Alfie was amazed to see how much he’d grown in such a seemingly short amount of time. It was unfortunate he wouldn’t see him pass any more milestones. He would leave that to Louise to cherish.

           “Right, going for a walk.” He had to keep his voice from shaking. But this was it. The note was on the desk in their room. A sealed letter for Teddy when he was old enough to receive it. Everything was in order. Now he just had to finish the hardest part.

           Louise wrapped Teddy in a towel and held him close. Cyril lingered by her, watching the little bundle in her arms. “On the beach? I could come with you.” She offered.

           “I’d just slow you down.” Alfie forced a smile and walked over to her. “You know I love you, yeah?” He whispered.

           She just laughed and shook her head. “If I didn’t know by now I’d be pretty thick, wouldn’t I?” She teased.

           “Nah, you’re as bright as they come.” He chuckled weakly and kissed her forehead. His eyes fell on Teddy who was dozing off against Louise’s shoulder. What could he say to his son who wouldn’t understand? “He’ll be bright too.”

           “I guess we’ll just have to see.” Louise smiled and carefully dried off Teddy’s dark hair. “But I’m sure he will be if he’s got his father’s wits.” She went to set the baby down in the bassinette. “I was going to make breakfast, you won’t be long will you?”

           Alfie couldn’t shake the large lump in his throat. “No, love, I’ll be quick.”

           She only smiled and went into the small kitchen.

           Her husband lingered, not wanting to leave quite yet. “Lou.” He walked over to her.

           “Mhm?”

           “I love you.” He said again and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed her jaw and neck, trying to hold onto the way she felt. Trying to leave just enough of himself with her. She already had his heart.

           “I know, dear. I love you too.” She replied with an amused look.

           He rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Whatever I’ve done, yeah, I’ve done it because I love you and I don’t want you to suffer.”

           Louise frowned. “Alfie, is something the matter? Honestly, it must be something other than retiring. You’re acting so strange and it’s making me worry about you.”

           “No, nothing’s wrong. I just want you to know.” He kissed her cheek and forced himself to withdraw. “I’ll only be a mo’.” He passed by the bassinette and stopped. “You be good to mumma, yeah?”

           Teddy opened his eyes and kicked his feet up. He could only make little noises of contentment in response.

           “Yeah, you’ll be the man of the house. You’ll need to keep her safe.” He whispered and lightly wiggled his tiny toes. “Oh the stories she’ll tell you.” A sad smile crossed the man’s face. “You probably won’t believe them at first. But they’re real…I did them all. Only believe her though. Anyone else is telling you fucking lies. She’s the only one who truly knew me.” He swallowed and leaned down to kiss Teddy’s small forehead. “I love you, never forget that. I hope you understand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The sun was still burning in the sky when Alfie made it down to the shoreline. It bleached everything white and gave a strange purgatory feeling.

He kept his eyes on the horizon when he heard Tommy approaching.

           “You were easy to find.”

           Alfie punched out a bitter laugh. “Well, there is a good reason for that, mate. I wanted it to be here, didn’t I? Beautiful, innit?”

           Tommy stood a little bit away as he listened to the man ready to accept his fate.

           “Lou…” Alfie twisted and pointed up near the dunes. “I proposed to her right up there. This morning, she were down here with Teddy.” A smile pricked his face and he felt his eyes sting from the wind and the tears he held back. “Letting him put his little feet in the water. She looked at me and said, ‘This is paradise, Alfie. We don’t ever hafta go back to Camden if we didn’t want to’.”

           “Alfie.” Tommy tried to interrupt.

           “Me mum took me here when I was little. Couldn’t fucking swim and nearly drowned. What you think, Tommy, reckon it’d be better if she let me drown?” His blue eyes looked over at the man. “Yeah, lotta people would still be alive, wouldn’t they? Their families wouldn’t be mourning them. Wouldn’t have had to fight in that fucking war.”

           “You wouldn’t have met Louise,” Tommy interjected. “You wouldn’t have helped her out of that situation. You got rid of her husband.”

           Alfie laughed sarcastically. “Thing is Tommy, women like her, people like her they always find something. Hell, if I don’t wonder every day if she could’ve found someone better than me. Me? I couldn’t have done any fucking better. You ask me, yeah, all I’ve done is brought her pain.”

           Tommy opened his mouth but Alfie didn’t let him get a word in.

           “Got skin cancer.” He spoke with brutal honesty. “Riddled with it, picked it up in France from those fucking gases.” He shook his head. “And Lou…I’ll be damned if she has to watch me die slowly.”

           “So you’ll let her find you dead on a beach?” Tommy asked harshly. “How’d you figure that would be any better?”

           Alfie rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands deep in his pockets. He didn’t want to answer that question. He didn’t want to face his reality anymore. “Y’know, I know how you felt when you lost Grace and when Charlie was taken. M’not a fucking monster, am I? D’you know what I would do if Lou was shot dead in front of me or if Teddy was taken? I’d tear the whole fucking universe to shreds, mate. But now I’ve made me bed, right, and everything’s done. I made a deal with the Americans to get into the fight. Weren’t anything to do with you or your family, I was only doing it to save me own. Call me what you want, but I needed to make sure they would leave Louise alone once I’m gone. Now we’re even. I get your brother killed and you kill me. That’s the way our world works, innit? Fucking cycle of people killing people killing people.”

           “Alfie.”

