#last week i mentioned a bad night i had a few weeks before (paranoia stuff) to someone in art class

[not-actually-human]

hmmm

#last week i mentioned a bad night i had a few weeks before (paranoia stuff) to someone in art class #and thry like. immediately started trying to make me more paranoid?? #saying stuff like “oh yeah someone is definitey coming to kill you and you arent real lmao” #and like. i was okay then because it was noon on a wednesday and i was in a good place #but that was. uh. a little fucked up #why did they do that?? i am so confused by people #vent #atlas screams into the abyss

[tangerinesgf]

yooo, could you write for Thom Ryder (or whatever his name is ) someee maybe hurt/comfort stuff. Cause I love your writings!!!,💋🙏

Tom Ryder x GN!reader

Summary: Tom Ryder is an addict. But only the person closest to him knows that.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Some fluff, Paranoia, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

A/N: Yaaayy my first Tom Ryder fic!! Tysm for your request. I'm having so much fun writing for this man. I hope you like it. Also Tom Ryder is British right? Correct me if I'm wrong here pls, his accent was so confusing to me

It was the night after Tom Ryder’s big movie premiere. Or well one of them. Another big blockbuster on his name, another couple million dollars in the bank and like every big occasion in Ryder’s life it called for a party. As his partner you have been to all the premiere's with him. From London to Paris and even Tokyo, all the way back to L.A. You were by his side through it all. The good and the bad. 

Tonight was all good. He just had a busy press tour behind him and was finally ready to unwind. He invited all of his friends and their friends to his house, or as he called it his ‘kingdom’. 

The first few hours you stuck to each other like glue, laughing dancing, ofcours a bit of flirting and kissing too. After a while you told him you were gonna go to the bathroom for a second and after some serious looks that told him that he couldn’t come with you.

When you came back Tom wasn’t in his usual spot anymore, but you didn’t really think anything of it. He was probably outside smoking weed or hanging around with his friends.

At some point during the evering you started to miss your boyfriend and started looking for him across the dancefloor, expecting to find him grinding with some random person he just met.

You’ve come to find his behaviour when high or drunk to be quite predictable. Whenever you found him dancing with another girl he’s quite genuinely confused, saying sorry over and over again, because he thought he was dancing with you. Though you couldn’t entirely blame him for it since he was high off his nuts and completely disoriented. Besides that, he was absolutely adorable while begging for your forgiveness.

Inside that asshole he protrayed himself to be was just an insecure little boy who didn’t get enough validation from his parents. 

So here you were searching his entire loft, shoving people aside left and right to find Ryder, which wasn’t nearly as easy as it appeared to be. His loft was huge with multiple bedrooms, bathrooms and just random rooms filled with whatever crazy thing Tom wanted to try this time.

As his girlfriend you were often at his place, which means you were there last week when he turned one of his rooms into a small makeshift jungle for his new Koala. You gave it 2 weeks max before animal protection would show up at his front door. 

His loft felt like an absolute madhouse everytime he held a party there, the music was deafening and the smell of weed and alcohol hung in the air. You were pretty sure Tom didn’t even know half of the people in his house right now. 

To your surprise he wasn’t shagging up with some random girl, in fact he was nowhere to be found at the party. Usually you’d stick by him during parties like this, especially when there were drugs involved. So when you couldn’t find him with his usual group of friends and he hadn’t come to find you, you knew something was wrong. 

You abandoned the party downstairs and went to find the actor upstairs where the guests weren’t allowed. The bedroom was empty, as was his second bedroom and the room he uses to practice his scenes (that particular room had a huge mirror).

“Tom? Love?” You call out in the hallway as you walk past all his movie posters. Then suddenly you stop in your tracks as you hear a voice coming from the bathroom, it sounds like Tom talking to someone, but there’s no other voice talking back. Like he’s all alone in there. 

Silently you walk over to the bathroom, the last thing you wanted to do was scare him right now. The door was open just a bit as you leaned beside it, looking through the little slit in the door. Tom was pacing the room back and forth like madman. You couldn’t exactly hear what he was saying because most of it came out hastily in a mumble. 

You decided to approach him carefully since you had no real perception of the state he was in right now. Ever so softly you knock on the bathroom door to announce your presence. At the sound Ryder’s head immediately snaps up in your direction, he looks like a deer caught in headlights with those wide eyes.

In a split second he grabs his hairbrush from the shelf above the sink and holds it in front of him like you would a knife. Ofcours you knew he wouldn’t get very far with that, but right now you just wanted to make him feel comfortable so you hold your hands up in the air to show him you mean no harm.

“Tom..” You say softly as you take a step closer to him. The beads of sweat on his forehead become apparent to you as do his frantic eyes which are constantly scanning every part of the room for threats. 

His movements are erratic as he holds the brush out in front of him and you wonder if he even reconizes you as his partner at this moment. “Stay back- I know why you’re here… I know it. Where are your friends, hm?” He raises his eyebrow at you, skeptical of your intentions. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” A frown appears on your face as he starts ranting nonsense. You were well aware of Ryder’s drug problem, but you really hated seeing him like this. The poor guy was really in a miserable state.

It had all started quite innocent, just one joint to take the edge off before a press tour or a premiere, you even did it with him sometimes. Then at parties he started to dance on the edge of safe and dangerous. Taking more and more different kinds of drugs with the excuse of ‘just experimenting’. 

In the last couple of weeks you’ve found him throwing up in the bathroom, pale as a ghost more than once. You’ve tried to offer advice but he never wants to hear it. He’s Tom Ryder. He can do whatever he wants. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You came all the way up here to get me alone, right? So there’d be no witnesses when you kill me.” The brush is shaking in his hands and his words are quick, full of distrust towards you.

You can tell it’s bad this time. You’ve never seen him so paranoide before and it’s seriously concerning. Lately one or two hits just aren’t enough for him anymore, it’s like he’s trying to numb himself. From what you wouldn’t know, he’s not exactly open about his flaws and weaknesses. That’s vulnerability and that’s bad. 

“No I’m not-” You step closer, but he cuts you off by throwing the brush in your direction which you just barely manage to dodge. You look at him with wide eyes and before he can grab the bar of soap from the sink to throw that as well you rush over to him to grab his wrists.

“Tom, listen to me- fuck..” You mutter as he struggles against you, trying to push you off him. 

“What do you want from me?!” Ryder shouts desperately. Even after doing all those movies and action scenes he has really no idea how to fight, so most of his attempts to fight you off go nowhere. 

“It’s me, Tom. No one is trying to kill you!” You yell as you finally manage to remove the bar of soap from his hands. You quickly reach your hands up to cup his face. With closed eyes you take some deep breaths to slow down your heart rate. You weren’t exactly sober either, so you took a moment to steady yourself before looking back at him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t understand where the paranoia came from, ofcours you did. Tom Ryder is the most famous actor in the world, everyone who didn’t want to be with him, wanted to be him. Let’s just say that both of you have experienced first hand how far some people are willing to go for celebrities. 