           “I’m retired, Tommy, but I’ve made peace with everything. I’d give me life a million times in order to keep her and Teddy safe. Lou will be fine when I’m gone. She’ll be protected and well off for the rest of her life. S’pose all I can ask is that you leave her the fuck alone. You’ll get your money’s worth by killing me. No use going after her and me boy. But I trust you’re an honorable man and wouldn’t do that.”

           “Alfie, shut up.” Tommy snapped in a low voice.

           “Oh, for fuck's sake, Tommy, just get on with it!” Alfie demanded. “You know you’re going to do it. So, finish it off so you can go back to your scheming, aye?”

           Tommy gritted his teeth and pulled out his gun. He aimed and let his finger go heavy on the trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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[elenajohansenauthor]

#tumblrspiritweek, Wordy Wednesday, Part I

Since this is all about our own work, now’s a good opportunity for some #shameless self promotion. I’ve already posted the first chapter of my first novel, What We Need to Survive, a few times, but not recently.

The overview: post-apocalyptic romance, grim world but hopeful message, first of a trilogy following the same couple, potential triggers = global collapse due to illness, rape mention, gun violence, other weapon violence, onscreen character deaths (not the mains! yes there is a happy ending!)

I KNOW THIS ISN’T NECESSARILY WHAT EVERYONE WANTS TO READ RIGHT NOW. I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I also couldn’t know in 2015 when I published this that I’d be trying to make a living as an author through an actual pandemic. I am writing other things that don’t have plagues in them (and I will post the first chapter of my current WIP later today) but I love these books and I’d be sad to give up on them just because the real world sucks right now.

So I get it, if this is the wrong time for you to read this. Check back later today for some rock-star action.

If you’re still here through all of that, this book is currently on sale for 99 cents and the trilogy omnibus edition for $4.99;or if you’re up for reading it in a timely fashion and leaving an honest review, I’m always willing to send out [free, digital] review copies, hit me up.

Below the cut: the first chapter in its entirety.

Chapter 1 - Cigarette Lighters

August 23rd, 4:23 pm – Somewhere along US-36, Central Ohio

Paul kicked a rock out of his path, watching it bounce and skitter down the highway.

He saw no point in wasting breath on cursing the weather. One squall of rain caught him earlier in the day, forcing him into the cramped shelter of one of the abandoned cars dotting the road. But the boom of thunder in the distance worried him. He’d spent plenty of nights out in the open. Sleeping in the rain was miserable enough, but he imagined sleeping through a storm would be next to impossible.

He looked up, but thick forest on both sides of the highway hid all but the narrowest strip of sky. Blank, unbroken gray hovered above him. There was no way to judge how close the storm was, except for the unreliable system of counting Mississippis.

The closest building he remembered passing was at least half an hour behind him, maybe an hour. The closest town he’d left behind yesterday afternoon. Turning back might get him to shelter before the storm struck, if he hurried.

Or it might not. The road ahead curved away from him, and the trees could hide anything.

Paul kept moving forward, faster under the threat of rain.

Ten minutes later, he spied a gas station and picked up his pace even more.

As he got closer, the station didn’t seem promising. Most of the windows gaped empty, broken down to their frames, and the front door hung askew on a broken hinge. The first fallen leaves of the season littered the parking lot. Shards of glass from the broken windows and random bits of trash lay scattered among them.

The rain started as Paul reached the edge of the parking lot. He sprinted for the cover of the roof protecting the pumps.

Hard-won caution kept him from dashing the rest of the way inside. Instead he approached the building with slow, deliberate steps, holding up his empty hands. “Hello in there!” he called. “Anybody home?”

There was no answer, but Paul remained wary. When he was a few yards from the open door, he stopped and called again. “Is anyone there? I ain’t lookin’ for trouble, just a place to get out of the rain.”

A shuffling sound came from his right, and a movement that flickered in the corner of his eye. He turned toward it and saw a gun pointed in his direction. The gunman himself hid in the shadow of the empty window frame.

“Stay where you are!” the man shouted. His voice was deep and authoritative, the kind of voice that focused the attention of anyone who heard it. Paul didn’t doubt it belonged to a man willing to shoot him, if necessary.

“No trouble,” Paul repeated. “I was hopin’ this place was empty, ‘cause I’d rather be inside than out with a storm overhead. But if I ain’t welcome, I’ll move on.”

“Stay right there, and give me a minute!”

Paul did as the man ordered, watching the gun in the window, which didn’t move. He guessed the man was talking to someone inside, but he couldn’t hear anything. While he waited, the rain grew heavier, pinging on the corrugated metal of the roofing like the highest notes played on a huge steel drum.

“You got any weapons?” the deep-voiced man called out.

“Just the knife on my belt,” Paul answered. “No guns.”

“You can wait out the storm with us in here, then be on your way. Sound reasonable?”

Paul lowered his hands. “Yeah, that’s good.” The gun disappeared from the window, and the knot of tension in Paul’s chest loosened. He hadn’t believed he was going to get shot, but he was relieved to be right.

Unless they were going to rob him the minute he walked in the door. But it was too late to run now. If they meant to take his supplies, then the man with the gun could shoot him in the back when he fled.

Best to play along.

A man with dark brown skin and chin-length dreadlocks appeared in the doorway. He was shorter than Paul, but that didn’t mean he could be dismissed as a threat, since he was much more heavily muscled. His straight-backed posture and firm gaze shouted military to Paul. Or maybe cop. And he sported a holster on his belt. The man with the gun.

Unless there’s more than one of ‘em.

When Paul didn’t move, he flashed a grin, wide and startlingly white. “Come on in,” he said, beckoning with one hand. He stood aside to let Paul through.