Yet when sober Tom didn’t seem necessarily concerned about it, more annoyed or angry when another fan tried to touch or attack him. And don’t get it wrong, Tom loves the attention and validation, but he doesn’t exactly want those crazies near him.

“Hey, hey look at me, yeah? Look at me.” Your voice is demanding and his eyes immediately snap back towards yours. His sunglasses do a poor job of hiding his wide blown, red eyes. 

“You’re okay.” You gently stroke his cheek with your thumb to try and calm him down like you’ve done countless times before. “You’re okay..” You repeat in a softer tone, a small smile spread across your lips.  

“Baby?” He whispers quietly. His eyes have softened and you can feel the man you love coming back to you. 

“Mhm..” You hum softly. “No one’s going to kill you, I promise.” 

You notice Tom’s eyes starting to water a little as he realizes everything is okay and that you’re with him to keep him safe. He holds his head down in shame.  “I’m sorry..” His voice barely comes out as a whisper as he leans forwards and buries his face in your chest. 

You wrap one arm around him, the other gently stroking his messy blonde hair to comfort him. He’s always had a weak spot for you when you played with his hair. 

“And I’m sorry I tried to hit you with my hairbrush.” He mumbles again.

“I know, love..” You whisper back as you hold him close. Then without warning Tom starts sobbing into your chest, it sounds broken and helpless. Every single thought inside his head just spilt over, unable to keep it in anymore, yet also unable to actually talk about it. 

You pull him into a tight hug, leaning his head on your shoulder as you rub his back. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before and while it felt a little bit weird, it also felt good that he trusted you enough to let himself be vulnerable with you.

For now you'd just hold him, let him air his heart as long as he needs to. You can both work on your issues later. In this moment being in the comfort of each other's arms is enough.

A/N: I'm a firm believer that Tom Ryder swings both ways, but cannot hold a normal stable relationship to save his life. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this and please if you have any Tom Ryder requests send them in.

I don't have a Taglist for Tom Ryder fanfics yet, so if you wanna be on it lemme know.

#tom ryder x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tom ryder #the fall guy #the fall guy fanfiction #fanfiction #aaron johnson #tangerine x reader #fanfics #fanfic writing

[max33imagines]

17. ‘I know you still love me.’ — Max Verstappen X Reader.

Nine days. Nine long lonely days and long lonely nights had passed since you were last with Max. It's no secret that Max has a temper on him, and it's no secret that he's met his match within an argument, but you didn't expect him to throw four years away.

The past few months had been hard on both of you. You had finally gotten a huge promotion at work, you remember when you told Max and how happy he was for you. How happy he was that all of your had work and late stressful evenings had paid off. Despite the fact you had added responsibility, you now also had the flexibility to work from home, Max instantly planning every race weekend you'd get to spend together. It was perfect.

"Babe can you pass me my hat please?"

"Yeah good luck babe." You replied, still frantically trying to send an email back to your boss.

"Thanks, but.. my hat?" Totally ignoring Max this time he leaned over you to grab the hat sitting beside you. Max sighed, continuing to grab his things he needed from his motorhome to get going towards the track.

"Are you planning on putting your laptop down at any point this weekend?" Max spat. You tried to explain how important it was that this particular job was done before the deadline but Max scoffed, shutting you down and saying something about him wasting his time. You put his frustration down to pre race nerves, knowing he had a bad qualifying yesterday and was stuck behind the two Mercedes. You didn't reply to him as you watched Max walk out of his motor home, not forgetting to slam the door behind him.

More responsibility became more work for you. A lot more work. Deadlines, meetings, emails upon emails, your home soon became your office and so did everywhere else you went. Max on the other hand had bad race after bad race. If it wasn't a bad race then it was a bad qualifying, if it wasn't a bad qualifying it was ridiculous questions and accusations when he got to the press. To top it all off, if the weekend went his way, it was a falling out with you. An argument, a disagreement, a falling out.

'Why are you always glued to that laptop?'

'Why are you always glued to that simulator?'

You'd both distanced yourself from each other without really realising it. When you both had a day off, any deadlines, any bad races, it was all forgotten about it was as if whatever had happened within the past week, simply didn't. Always apologising to one another, spending as much time as possible with each other and making up for the time you had missed over the past few days. Your separate jobs were coming between you, and because neither of you were seeing too much of each other while working, Max's jealousy came out in full force, as did your paranoia.

'Who's he?'

'Who's she?'

'Have I met him?

'Have I met her?'

Max would always put you at ease. 'She's just a friend babe.' 'She works around the paddock I can hardly avoid her'. You knew he loved you. He knew he'd never look at another woman the same way he looks at you, and despite his jealousy, he knows you're all his.

Hence why the last argument left you in shock. Work was mentioned, guys were mentioned, girls were mentioned and at the end of it Max threw his hands up.

"I'm done with this shit now."

"You cannot accuse me of that kind of stuff Max to just say you're done." You shouted, following him into the bedroom.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like Y/n? I'm done, I'm going."

"Going where, what are you on about Max? And you say I overreact?" Max continued packing his bag as you co tinged to scream at him, him screaming back at you in response.

"This okay ! Us ! I never see you anymore, you can't be bothered to give me the time of day and I'm done watching you parade around other guys when you won't give me a second look. Enjoy your nice job and whoever it is this week that has caught your eye." You run after him as he heads towards the front door, trying to tell him how ridiculous he's being, trying to defend yourself that there's no one else, there never has been and there never will be.

"We're done." The door slams shut and you're left alone.

You wasn't sad straight away. You were angry. Angry that he left, angry he took it this far, angry he clearly doesn't trust you. You waited up for him, knowing he'll come back once he's calmed down, but you woke up the next morning on the couch still to an empty apartment.

The first day you were sad. You spent the entire day crying, tears of sadness and still of anger that he's thrown about your entire relationship over something that could've been spoken through.

A few days went by and you finally showered and took Max's T-shirt off, throwing it into the wash basket and finally putting on your own clothes.

Day four was when you saw it. Your best friend had warned you not to look, but you asked her to send it. Needing to see it for yourself. You opened the link she had sent you to see Max and the typical girl you were told not to worry about. Is that why? Questions were running through your head and all the answers were in the photo. Max in some club with her. You threw your phone across the room. Your head in your hands and you can't help but thinking where exactly did it all go wrong. Was it the promotion? Was it before then? Was it your fault? Did Max cheat on you? Was he just jealous or going behind your back the whole time, not wanting you to do the same to him. He cheated on you.

Your friend came to stay with you for a few nights, trying to say all the stereotypical things.

'You'll find someone so much better.' You didn't want better, you just want Max.

'You don't deserve to be treated like that.' You can try and fix what you had.'