The inside of the station wasn’t in any better shape than the outside. The metal shelving units were empty, all the chocolate bars and potato chips gone. Glass-fronted refrigerators lined the back wall, but those were empty, too. At the counter, the cash register lay on its side, the drawer popped loose. Paul guessed that had happened in the first few days, when looters thought money still meant something. It hadn’t taken long before that wasn’t true anymore. Dark patches stained the white linoleum floor. Paul hoped they weren’t blood. Though they probably were.

“I’m John,” the man said. His voice sounded almost friendly, and Paul lifted his hand in automatic reaction to meet John’s for a shake. He dropped it when he saw there was no hand offered.

“Paul.” He settled for giving John a nod instead.

John turned and headed for an open space beyond the counter. Paul meant to follow, but he stopped short at the sight of a girl crouched under the window. She was small, her thin limbs folded in on themselves to take up as little space as possible. Her black hair was oddly uneven in length, not quite reaching her shoulders. Paul guessed it was growing out from whatever shorter style she’d had, before. Her wide eyes watched him with silent tension, like a fawn ready to bolt to safety.

Paul hadn’t met many kids on the road, but most of them looked a lot like her. Frail and frightened, not ready to face what the world had become since the plague had ruined everything.

Before Paul could decide what to say to her—or even if he should say anything at all—she shot to her feet and followed John across the room. Her ill-fitting clothes didn’t completely hide the curves of her body, and the swing of her hips was shocking and compelling at the same time. She wasn’t a young girl at all. Her head wouldn’t even reach Paul’s shoulder, but she was a grown woman, right down to the angry toss of her hair.

But still frightened.

Paul let her have her distance from him. With any luck, the storm would pass before nightfall, leaving him time to move on and make camp somewhere else for the night. He’d shared makeshift shelter with strangers before, talked, and traded, but he never slept well. And it was no great leap to guess the woman didn’t want him there.

Though she had let him in, at least. That was why she’d been at the window, Paul guessed—John had checked with her before giving Paul permission.

Lightning flashed outside. Paul counted four-Mississippi before the thunder rolled over the building. After the next strike, he counted three.

If the light were better, he could pass the time scribbling in his notebook. A half-formed song had haunted his thoughts for days, and he’d welcome a chance to jot down the lyrics. But it would be a waste of ink and paper trying to write by lightning flashes.

If the company were better, he could talk and see about some trading. He was running lower than he liked on food, though he had enough to see him through the next day or two. The towns on this stretch of the highway all seemed to be one or two days apart, so he expected to hit another one tomorrow. He could spend a day searching houses for supplies.

Glancing around the interior of the station, he wondered if there was a rack of local road maps. So far, he’d been navigating by the ones posted on the walls at rest stations. But it was too dark to see much of anything, except a weak glow from the far corner. Someone had lit a candle. He heard low voices talking. John’s, he recognized. Another one, lighter and higher-pitched, he assumed was the woman’s. But there was a third, too, higher still and squeaky.

Another flash of lightning drew Paul’s attention back to the window. No need to introduce himself to the others if they were only company while the storm lasted. With nothing else to do, he cleared a space on the counter, sat on it, and watched the storm.

There was a light patter of footsteps. Paul turned just as someone reached out to touch his arm. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Paul replied. The boy looked about nine or ten. His skin was almost the same deep brown shade as John’s. The glow of the candlelight behind him traced the edges of his short corkscrew curls, giving them a faint golden sheen.

“Do you want to trade with us before we eat dinner?” he asked, half-polite and half-shy. “Maybe we have something different, if you’re tired of what you got.”

“Sure.” Paul slid off the counter top and followed the boy over to the others.

John sat cross-legged with his back to one wall. “Aaron, I told you not to bother him.”

Aaron shrugged as he settled beside John. “I just wanted to see if he had any different food we could trade for. I’m tired of peanut butter crackers.”

In the corner, the woman sat with her knees drawn up before her. She flicked a glance at Paul but said nothing as he pulled off his pack and sat down several feet away.

“You might be in luck, then, Aaron,” Paul said. “I’ve got some granola bars. The s'mores kind, I think.”

Aaron gave him a big smile that was nearly identical to John’s. Paul didn’t want to leap to any conclusions based on the fact that they were both black, but they looked enough alike to be father and son. So far, they were acting like it.

Paul stole another glance at the woman as she stared into the candle flame, ignoring everything else. Her skin was a lighter golden brown, under the smudges of dirt. And despite the realization that she wasn’t a child, she didn’t look anywhere near old enough to be Aaron’s mother. So who was she, and how did she end up with them?

The sound of a zipper snapped his thoughts back into focus—Aaron had a battered red backpack on the floor in front of him. He reached in and pulled out two packets of crackers.

Paul rifled through his own supplies and turned up two granola bars in exchange. He was about to ask what else they might want, open-ended, to see if he could draw the woman out at all. Before he could, he heard wet, squelching footsteps from the front of the building. He leaped to his feet, whirling to face the newcomers. Three of them, two women and a man, all middle-aged, all splattered with rain.

“Easy, Paul.” John’s voice was firm. “They’re with us.”

“If we’d known the rain would start so soon,” the man said, “we could’ve just set these outside and let the storm fill them up.” He had a large metal water bottle in each hand. One he passed to John, the other he set on the floor beside him as he sat down. “So you made a new friend while we were gone?”

A soft snort came from the corner, but John answered them without acknowledging it. “Just sharing the roof until the storm passes.”