It was day nine when you started to feel as though your head had began to clear a little bit. You can't get over four years in nine days, you still love Max and fear you always will, but you can't get the thought of him out of your head. Did he really cheat on you? Why? How could he do that to you? Is he thinking about you too?

You tried to keep yourself occupied, trying to take your mind off of him, but all you could do was lay on the sofa watching reruns of whatever show you could find. You were pulled from your thoughts when you jeans the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the front door. Your heart dropped immediately as you began to panic, sitting up and and quickly trying to think of anyone else with keys to your apartment. Your parents? No. Max's parents ? No, and that's be even more awkward than if it were Max. A friend ? No. You walked towards the door, stopping when it opened.

"Y/n." You didn't know what to say. What can you say? Max didn't look great, his eyes were red, puffy and tired looking. His hair was a mess and he was just wearing sweatpants and a t shirt. Max looked awful, but you didn't look much better.

"We need to talk, I mean uh, can we talk? Should I have knocked ? I don't really know what to do." Stumbling his words he began looking around, not wanting to look at you but also having no where else to look.

"This is your apartment as much as it is mine." You mumbled as you walked towards the couch, Max took this as an invitation to follow you, watching as you turned the TV off and quickly moved some things around to make the apartment look somewhat neater than the mess it was.

"Listen, I- well I- I suppose I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Y/n." He began. He was a mess. Just like you. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you looked back at the man now sat next to you.

"You walked out on me. Literally." You took a deep breath, not trusting your voice with elaborating.

"I know I did and I feel horrible. It's been nine days without you and they've been hell, I was having a shit time racing and I felt like I was having a shit time here, I just wanted out. But I've just made things worse-"

"Wait, wait, wait. So you were having a shit time with me so you break up with me, go out with you're friends, have a good few nights and now.. you're back?" Your tone was cold, sharp almost and Max was taken aback.

"What?"

"I've seen the pictures." You pulled up the article on your phone showing it to Max. He always told you not to believe everything you read and it's true. Over four years you saw first hand how the media twisted things, but this was different. Max saw the photo and it as if you could see his heart sinking.

"Y/n, it's not what it looks like." That typical line. You rolled your eyes as you laughed a little bit, excited to hear what he was going to come up with.

"I've been miserable, I know how it looks. I know it looks like I've left you to go out with her without any repercussions but it wasn't like that. Some of the guys thought I needed some sort of a pick me up and came up with the idea of going out-"

"Did you sleep with her?"

"Fuck Y/n! No! Of course I didn't fucking sleep with her !" Neither of you were shouting at each other with made a change. You could see Max was hurting, he was frustrated and looked almost desperate to be heard and understood.

You on the other hand was simply heartbroken. Upset and the anger you've felt over the past few days was lingering as he continued.

"I was mad at first. Mad that all you'd do is call that John guy, email John, talk about this fucking John guy and wouldn't pay attention to how I was. I didn't even make the podium Y/n and all you could say was you were busy emailing fucking John!" Max's frustration from nine days ago came back. John was your boss, he was only a few years older than you. Max accused you of sleeping around with him, which was comical considering he was happily married with a son, but Max didn't let you get that far.

"He's my boss Max. I have to speak to him." You said bluntly. Max still looking at you in desperation as he leans slightly forward, closer to you.

"I got jealous okay. Jealous you'd talk to him all the time. I spent three days in a hotel room mad at you, mad at myself too. The fourth day I was just upset, thinking about you, and him and, fuck! It got the better of me. I hated it Y/n. Just the thought of it. The guys came to see me and somehow convinced me to go out, I didn't know she'd be there I swear. We went to a club and after a few drinks I didn't feel sad or angry anymore, I didn't really feel anything. Then she showed up and decided to join us with some of her friends and we got talking, she asked how you were and I told her we were over, I don't know why I told her that. I guess we were, well are, but I don't want this to end Y/n-"

"What else happened?" You asked, ignoring the end of his sentence. Max paused for a moment, sitting back as he looked down to his hands.

"I'd had a drink, I was with the guys and I thought I'd lost you. You didn't even call me Y/n. No call, no text-"

"What else happened?" You said again, he didn't talk to you either. Where was he going with this.

"I was with her, we were talking and we kissed. She thought it'd be a good idea to go back to my hotel so we did." You stayed silent, Max shattering your heart with every word.

"We got back to my room, but I couldn't do it Y/n. All I could think about was you, I pushed her off of me and told her to leave and she did."

"So you went out, was with her all night, took her back to your hotel to sleep with her but backed out at the last second? The girl that was always 'just a friend?' She's the person you went running to !? I can't believe this." You stood up and walked to the kitchen pouring yourself some water as you tried to wrap your head around what you've heard. You heard Max come behind you but you continued to have your back facing him.

"That was day four, right? So if you were so upset why did it take you another five to come back?"

"I needed time Y/n."

"What, to work out if you wanted me or her?" You spat as you turned around to face him.

"No Y/n, fuck! To think about what's best for me and she was never in those thoughts. Just you. I got in my head so much about you and your boss that it kept me away, today I guess I had to just come here and find out what we are now.."

"We're broken up."

"Please give me another chance Y/n, listen, I was wrong okay. I was wrong to let jealousy overtake me, I was wrong to not just speak to you about what was going on in my head.-"

"You were wrong to kiss her." You added.

"John is my boss. That it. Line drawn. How many times have I asked you about her? How many times have you told me to stop being paranoid ? That she's just a friend. That you love me?"

"- I do love you. Y/n, fuck you know I do, and I know you still love me."

"These nine days have been horrible for me too Max. You've hurt me so bad, giving up on us so quickly and easily. I've hardly eaten, I've hardly slept, I haven't left this apartment once because you've broken me Max. Of course I'm still in love with you." Max's eyes lit up as they met yours. You could see a sigh of relief as he walked closer towards you.

"But the difference is when I was sat here heartbroken, I didn't go out and nearly fuck John. I can't trust you Max. I can't trust that you're not going to leave again, or you're not going to get mad and kiss someone else again." It was your turn to break Max as bad as he broke you. You wasn't saying anything to hurt him intentionally, just the truth.

"Please give me another chance Y/n, I can't do this without you. I'm so fucking sorry, I can change, I'm never going anywhere again, I've seen what it's like and I fucking hate it, I'm here now aren't I? I'm fighting for you, I'm fighting for us."

"Then you need to fight harder."

***********************

Part 2

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #mv33

[sir-subpar]

Where have you been? (1)

*This takes place in the Cursed!Bf au. This is pretty focused on Pico's point of view. Not a lot of shipping in this chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing this. This will be a 2-parter. Btw, swear words.*

Pico had challenged Boyfriend to another rap battle for fun and awaited his arrival. He was late, but they did plan to meet up at 5:00 pm so Pico figured it was just rush hour traffic holding him up. So he waited patiently. Minutes turned to hours, and the sun had set below the horizon. Pico tried to text him, but got no response. This was bullshit. He waited for hours like a fool and now B was ghosting him? If he didn't want to rap why didn't he just cancel? 