The man pulled off his baseball cap, ran a tanned hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and smiled. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to get rained on.” He stuck out his other hand, which Paul shook briefly. “Mark.”

“Paul.”

“And this is my wife, Sarah,” he went on as one of the women sat down on his other side. The rain plastered her short blond hair to her forehead, but she smiled too and passed the extra bottle she carried to Aaron.

“Nice to meet you, Paul,” she said.

The final newcomer was still standing, looking down at Paul with a curious intensity. “Hello there.” Handsome, Paul mentally tacked on, because that was the exact tone she used. Since she was staring, he did too.

She was tall, or maybe she only seemed tall because she was lean and angular. Her hair was a riot of messy red curls in dire need of a wash, but she was pretty, in a faded, tired sort of way. Before the plague hit, she must have been beautiful. Before her eyes grew ringed with dark circles and her cheeks hollowed out from lack of food. “I’m Alison.”

Paul nodded. Alison tilted her head to the side for a moment, clearly waiting for more. When she didn’t get it, she strode past him. Behind him, which made his shoulder blades itch before he realized she was going to the small woman’s side.

Who still hadn’t given her name. Someone would, though. Paul could be patient.

Alison leaned against the wall and tapped it twice with the extra bottle in her hand. The sound reminded Paul of a food dish being set on the floor for a pet. Without looking, the woman reached her hand up, palm flat, and Alison set the bottle on it. Neither of them said a word.

When Alison sat down between her and Paul, closer to him than he would have liked, he had to resist the urge to pull away. No sense in being rude if he was only here until the storm let up.

“So, Paul,” Mark said with forced cheerfulness, “which way you headed?”

“East.”

Mark’s lips twisted behind his dark scruff of a beard, which hadn’t gone as white as his hair yet. “Damn, us too. I was hoping you were coming from there, so we could get an idea what the road ahead was like.”

Shaking his head, Paul said, “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

“Maybe you can,” Sarah said. “Do you have anything to trade?”

With an easy smile, Paul asked, “What d'you need?”

Sarah pursed her lips as she thought, and the cuteness of the expression took years off her face. “Extra socks?” she asked, hopeful enough that Paul knew she needed them, but resigned enough that she didn’t expect to get them.

Paul shook his head and turned to Mark. “Smokes.” Which earned him a light slap on the shoulder from his wife. “What, it’s been weeks now!” But Paul’s answer was another shake of his head.

John had Aaron seated in his lap and was finger-combing the boy’s hair. “I’m not holding my breath that you’ve got any natural-hair care products. I’m more likely to get struck by lightning. Inside.”

The dry, deadpan tone startled a laugh out of Paul. “I ain’t even got anything for myself right now,” he said, scratching at his dark blond hair. “I’m way overdue for a wash, and dunkin’ my head in a river ain’t the same. I’d shave it all off if electric razors were still a thing.”

Mark gestured at him. “You’ve got a knife.”

“I’d cut myself to ribbons. I think I’ll keep bein’ shaggy for now.”

Aaron, sensing his turn, piped up. “Any books? I’ve read the one I have about a dozen times by now.”

“Not much of a reader,” Paul answered. “What book you got?”

“Treasure Island,” Aaron said. “I like adventure stories.”

Alison snorted. “You’re living in one.”

John gave her a narrow-eyed look over Aaron’s head, but he didn’t say anything.

“Pain killers.”

The sharp and sudden request focused Paul’s attention on its source, the unnamed woman. Gone was the frightened doe of a girl—now her eyes were hard and flat. “Half a bottle of aspirin,” he offered. “What’ll you give me for it?”

“All I’ve got to spare is food. Cheese crackers, chocolate bars, take your pick. Or a can of Red Bull, if you’re afraid to sleep in here with us tonight and want to stay awake instead.”

“Nina …” John said with more than a hint of warning in his voice.

So she’s got a name after all.

“It’s thunderstorm season,” she said. “We’ve been lucky so far they haven’t been worse, but this one’s not going to pass over in an hour like you hope. We’re going to be here overnight.”

Alison hunched forward, elbows on her knees. “How do you know?”

“The weather here isn’t much different from where I grew up,” she answered with a slight shrug. “I lived with this every summer as a kid.” She turned back to Paul. “Anyway, does that work for you?”

Medicine of any kind was valuable, even the common stuff like aspirin. Food was never a bad trade, but he doubted she had enough to spare. “You hurt?” he asked, stalling.

“Cramps,” she answered shortly, and Paul suppressed a grin.

Any urge he’d felt to smile, though, disappeared when Alison spoke. “I’d think you’d be glad you’re having them.”

Paul found the bottle in his pack and rolled it across the floor toward Nina. It stopped at the toe of her boot, and she stared at it without speaking. “Don’t need any food,” Paul said, though it wasn’t strictly true. “I’ve got enough for myself for now. But since y'all were here first, I figure anything left in this place is yours, and I saw some lighters in the display on the counter. I’d be happy with a few of those. Seems like a good thing to have, and they might come in handy for trades down the line.”

Off to his other side, John and Mark traded a stunned look—Paul guessed they hadn’t noticed the lighters. Mark got up to retrieve them. “Let’s see …” he said, counting. “If we each keep one for ourselves, that leaves six for you. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Paul said. Mark brought them over to him, and out of the corner of his eye Paul watched Nina. She didn’t reach out to take the aspirin until the lighters were in his hands. Mark distributed the rest of them while Nina swallowed a few pills with a swig from her water bottle. She noticed Paul watching and nodded at him. He figured that was the closest she would come to thanking him, so he gave her a smile. Not the huge, dazzling grin that his mother had once told him would break hearts someday. Instead it was the small curve at the corners that his girlfriends, over the years, had all told him was sweet. He used the first one on women he wanted to impress—the second was usually reserved for the ones he was already close to. But the last thing he wanted to do was make Nina think he was attracted to her.