Pico grit his teeth in frustration as he got into his car. He began driving to Boyfriend's and Girlfriend's house. His grip on the steering wheel was unnecessarily tight. Sure, maybe he was overreacting a little. It was just a rap battle, but it angered him that B had wasted his time. He could have done something to let him know that they had to cancel. So in the moment, telling him off just sounded cathartic. He muttered random obscenities under his breath, as if reciting how he was gonna tell him off.

By the time he had reached the house Bf and Gf shared together it was dark out, some stars had started making their mark on the blackened sky. Pico could see the living room light was on. Good, they were home. Pico slammed the car's door, then walked up the little path to the house's front door. He knocked on the door and waited. He tapped his foot impatiently. He had spent his whole afternoon waiting for this guy to show up so the idea of waiting any longer annoyed the hell out of him.

 He could hear the door being unlocked and was about to start his angry rant when he saw it was Girlfriend at the door. The look on her face was odd, she looked surprised and… worried? That seemed off to Pico, as she usually opened the door with more enthusiasm no matter who was there. She was wearing a red crop top and black sweatpants, her comfy clothes.

 "... Pico? What are you doing here?" She asked, her tone came off as nervous. "I just wanna ask Boyfriend something." He decided not to yell at Girlfriend, she wasn't the one he was pissed at anyway. "Oh… He isn't with you? He doesn't… live here anymore." 

Just like that, all the anger built up in Pico had just fizzled. Replaced with confusion and shock. And a little bit of worry. "Why doesn't he live here??" Pico asked, what was going on? "Bf and I… we broke up. He left a few weeks ago and I haven't seen him since." She seemed nervous, she avoided making eye contact as she spoke. She left fidgeting with her hair, a nervous habit of hers. 

"So you don't know where he is, huh?" Pico asked, he too, started feeling nervous. 

"I haven't seen him since we broke up. He left most of his stuff here too. Even his phone. I figured he had run off to stay with you but I guess that's not the case." Girlfriend continued. Pico's worry only grew from there. He put his hands in his pockets and awkwardly continued their conversation. "How long has this been going on? Like, when was the last time you saw him?"  Pico had to know. How long had he been out of the loop here? Girlfriend looked him in the eyes, almost shamefully. "Two weeks." 

Pico couldn't help but be shocked by this. "Do you know anyone else he might have talked to? Anyone he might be staying with right now?" Anyone who would know where he is? That was what he really wanted to know. Where could he have gone? Girlfriend shook her head. "No, I don't know who he'd go to other than you. Most people we know don't really like him that much as far as I know." Pico couldn't help but grow more worried. This just wasn't like B… was he in trouble? "Well.. I'm gonna try to find out where he is. You wanna help?" Pico gestured towards his car, thinking they could ask around. Girlfriend averted her gaze, once again avoiding eye contact. "I'm pretty sure I'm the last person he wants to see.." 

Pico couldn't argue with that. Hell, when he and Bf broke up they still kept in contact to some degree. Boyfriend completely ghosting someone was rare, so he must've really wanted to avoid her. "Yeah… I guess that makes sense. Uh, have a good night." Pico and Girlfriend shared goodbyes and went their separate ways. Pico never liked being alone with her, to be honest. It was always awkward, now it was made worse with Boyfriend being who knows where. Pico drove off in his car, contemplating what he should do. 'Maybe I should just call some of B's friends. He might just be staying at one of their places.' He thought to himself. 

Pico had to think about who Boyfriend trusted the most (not counting himself or Gf in this case). He started thinking of people B had introduced him to. 'I have Hex's number, he's friendly, maybe Bf talked to him? It's worth a shot.' Pico scrolled through his contacts until he found Hex's number. The phone dialed for a few seconds, then he heard a robotic voice greet him. "Hello friend!" Hex exclaimed, enthusiastic as always. Pico wasn't really sure if he'd consider himself as Hex's 'friend' per say, but he never disliked the guy. 

"Hey Hex, it's Pico." 

"Greetings Pico! Haven't heard from you in a while! How are you?" 

"I'm alright, thanks. I actually need to ask you something. Could you help me with something?"

"You sound worried. How can I help?"

"I know this might sound random but… is Boyfriend staying with you by chance?" Pico nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He hoped that by some chance that maybe Hex knew something.

"No, why?" Just like that, Pico's hope was dashed. Despite that, he decided to fill Hex in on the situation. Maybe having another person looking out for B would help their chances of finding him.

"Well, he and Girlfriend split up 2 weeks ago and he just kinda… disappeared. I've tried to reach out to him but he's not responding. Gf said she has no idea where he is."

" I'm sorry, I don't know any more than you do."

 Pico let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'm worried about him. Hey, if you see him, will you let me know?" 

"I will."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Pico was about to hang up the phone when Hex said one last thing. 

"Actually, my friend Whitty sometimes hangs out with Boyfriend. I'll call and ask him if he knows where Boyfriend is." Hex sounded hopeful, which made Pico feel a little better. "Thanks, Hex. Let me know what he says."

"Will do! Bye for now!" 

"Bye."

Pico hung up. Deciding to drive home for the time being. He couldn't help but suddenly wonder though… who was Whitty? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall meeting someone named Whitty. Maybe Bf had mentioned the guy to Pico before. Regardless, if this guy knew anything about Bf, he'd take it. 

Pico got home and felt exhausted. He kicked his shoes off at the front door, and dragged his feet as he walked towards his bedroom. He changed into some pajamas and started preparing to sleep. Part of him wanted to stay up and wait to hear back from Hex, but he was tired, and he needed to rest. He'd continue his search after getting some sleep, he decided. Pico pulled his bedsheets over his body, closed his eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep. 

…

Pico got up the next morning at around 7:30 am. He got dressed, brushed his hair and teeth, all that usual morning routine stuff. Then, just as he was about to start calling more people to see if they knew anything about Bf, he got a call from Hex.

"Hello? Hex?"

"Pico!" Hex yelled, sounding excited. "I have good news!" Now Pico was beginning to feel excited. "I talked to my friend Whitty. He said he saw Bf a few days ago!" 