Even though he was. Illuminated by the candlelight, Paul could see she had beautiful eyes, big, vividly blue, and fringed with thick lashes. He had a pronounced weakness for women with gorgeous eyes.

But Paul could see Nina wasn’t like some of the other women he’d met on the road in the aftermath of the plague. The ones just as lonely as he was, who were willing to trust him for the length of one night before they parted ways in the morning. He never looked back, and neither did they. There hadn’t been many, and it had been weeks since the last time, so it was only natural he’d find himself falling in lust with someone.

Even if prying words out of that someone was a challenge.

Before the silence between them stretched on too long, Paul forced himself to look away. “Alison, you want anything?”

[fantasiesandbooks]

Tenerife Sea ii

I don’t own any of the photos.

Prologue 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 Part 15

The next day you didn’t want to get out of bed, you really considered on calling the guys and saying you just didn’t feel like working out and suddenly, as if they had read your mind, your phone buzzed. It was Baekhyun, “great way to start the day” you thought. 

You picked up at the third ringing “hey Baek”.

“Hey y/n,” he said in his cheerful voice. “ are you ready? I’m near your apartment and I can pick you up if you like”.

You thought that maybe if you go on your own you could avoid the talk about Chanyeol that Baekhyun was saving for when he sees you but honestly, knowing him, you know sooner or later he’ll bring the subject to bother the hell out of you.

“Yeah, sure! Just let me know when you’re here” you answered.

“Ok, see you y/n”.

“Thanks Baek, bye” you said and hang up.

You thought about what Chanyeol had said yesterday when he asked you if you wanted to impress someone, well that someone was him but he didn’t know. You thought maybe that could be the first step to, at least, get notice by him in another way aside from his best friend. You never were the type of girl that wears revealing clothes but now you considered in showing the curves you’ve worked so hard for, so you put on some black shorts that accentuated your hips and a baby blue tank top that hugs your waist and upper body nicely.  You were getting all your stuff ready when you received a message from Baekhyun saying we was outside, you took your bag and got out of the apartment. When you got into his car he gave you a bewildered look and gasped, “wow, I didn’t know you were that fit”. You glared at him, “Don’t look so surprised, I do work out, it’s just that I do it on my own now since you guys are burried in work” - honestly they worked like maniacs, especially now that most of them were preparing their solo or subunits albums- you put your seatbelt on and he started the car. You were looking at the road when the man asked you “so... what is your plan?”. Oh no! Here we go again with the chanyeol thing you thought, “what is my plan for what?... For my life, my career, this day...?” You answered, trying to seem as if this was unimportant to you. He whined at your answer “you know what I’m talking about, Chanyeol?!... our best friend, the tall guy with big ears and dorky smile, you remembered him, don’t you?” You kind of smile at his lame but almost accurate description of Chanyeol, you sighed  before answering him “honestly I don’t know, I don’t want to tell him about how I feel because I’m too scared he will reject me and everything changes between us but sometimes I feel so frustrated with myself and thinkk I’m going to explode if I don’t talk about it” you looked at your hands and gave another resignited sigh.

“Well... have you ever noticed something off with him, like what he says, the way he looks at you, or how does he’d been acting recently? Something that might suggest he’s interested in you in another way?” He asked you.

“Nothing, I mean he acts as usual and sometimes he says to me that I look pretty or hugs me but that’s something you guys also do, so no...” you said.

“I can’t fully trust you on that as you are kind of dumb for notice that signs” he said and you smacked his arm.

“Why did you hit me?” He said with an offended tone, “it’s the true... remember that guy from our production team that was always trying to talked to you when you were backstage waiting for us. He seemed to be stuck with you until he asked you out and you said no” he laughed at the memory.

That was true, you were clueless on that matter and thought he was just being nice and when he asked you out you felt very uncomfortable and rejected him. “Yes I remembered” you winced at the embarrasing memory.

“See?! That’s my point, maybe you’re not paying enough attention and he’s trying to hint you his true feelings.” Baekhyun said and shrugged.You went silenced and really hope he was right about it.

The rest of the way went smoothly, listening music and talking about others things. You always  had found easily to talked and joked around with Baekhyun, as the same as arguing and fighting, you could say you had a kind of siblings relationship with him.

When you arrived at the gym you two separated to leave their things in your lockers and meet up with the other guys at the training area. Baekhyun arrived first and greeted Chanyeol and Sehun.

Where’s y/n? Chanyeol asked, looking around the area in case he sees you.

“I told her we would be near the cardio area entrance” baekhyun said “oh look! she’s coming” he pointed at you and the other two turned around their heads.

Chanyeol and Sehun couldn’t believe their eyes as you were approaching. They have never seen you in that kind of outfit before because you always wear comfy clothes around them, especially for the gym, since you don’t want people staring at you.  When you greeted them they kept staring at you in awe while Baekhyun smirked and gave you a thumps up without the others noticing it.

“Hi guys” you said at them, feeling kind of awkward at their staring but you fight the urge of covering yourself and tried to appear normal about it.

“Hi” both of them said sounded baffled.