"Does he know where B is now?" Pico was nervously fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. He wasn't entirely sure why, but ever since his conversation with Girlfriend, he just had a gut feeling that something was wrong. He hoped it was just paranoia. "Does he know where Bf is now?" Pico asked. 'Please say yes.' He pleaded in his mind. "Hang on, let me ask him." Hex replied, then his voice sounded distant. He was talking to someone in person, their conversation muffled. "He said no, but he saw Bf in the same general area a few times last week. Maybe all three of us should go there and look for him together! Like a search party!" Hex sounded hopeful, and honestly it wasn't a bad idea. Pico took a deep breath. This was a good thing, this narrowed the search a bit. Pico reminded himself. "Okay, let's do it." He said, feeling determined. "I'll send you the address so we can meet up. See you there!" Hex proclaimed. "Thanks, I'll be there." Pico hung up, then rushed to get his keys, his gun, and other supplies then got in his car. Hex, as promised, sent him the address. Pico entered it into his phone's navigation system and drove there. It was in an oddly run-down neighborhood, with rundown buildings and dark alleys. He wondered what Bf would be doing there. He honestly didn't like the idea of parking his car in this neighborhood, do you worried that it would get stolen or broken into. So he parkes a little ways away, and walked the rest. It was for the best. 

He walked to their agreed meet up spot. The sidewalk was in poor condition, as well as most of the buildings around him. Cracked and discolored walls, boarded up windows, shattered glass and trash was all over the place. The street alone looked as though the city gave up on it. This whole place was run down. Even one of the street lamps was knocked over, luckily it was the morning so it didn't matter. 

Pico could see Hex's monitor head and basketball jersey from a distance. Said robot noticed him and waved to him. He saw someone else there with him, presumably Whitty. Upon closer inspection, Pico noticed a few things about Whitty. The first being that he was fucking tall as hell! Pico knew that he was short in comparison to most people but even so, this dude was TALL. Pico standing at his full height wasn't even half this guy's size. He had to be close to 9 feet tall. The next thing he noticed was the fact that his head was a bomb. His eyes were orange and glowed. Pico couldn't help but stare at the guy. When did Bf come into contact with this guy? How did they meet?

"Hey." Said the tall bomb-headed man. Pico flinched slightly, realizing he must have noticed him staring. His voice was kind of gruff, but not the usual kind of gruff. It reminded Pico of an electric guitar for some reason. Though he figured it probably was best not to say that out loud. Pico snapped out of his thoughts and finally replied. "Hey, I'm Pico. I'm guessing you're Whitty?" Pico held out his hand to shake Whitty's, the taller man returned the gesture. "Yeah, that's me." When their hands touched, Pico was surprised by how warm Whitty's hand was. It was definitely hotter than his own human hand. Not to mention how smooth his skin was, it felt somewhat like metal, but not quite. He kind of wanted to keep holding it just so he could examine it more, but he figured that would be weird to do to a guy he just met. So he let go.

 "So… you saw Bf around here?" Pico asked, and decided it was time to start their search. "We crossed paths a few times but every time he ran away. He seemed… upset." Whitty explained, somewhat trailing off towards the end of his sentence. He too, seemed like he was worried about Boyfriend. Pico wondered how close they were. "Can you show us where you last saw him?" Hex asked, a question mark appearing on his screen. Whitty nodded "Yeah, follow me." He turned on his heels and began walking in front of them. He seemed confident, like he knew the area well. Pico and Hex quickly followed.

 It was mostly quiet between them, Hex played some simple tune to break the silence. Something Pico appreciated. He felt a little awkward, he didn't know anything about Whitty, but apparently he was a friend of Bf's. He quickened his pace a bit so he could walk next to Whitty, he decided to break the silence between them. "So… how'd you meet Bf?" Whitty looked at Pico with an unreadable expression. "He challenged me to a rap battle." Pico chuckled at Whitty's answer and replied jokingly with "Ah, so the same way he meets everyone." Whitty chuckled. "Yeah, pretty much." He could hear Hex laugh a bit too. It really was the way he met most people. "So, how long have you known each other?" Pico asked. "Hmm… I think months now, almost a year. What about you? You two seem close." Whitty looked at Pico quizzically. Pico rubbed the back of his neck "Aw geez, a really long time. Since we were kids." Whitty's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. So you're really close then huh? That explains a lot actually."  Pico tilted his head in curiosity. What did he mean by that? "Yeah? Like what?"  Whitty shrugged. "I dunno… B talks about you sometimes. He told me several times that I should meet you. Said he thought we'd get along." Whitty chuckled. "He always looked so happy when he talked about you.." 

Pico couldn't help but feel flattered, but he also felt a little jealous. Bf told Whitty so much, he trusted him. He knew He longer than Whitty did, yet Bf apparently didn't trust him enough to tell him about his and Gf's breakup. Pico tried to ignore those thoughts. Bf, wherever he was, needed him. It wasn't time to be bitter. "Wish we could've met under better circumstances." Pico muttered, Whitty nodded. "Yeah."

Hex then decided to interject their conversation. "Hey Whitty, are we close to where you last saw Boyfriend?" The robot asked suddenly, startling Pico. For a second, he actually forgot the robot was there. 'Oh yeah.. We've been walking for a little while now.' Pico realized that he had lost track of where they were. "Yeah, sorry. It's just around this next corner, we're almost there." Whitty instructed. "Ok!" Hex replied. Pico nodded, observing their surroundings. This part of the neighborhood was… odd. It didn't seem quite as old as the rest of this beaten-down area. It seemed more… recently abandoned. The buildings, though still a mess, seemed more modern in comparison. Like at some point, this was a nice neighborhood, possibly even upper class at one point. 

The trio turned right at the faded crosswalk, about three buildings down the street, they stopped. Whitty turned to face Pico and Hex. "This is where I last saw him. I tried to talk to him but he ran off and I lost track of him." Pico looked at the rundown building they were in front of. Unlike the other buildings in the area, it didn't seem that old. What surprised him though, was the obvious damage. It looked like the building caught fire at some point. The windows looked like they were shattered from the inside. Pico looked through them, he could see the remains of what appeared to be a restaurant. Broken and burned tables, shattered plates and collapsed support beams were all over the place. He could see the remains of broken speakers towards the back of the dining room, close to what was probably a bathroom. Pico took a few steps back and tried to read what was left of the restaurant's sign. Then it clicked.

 He had heard of this place, about a year ago it was on the news because some lunatic blew up the place in the middle of a rap battle. He remembered seeing Boyfriend and Girlfriend escaping the smoldering wreckage on the news. He called them as soon as he saw it and let them stay at his house that night to comfort them. He could vividly remember the look on Girlfriend's face when they watched the aftermath on the news. Complete and utter terror. He had never seen her more scared in his life. Apparently the arsonist was never caught, for some reason. Pico never understood that. It was a restaurant full of people, surely somebody would have seen where he went, right? The thought made Pico uneasy. Why would B come anywhere near this place after that?

"Yo, Pico. You listening?" Whitty's voice suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts. He wondered how long he was zoning out for. "Sorry I- I just got lost in thought. What were you saying?" Pico felt bad. He was supposed to be looking for his missing friend, not zoning out. Pico mentally chastised himself for it before focusing on Whitty again. "I don't know where he went from here, but I don't think he left this side of town." Pico nodded, then looked up at Hex, his monitor was processing something. Pico guessed he was thinking up a plan. Then the monitor showed a map. "Maybe we should split up into different areas" the robot started, his now map that was once his face highlighted three different areas in the neighborhood. "After each of us surveys their area we can check in with each other over the phone." Hex offered. Pico, though he appreciated the thought, didn't really like the idea of the three of them splitting up in a neighborhood like this. Sure, he could take care of himself. Hell, he was an assassin for fucks sake. But even he knew he wasn't invincible. He was vulnerable. Especially in an area he wasn't familiar with. Before he could politely object though, Whitty commented on the plan. "Sorry Hex, that's a no go. This place ain't a good area. If we split, we could get ambushed." Pico was relieved that Whitty agreed with him. "If there were more of us, then we could split up into teams. But it's just too risky to do as is." Pico added, making his stance on the situation known. Hex sighed (or at least did the robot equivalent of sighing), his arms dropped and his now disappointed face appeared on the monitor's screen again. "Ok… this is far less efficient though." Hex replied, defeated. Pico gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "We appreciate the thought, Hex." Pico said, hoping it would appease the mechanical man. Hex smiled and let it go. "Where should we start looking?" Hex asked the group. Pico couldn't help but eye the burnt restaurant. "Let's check in here first." Whitty and Hex both looked at Pico quizzically, but shrugged it off and agreed. 

Pico attempted to open the front doors, but they wouldn't give, the restaurant's double doors were stuck shut. Pico was about to slam into it when he was stopped by a large hand. Slightly startled, he realized it was Whitty who lightly grabbed him. The bomb man gently moved Pico away from the door."I got it." Was all he said before he gripped one of the door's handles and yanked the whole door off its hinges. Wood splinters flew everywhere as the door cracked and broke.  Whitty tossed the door aside with one arm. Pico's jaw almost dropped. 'Holy shit. Either that door was weak or he's strong as hell!' Pico was tempted to comment on it but didn't want to come across as rude so all he did was thank Whitty. Hex on the other hand clapped his metallic claw hands, the metal making numerous "ting" sounds. "Great job Whitty!" Hex exclaimed before walking through the now open doorway. Whitty rubbed the back of his head, seeming a little embarrassed. Pico noticed Whitty's cheeks were slightly glowing orange. Was that how he blushed? "Err.. Thanks. It's nothing." Whitty had to lean down in order to fit through the doorway, Pico walked in after him. 

The three of them spread out a bit to investigate the remains of the restaurant. Pico honestly thought it was depressing to look at. This had once been a peaceful place to take your loved ones to and enjoy food. Now it was just a husk of its former glory. An ashy, decrepit ruin. After a few minutes, they found nothing and decided to leave. Pico felt bad for wasting time in this old building, but he was glad the others were still willing to help. The trio decided to keep looking around the neighborhood, continuing their search for Boyfriend.

…

Hours. They had been searching for hours, and there was still no sign of Boyfriend anywhere. Pico felt his legs getting sore. He hadn't walked so much without stopping in a long time. Hex seemed unfazed, but maybe that was because robots couldn't get sore muscles. Whitty seemed a little tired, but didn't show signs of really slowing down. Pico really wanted to just power through it and be helpful, but his legs were in agony. He needed to sit down. It didn't help that it was past noon and he hadn't eaten much that day. "Hey guys. I need to sit down for a bit, my legs are killing me." Pico admitted, hopong the others would be cool about it. "Okay, let's take a break. We've been doing this all day." Whitty agreed. Hex noticed a bench in the distance. "Why don't you rest over there?" The robot offered, and the other boys agreed. The bench was a bit tall, Pico had to hop on to it. Whitty on the other hand had no such trouble, being the vertically-blessed giant he was. Pico was a little jealous. Pico let out a sigh. "Where the hell is that blue-haired dumbass?" Pico asked rhetorically, he was getting frustrated with this. He was worried, tired, and felt lost. He thought he knew Bf well, but he didn't know him well enough to predict this. "I wish I knew." Whitty added, sounding worried as well. Pico was thinking about what to say when his stomach growled loudly. 

"Hungry, huh?" Whitty chuckled. "Fuck yes, I'm starving." Pico replied. "You know what? I'm gonna get lunch. You hungry?" Pico asked, standing up despite his legs begging him not to. "I'm always hungry, sure." Whitty chuckled again. "I'm never hungry!" Hex happily chirped. That time Pico chuckled. "Well, you could still come with us, even if you don't eat anything." Pico offered. "Thank you friend!" Hex smiled. "Cool." Pico gave a thumbs up. "So… where are we going?" Whitty asked, tilting his head a bit. He stood up, ready to follow Pico. "First to my car. Then I'll drive us to a restaurant or something." Pico explained, beginning to walk towards said vehicle. "Just a heads up, I parked a bit far, but it should only take, like, 20 minutes to get there." Pico warned, knowing the others (or at least Whitty) were tired as well. "No problem friend! Lead the way!" Hex declared enthusiastically. Whitty just shrugged and said "We've been walking for hours, 's not like 20 minutes will kill us." And just like that, they were off.

…

Pico, as promised, drove the three of them to a small diner that wasn't too far away. It was thankfully in a nicer neighborhood. The three sat together at a booth table near the back. Hex had powered off to regain some energy. More or less leaving Whitty and Pico alone.

 "Hey, lunch is on me, k?" Pico stated. He had been paid generously on his last job, so he wasn't worried about meal prices. Whitty seemed caught off guard. "Uh, y-you don't have to do that-" "I insist." Pico bluntly interjected. Whitty again, tried to decline. "I shouldn't- you don't need to do that, really." Whitty stammered a bit. Pico doubled down on it. "I'm not budging on this man." Whitty tilted his head to the side curiously, but still seemed slightly flustered. "Why are you so persistent in paying for both of us?" Whitty asked. Pico shrugged. "I just want to thank you for all your help today. I've been stressed out trying to figure out where B is and I really appreciate you helping us out." Pico said earnestly, he was still really worried about Boyfriend. "I.. You're welcome. I'm not gonna lie, I care about him, and I'm worried for the guy. Last time I saw him, he seemed off." Whitty confessed, rubbing the back of his head. Pico's curiosity piqued a bit. "Off? In what wa-" ''Hello boys! Can I get you something to drink?" Pico was suddenly interrupted by their waitress.  "Oh. Right. We should probably order something haha." Pico joked, chuckling a bit. "I'll take a Coke. What about you Whitty?" Pico asked, gesturing towards the taller male. "I'd just like water, please." Whitty replied, the waitress wrote their drink orders. "Okay. Are you ready to order your meals as well?" She asked sweetly. "I think we need a few minutes." Admitted Pico. "Okay, I'll give you some time to think about it and will be back with your drinks in a bit, okay?" Whitty and Pico politely thanked her and looked at their menus. 