“Damn y/n, you really want to raise some heartbeats here” Baekhyun said in a joking way. “I mean you really look nice, right guys?!” He elbowed Chanyeol, who still was looking at you as if a third head had grown out of your neck.

“You really do y/n” Sehun said giving you a high five. You smiled back at him, feeling a little bit more confident after their compliments.

“Yes... umh... you look nice” Chanyeol said in an awkward way trying to avoid your eyes and scratching his neck.

You didn’t know what to think about his response, in a way you were expecting a different reaction from him, something more enthusiastic if you could say that, not the uncomfortable look he gave you, maybe Baekhyun was right and he felt something for you... or Maybe he thought it was wrong looking at your body since you were one of his best friends” You tried to shake the thought away and asked “so what are we going to do?”  “I was thinking we could workout out in pairs, you know, to Motive each other” Baekhyun suggested “I mean, sehun is lazy on his own and that way it could be more fun” “I’m not lazy” Sehun scoffed, “I like taking my time, that’s why I prefer going on my own”  he started walking towards the treadmill “see you later guys” he said waving his hand without turning to looked at the three of you. Everyone looked after him, Baekhyun gave him a glare and said “remind me to smack him later. What about you Yeol? You’re in?” “Actually… I think I want to go on my own too” Chanyeol said uncomfortably as he looked at you guys.  If you were feeling hopeful after baekhyun’s suggestion, now your mood was going downhill after his response, but still you tried to looked ok and give him a little smile.

“It’s ok, go and we’ll see you after we’re done” you reassure him.

He nods and walked to the other side of the room. As you saw him walking away your smile flattered and Baekhyun groaned in an annoyed way.

“You’re not making my work any easy woman” he said to you.

“What are you talking about?. They clearly didn’t want to be part of your plan” you said in a frustrated way.

“Yes but you could have been a little bit more persistent and enthusiastic about it, instead you just said “it’s ok Chan... see you” he said in an acute voice and smiling, trying to imitate you.

You scoffed at him and said ”I don’t talk like that” 

He rolled his eyes “anyway, lets get going, We’re not wasting our time with these assholes”. He started walking and turned when he saw you were not walking “y/n come on”.               You looked at him with regretful eyes.

“Sorry Baek but i think I want some time alone to clear my head”.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” he said frustrated.

“Sorry, I’ll catch up with you later” and started walking to the lookers room.

“Nice team work” he muttered sarcastically and went on his own.

After 15 minutes sitting and thinking about Chanyeol’s awkward behavior you decided not to let that affected you even more, “you’re better than this” you told yourself, so you cheered yourself up  and went again to the training area to see baekhyun and not let him die on his own, after all he was just trying to help you, although he didn’t mention that was gonna be his “plan” to help you in all the way to the gym.

You went back to the training area and scanned it with your eyes in search for him, saw Sehun on the treadmill and another couple of people working out across the room when you fixed your gaze on one spot. Chanyeol was lifting weights in the corner of the room, you could see the effort he was making in the way his arms and back muscles tensed, sweat in his face, arms and back that make his T-shirt stick to it. “Damn he looks good” you thought to yourself while looking at him. You were not aware of your surroundings anymore until you felt a hand on your right shoulder that startled you.

“You’re going to flood the gym if you keep drooling like that over him” Baekhyun said nodding  at the direction your eyes got lost. Your cheeks started burning as the embarrassament of being caught started growing inside you.

You turned to look at the man next to you and said “Hey…amm… I’m sorry for leaving you” You tried to give him your puppy eyes but he gave you a judging one in return.

“Although I appreciate your apologies, now I’m feeling low and a “sorry” is not enough, I’m afraid, to cheer me up” He said while looking at the floor. You knew he was messing with you, he loved when people beg for his attention. You sighed “fine… I’ll treat you dinner tonight” He turned his amusing gaze to you and was about to say something when you cut him off and added rapidly while pointing a finger at him “But just you, I don’t have enough money for inviting the other guys also”. That was true, you’ll have to wait for your payday until next Friday and in the meantime you were trying to survive with the money you have been saving, which was in comparisson, a joke between their earnings and yours.

“Ok y/n, I think we have a deal” He said in his cheerfull voice again, giving you his signature smile and extended his hand to you for a shaking. You rolled your eyes but shake it anyway, “Let’s go” He said to you and grabbed your hand for you to follow him “I need a really good workout session if I want to eat everything I’m intended to on your treat” He gave you a mischievous smile and you coud hear in your mind your bank account screaming because you knew after that you most likely will have to stick with homemade meals for the rest of the week.

After and hour or so all of the guys and you have finished their workouts, Baekhyun really took the “good session” seriously as he made you do a routine so intense that now you were sore all over your body, maybe even in some places you’d never thought could be sore. You were walking a few steps behind him towards Chanyeol and Sehun who were waiting for you in the entrance and were chatting in a light mooded way.

“Hey guys, how was your workouts?” Baekhyun asked them once he joined the pair. While looking at Chanyeol you could tell he was in a better mood now.

“It was good” Sehun said shrugging and Chanyeol just nodded in agreement. Once you arrived with them, he turned to look at you since you were walking in a funny way and grunting a little bit.

He raised an eyebrow at you and asked “How was for you?”.

“Awesome” “Rough” both you and Baekhyun said in unison. “Nonsense” He said with a dismissive gesture “she can’t handle an awesome trainer as me” said proudly.

You and Sehun rolled your eyes at him while Chanyeol smirked at him and shake his head. Sometimes you can’t understand how the red head has so much confidence in himself, maybe you should learn that from him instead of how to do a “proper squat” according to him.