"What're you thinking of ordering?" Pico asked, he wondered what kind of food Whitty enjoyed. "I don't know. I'm still surprised that you're paying for both of us." Whitty responded unsurely. "It's all good man. I got it" Pico gave a reassuring smile. "I just want to warn you that I eat a LOT. I'm not exactly cheap to feed." Whitty warned, embarrassed. Pico chuckled, "I'm not exactly peckish, either." "I really mean it, Pico. I eat more than humans do." Whitty once again gave a disclaimer to Pico. "And I really mean it when I say I'll cover it. Just get what you want." Pico stated adamantly. 

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"..."

"..." 

"Are you sure?"

"Whitty if you ask me that again I'm gonna smack the shit out of you."

(To be continued…)

(I wanted to write more but this is long so I'm gonna break it into two chapters. The next one is gonna have more angst so I wanted to end this one on a bit of a lighter note

#fnf #friday night funkin #cursed! bf au #cursed!bf #fnf pico #fnf whitty #fnf hex #fnf girlfriend #fnf boyfriend #bombico #bf x pico #pico x whitty #if you squint #fanfic #two shot #where have you been?

[narrators-journal]

Return to sender

CW: I’m bad at writing pregnancy stuff,

first part: here

previous part: here

Before you knew it, you'd been on your own for almost four months. God, it's been so long. You thought with a bit of fear as you drove home from the store in the swiftly waning light of evening, glancing at the passengers seat where bags of all of the supplies you had looked up for having a home birth. Which wasn't going to be fun, but going to a hospital meant paperwork and being kept in one place for an unknown amount of time, easily trackable, not to mention the hospital birth records would be perfectly accessible to the Zoldycks, meaning they could track down your baby. So, you were just going to bite the bullet and do it yourself. On the bright side, I have about 2 months to prepare and learn, so things will go great. You told yourself, sending a quick prayer to any god listening that you didn't face any complications, because you'd only gone to one doctor's appointment for the baby, and while it didn't show any bad omens for the birth, that had been ages ago, so you weren't really sure of how healthy your baby currently was. Though, some of that anxiety was more-so from the small changes you'd begun to notice in these last few weeks. It wasn't anything major, mostly cramping, more backpain, and exhaustion, but good ol' google had told you these may be signs of pregnancy. Hence the evening trip to the store for all of the things you lacked at home for a home birth. You hoped you were just being overly cautious, but you couldn't be too sure. Despite that though, you did your best to stay positive and just went about collecting your shopping as carefully as you could and waddling up to your nasty little apartment. You were pretty happy at the bottom of the stairs, on edge, as always when the place you lived had so many sketchy people that their aura seemed as engrained in the carpet as the mystery stains on your bedroom floor, but your mood instantly fell when you got to the top of the stairs. You stood there, heart racing, (e/c) eyes wide and frantically searching for any reason as to why you were suddenly so nervous. After all, you'd worked through this level of anxiety in your first month there, you should have a better handle on it than this, but then it clicked. It's too quiet. You realized, putting a hand on the banister to steady yourself as the dread hit you. Your apartment building was still bustling with noise, from neighbors having sex loudly, to someone's kids getting into a shrieking match, those noises were pretty mundane to you now, but something still felt too calm. Like that moment in movies right before the murderer attacks. Calm down, everything's fine. You told yourself, taking a deep breath or two to try and wait for the wave of paranoia to ebb. One of the neighbors probably just has some sort of guest over. Or maybe some strong nen user passed by, I'm sure it has a reasonable explanation. You continued to reassure yourself, but the feeling didn't pass. Some voice inside of you just kept screaming about something being way too off, maybe it was your survival instincts, maybe it was simply your paranoia acting up, either way you decided to trust your gut. So, you compromised with yourself. You gathered your bags and unlocked your apartment to place them in, ensuring they'd be safe when you returned tomorrow, than you made your way back down to the foyer as swiftly as you could manage while heavily pregnant.

         "Are you alright, miss?" A man suddenly asked, making you yelp, but when you looked over, it was just some dark haired man with a cross-shaped tattoo of sorts on his forehead sitting at the guard's seat. You'd never seen him before, but you tried your best to not be impolite. At worst, he was some sort of spy for Illumi, but if he wasn't and he was just one of the many sketchy guards that worked for the apartment building, you still didn't want to offend him. So, you laughed a bit, clasping your hands over your stomach to hide how badly you were shaking,         "Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized I'd forgotten something in my car, don't want it stolen." you said in a shakey but kind voice, which made the man snort a bit,        "Would you like me to go out there for it? I promise not to steal anything," he offered, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief while he was oddly amused by his own words, but you shook your head, brushing any stray strands of (h/l), (h/c) hair from your face as you spoke,         "No thank you, but I a-appreciate your offer." with that, you made a beeline for the door, swiftly stepping outside and taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. All at once, your anxiety began to wane, which you were immensely thankful for. Slowly, you let out a breath and waddled over to your car, ignoring the pinching cramping sensation that had plagued you for about a week now and just deciding to sit outside in your car for a while and maybe sleep there for the night since the upstairs of your building felt so weird. However, when you got to the vehicle, you pulled at the handle and nothing happened. When you tried a second time, the same thing happened, the door didn't budge. To make thing worse, you couldn't seem to find your keys when you checked your pockets.          "Of course, it'd be just my luck that I'd lose my damned keys and lock myself out of my car." you muttered, leaning against the car and resting your head against the window, trying your best to think up a second alternative to going back inside when you heard it. The single voice you wanted to never hear again,        "I must admit, you're a lot more resilient than I first thought." Illumi hummed, and before you could even think to react, he trapped you against the car, slamming his hands into the window so hard you heard it begin to crack. You shrieked and pressed your back against the car, less scared of getting cut on the glass than you were of Illumi, but instead of getting killed with his aura, or manhandled into some unmarked van, or hell, even being yelled at like you'd expected, you simply felt him brush a stray tear you didn't realize you'd shed from your (s/c) cheek, and when he did speak, he was as calm and unreadable as ever,          "You had me highly worried these past few months," he said, pushing himself off of your car and looking you over, keeping one of his hands on you in some fashion the whole time, just in case you tried to bolt or fight him off, but you never did, you'd frozen in a mix of terror, defeat, and a dizzying sense of warped relief that nearly made you nauseous. "Now, you're coming home and we are going to have a nice, calm, talk about your mistake and how you can fix it." he said, grabbing you by the wrist to lead you away. However, when his words finally sunk in, you were filled with another sense of frantic determination, refusing to move as best you could while your (e/c) eyes welled with tears again, though that was more from the pain of Illumi tightening his grip on your poor captive wrist when you resisted.           "No!" It came out a lot more forceful than you expected, "No! I don't want to go back a-and subject any child to whatever torture created you!" Finally, it was your words that earned a pause, and when you looked up to his face you saw a mixture of hurt, annoyance, and a shred of understanding flit across his doll-like facial feature ever so slightly.          "(y/n), you need to calm down. You're growing hysterical and you're going to hurt yourself trying to fight me. Just relax and come home." He ordered, but you shook your head and continued to resist as best you could, which thankfully worked since the assassin didn't want to purposely hurt you         "No! Just let me go, please! K-kill me if you must, but I don't want to go back!" you cried, and in a frantic attempt to get away, you pulled at your wrist as hard as you could, and by sheer luck, actually slipped through Illumi's grip. Sadly, your luck was spent with that last trick, so your attempts to get into the apartment building and maybe get help from the guard were quickly thwarted. Some part of you thought that maybe you could get away from Illumi Zoldyck again, but failed to realize he was a lot faster than you, even if you weren't about-to-burst pregnant. In a hope-crushing flash, he'd grabbed you again, wrapping his arms around your torso to yank you back against him and holding you there with one arm while his free hand captured your wrists to stop you from frantically flailing.             "(y/n), if you do not calm down right now, I will get the doctor to use sedatives on you." he warned, his voice low and dripping with foreboding, which, if you had any fight left in you, washed it away like he had the first day of your escape. However, you'd gone still for another reason.              "I-Illumi, let me go," you squeaked, your heart pounding so hard you didn't think you'd be able to hear his reply,              "Absolutely not." He then tried to lift you up a bit so he could move you, but you wriggled              "No! P-please listen, Illumi!" You plead, "I-I think my water just broke!"