“Are you ok?” Chanyeol looked at you with a little bit of concern in his gaze.

“I’m fine” you said, but in reality you wanted to crawl back to the lockers room as you were feeling your ass and legs burned like never in your life before.

He nodded at your response and both of you returned your gaze to the other guys who were chatting.

“So what are we going to do this afternoon? You guys want to go out and grab something to eat?” Sehun asked.

“I actually have some things to do at the apartment so I’m gonna go after this, sorry Hun” You replied to him.

“I’m gonna go to the studio, I need to work on some arrangements for the album” Chanyeol said.

“I can´t, I’m going out tonight so I have to get to the dorms to prepare myself” said Baekhyun. The other boys turned to looked at him with a questioning look while your eyes popped open at his answer. Everybody knew he liked to spend his free time enjoying himself whether at a club or a bar but, if he was considering on going on a “ladies conquest”, -as he used to call it- he put a special effort in“preparing himself”.

“Where are you going?” asked Sehun, “maybe I could go with you. Suho wants to cleaned our room and I’m not in the mood of it today,” He sighed and kept his gaze on him.

You got nervous at Baekhyun’s answer as you didn´t want the others to find out about your plans with him, so you squeezed his arm a little bit hard and leaned on him pretending you were having a leg cramp, “oh oh oh it hurts” you said while scrunting your face and trying to rubb your leg, the boys turned to looked at you, Sehun and Chanyeol with a somewhat concern gaze and Baekhyun looked at you as if you were crazy,

“Are you okay?” Chanyeol asked you and try to grabbed your leg where you were rubbing it. Neither of the two boys notice that you gave Baekhyun a hard gaze and shake your head slighty, he caught the sign as “don´t tell them about tonight” and you turned to looked at chanyeol “oh… it’s ok now, I got a leg cramp but it’s fading already” you stand up straight and Sehun gave you a strange look –weird- he thought to himself but said nothing and turned to Baekhyun again, waiting for his answer.

“So, you were saying…” The tall boy said.

While Baekhyun was trying to come up with a good lie quickly and chatting with Sehun about it, Chanyeol turned to looked at you “are you really ok?” he was scrunting his eyebrows, a thing he’ll do when he was concerned or super concentrated. You returned his gaze “Yes, I mean I’m still sore from the workout but I’ll be fine” He nodded. Both of you returned your attention to the conversation, watching a resigned Sehun giving a heavy sigh “Aah, fine… I guess I’ll be stuck with cleaning today”.

“Sorry Sehun” said Baek in a regretful tone “but hey, tomorrow we can go to the new bar that opened at the downtown center, all right?” he said in a cheerful voice.

“Fine, but the drinks are on you”.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t go overboard with it, I hate to carry you when you get drunk” Baekhyun said annoyed.

“It’s nice making deals with you” the younger said with a smirk on his face.

“That was close” you thought, “ok guys I’m gonna go shower, probably I won’t see you after so goodbye” you waved at them and started heading for the lockers room “ah, Baek… I forgot my jacket on your car, should I go for it now or are we leaving together?” you said as you turned to looked at them.

“Together?” Chanyeol watched the two of you in confussion. “Did you come together?.

“Yes, I picked her up in the morning” said Baekhyun.

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? I could have picked you up, too.” Chanyeol turned to looked at you with and unreadable face.

“Because it wasn’t on my plans, he called me in the morning and offered” you said as if it wasn’t something important.

Chanyeol kept looking at the two of you with stern eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n, I have to go buy some food for Mongryong” said the other boy with a regretful look.

“It’s ok, don’t worry, I can take a cab” you said “but can you bring me my jacket?” he nodded “wait here” he said and started going for the parking lot.

“Well guys I see you later, I’m gonna go shower so Baek can give me a lift” Sehun said and waved goodbye at you and Chanyeol.

“I can take you back home” he said out of the blue and you turned to look at him surprised “It’s ok Chan, I can go on my own and besides, you have to go to the studio, I don’t want you to be late” you said, trying to avoid going with him.

 “It’s fine, It’ll only take me a couple of minutes” he insisted so you gave up and nodded in agreement “ok, thank you, so I’ll see you in the parking lot” you said to him, “fine, I’ll see you later” he said and went for the lockers room.

 You could feel how your nervousness started building up at the thought of going with him “It’s ok y/n, you have done this tonnes of times before so it shouldn’t be different” you told yourself in an attemp to reassure you everything was fine “just try not to say something weird or getting deep in your feelings”.

“Hey” Baekhyun came trotting and handed you the jacket. “What am I gonna do?” you said to him with frantic eyes, “with what?” he asked unawared of the situation, “Chanyeol is taking me home” you answered. He grabbed you by the arms “first breathe” he said, making you inhaling and exhaling “second, it’s ok, try to keep the conversation on him, ask him about work, the concert, the other guys, I don’t know, just don’t get in things about relationships and stuff like that” you just nodded trying to list all the things he has just said in your mind.

“You’ve got this, I didn’t raised you to be a whimp” He looked at you with severe eyes. “You didn’t raised me” you said at him, “It’s part of the pep talk, go along with it” he said back and send you  to the lockers rooms.

“I’ve got this, It’s gonna be ok, I’ve got this, It’s gonna be ok, I’ve got this, It’s gonna be ok” you kept repeating yourself to feel less nervous and sighed man, it’s gonna be a long way back home.

[fairytellerxo]

Absolution CH 2: Prospect

“Vette,” Gabriella passed the cigarette to her friend and smirked. “The fine ass prospect is now in charge of protecting me.”

Yvette shook her head before taking a drag of the cigarette. “You couldn’t have gotten Coco?”

“Nah,” She waved her friend off. “Look at how fine he is, I need him. I just want to get under his skin and figure out what he’s all about. What makes Ezekiel Reyes tick?”

“I think he’s gay,” Yvette shrugged. “Never hear about him messing around with the hang arounds.”

Gabriella pulled her hair into a top knot and rolled her eyes. “He’s not gay. I guess he’s just still in love with Emily, you know, Miguel’s wife. Her and EZ were high school sweethearts. Then he fell from grace and ended up in jail.” She sighed. “Don’t know why he ended up in jail.”

“Are we going to homecoming?” She ignored everything Gabriella had said. “I gotta hit up my dad for money for a dress if we are.”

“Yeah, we are.” She huffed. “I got you, you know I don’t mind paying for your dress too. You’re mi hermana, ahora y siempre.”

“I will still ask, maybe whatever money he gives me can buy us a bottle.” Yvette hugged Gabriella tightly. “Love you brat.”

“Love you too,” she hugged her best friend back. “Homecoming game is Thursday, the dance is Saturday. We have lots of things to do, we have to get your dress picked out. I already have the one I want to wear in mind.” She smiled salaciously. “Let’s just ditch, they’re not teaching us anything anyways.”

“I have a question,” Yvette laced her fingers with Gabriella’s. “Why do you call your dad Papa?”

She chuckled. “Honestly? I’m the youngest kid, I was the surprise. So he has grown kids and they had kids and they would call him Papa, so it just stuck. I do call him dad though.” She shrugged. “The woes of being the absolute youngest sibling. It’s woes right? Or is is throes?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s throes, I don’t think you should be skipping school after all.” Yvette laughed and shook her head. “Can’t be pretty and stupid.”

“Pretty stupid.” She whispered to her friend. “I am going to be fine. I’ve got the grades, got the college acceptance for next fall. It’s all good babe, don’t worry about it.”

..

“Papa do you hear me!?” Gabriella walked into the clubhouse. “Where’s my dad?”

“He’s out handling business, what are you doing here?” Riz looked at the brunette. “Don’t you have a curfew?”

She looked at her phone. “It is five in the evening, he said he’d meet me for a movie at four and didn’t show up and I didn’t get a call or a text. So, here I am.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, he’s not here. You can wait around if you want.”

“There was no other option.” She sat down next to him. “Can I get an ice water please?” She looked at the scantily clad woman behind the bar. “So, do you get paid in cash or in cum?”

“You cannot hit her,” Riz looked at the woman. “She’s Taza’s kid, Bishop’s goddaughter. You just gotta serve her and let her smart remarks go.”

“It was a genuine question Uncle Riz, do you pay the women cash or in sex?” She shrugged. “Can I get a bottle of water instead? Thank you.”

“Come on, I got her.” EZ looked down at Gabriella. “Outside, now.”

“Okay,” she grabbed the bottle of water. “I still need an answer.”

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to know that they’re not getting paid cash.” He followed after her. “They just want to be Old Ladies.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Just imagine having such low self esteem that you serve drinks and sleep with men in hopes of them locking you down as their Old Lady? That’s sort of sad. There’s only like four of you that would be a good choice, maybe five. You, Gilly, Creeper, Chuy, the new one who’s name I can’t remember at the moment oh and maybe Coco if he’d look a little less creepy.”

“That’s about six, why not Angel?” EZ laughed. “Most women like him.”

“He’s so sensitive and impulsive.” She shrugged. “I think I’m a bad situation he would kind of shut down and maybe fuck it up for everyone else. Same with you but you have this redeeming quality of looking at things from all sides.”

“And you gathered all of this from just hanging around here with us?” EZ looked at her. “You’re barely around.”

“And when I am around, I observe and listen.” She smiled. “Plus you got some crazy photographic memory thing, I need to learn it. It’ll help me in college.”

“Where are you going to college?” He gestured to the picnic table. “USC? UCLA?”

She shook her head as she pulled her keys from her pocket. “Stanford. Got my acceptance letter hanging on the fridge. I half applied because no one besides me and my parents thought I was Stanford material.”

“Smart but trouble,” He smirked at her. “Your negatives tend to always outweigh the positives.”

“Ah, makes so much sense. I kind of get off on everyone underestimating what I can do.” She smiled. “It means when I finally hit my goals, they’re all surprised and shit. My stepdad always underestimates my ability. Thinks I’m gonna end up pregnant by some criminal before I make it to Stanford next fall.”

“You should be doing it for yourself and not anyone else,” EZ nodded. “At the end of the day you gotta do shit that makes you happy.”

“Then what’s your excuse?” She looked at him carefully. “The way you talk and carry yourself, you don’t belong in this world, I think it would be a waste of your mind and potential if you become a full patch.”

“It’s just how life is playing out for me right now,” He smiled. “I think I’ll be good.”

“Are you ready for homecoming this week?” She smiled. “There’s a game and a dance you and Chuy get to play chaperone at.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “But I have no other choice but to prepare myself for it.” He watched as the brunette stood up. “I’ll follow you home and make sure you get there safe.”

“A true Prince Charming,” she laughed. “I used to have to force Chuy to follow and when he did, I enjoyed running from him.” She held up her keys. “Catch me if you can Prospect.”