#illumi x reader #sequel #x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #illumi zoldyck #outrunning obessessions #fanfiction #quotev #sequelette

[nikki-writes-stuff]

At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him. 

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here! 

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers x reader #werewolf #werewolf!steve #alpha!steve #omega!reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #werewolf au

[buckyskorpion]

11 Hours - part one

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: um yes so hello another au and another wip..... dont hate the player hate the game. i hope you enjoy this though! this is my take on a biker!bucky au because we definitely dont have enough of those. let me know your thoughts on this, critiques, predictions, anything! my ask is open. also i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask. 

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

You lie on your stomach, sheets pooled by your ankles, and watch Bucky watch you. One hand propping him up on his side, the other tracing slow, hair-raising circles on your bare back. He’s not really seeing you though, eyes glazed over so they look shiny and huge, big enough to get lost in. You roll away from him, off the edge of the bed and onto your feet.

“Going?” he asks, voice rough. You can’t remember the last time one of you spoke - the time between breathless moans and now seems stretched, like a liminal space you’ve both been sitting in for far too long.  It’s time to get back to the real world. You shrug one shoulder, rooting around his bedroom floor for your clothes to redress.

“It’s late,” you say. He huffs an agreement. The two of you didn’t get back to his apartment until after midnight, so who knows the time now.

“Let me call you a cab,” Bucky says, rolling onto his back to pat around the bedside table for his phone. You toss him a look over your shoulder, chosing to ignore him as you pull your skinny jeans up over your ass. Bucky pauses to watch, tongue flicking over his lips and not bothering to hide his grin when you catch him. You throw your jacket at his head which he catches with ease, laughing himself back into the pillows. Ugh, he’s such a menace.

You walk back over to the bed once you get your last shoe on, closing the distance you’d created that was so obvious in the contrast between his bare skin and you, fully dressed. You lean over him, letting him tug you close with a hand on your hip while you pull him up with a grip on his dog-tags. You kiss him, a hard press of lips and a quick swipe of your tongue that he tries to follow but you pull away. He lets you go, rolling his eyes at the tease.

“See ya later, tough guy,” you say, backing up to the door. He tosses your leather jacket back to you, and you catch it with one hand as you head down the hallway. It’s the closest thing you’ll get to a goodbye from him, so you let the front door click shut without another word.

You shrug into your jacket as you race down the stairs of Bucky’s apartment building, heading for the laundry room. It’s not like you know Bucky - all you do is fuck on any day you both happen to be free, starting at a grungy bar in downtown weeks ago and ending here, in some strange friends with benefits situation (minus the ‘friends’ part). He’s hot, and you’re not looking for a relationship, so it’s perfect. Only, something about the scars on Bucky’s knuckles and the motorbike he drives you home on after the bar makes the hair on the back of your neck raise. Something about Bucky is bad news, and you’re not about to get caught up in it just for some (mindblowingly good) sex.

So, you head to the laundry room and climb out the window rather than using the lobby doors. Nobody sees you, and it’s easy to get to if you stand on the dryer in the far right corner. You don’t know why you think someone might be watching Bucky’s apartment, or following you from your late night visits, but your dad always said you were paranoid and it’s never hurt you this far in your life. You swing a leg through the window and drop down into the patchy grass below.

From here you scale the fence into the gym parking lot next door and enter the street that way, nobody the wiser. You stuff your hands in your pockets as you walk down the street, itching for a cigarette or some gum or a pair of earphones, something to keep you company as walk home in the middle of night in New York. There are still people out and about, because of course there are, it’s New York. You make it home without a hitch and immediately head to the shower to wash off the night.

Naked again, before you get under the jet you check your phone. Bucky has texted you - probably a joke or something, his pretence for checking you get home safely. Tough guy my ass, you think as you open the picture he’d sent. He’s holding up the black lace panties you’d been wearing, the one’s he’d pulled off with his teeth and tossed aside without a second thought. Under it, he’s sent another message. Think you forgot something.

Did I really forget them? You try to bite back a grin, because it’s sad to be standing in your bathroom smiling at your phone, but you’re unsuccessful. You watch the three dots under Bucky’s name start and stop, then start again, making your heartbeat pick up. You’d made the oh-so-confident Bucky ‘dont know his last name and don’t need to’ falter. It still gives you a thrill.

Don’t think you’ll be getting them back.

Consider it a present, perv.

You like it

No comment.

You jump in the shower, leaving your phone on the vanity. You can’t leave the shower until you rub one out, the rounds of sex you’d had a mere hour ago long forgotten at the thought of Bucky doing the same thing as you to the panties you’d left behind. Maybe you don’t want to get caught up in whatever shit Bucky is in to set off your paranoia radar, but you certainly want to get caught up in him. If you aren’t already; irreversibly tangled.

***

You never find Bucky, he finds you. Or rather, he gives you a call and you know within a few hours you’ll be at whatever bar or diner he asks you to meet him at, building up the tension until you both can’t take it anymore and go back to his apartment. It doesn’t matter what you say to him, or how many times you say no - you both know you’ll be there.

This time he catches you leaving your dad’s place, pushing through the gate as you put the phone up to your ear. You turn to wave goodbye to your dad in the window he always stands at to see you off towards the subway, and say, “So soon?”

“Hello to you too,” Bucky grumbles, but you know there’s no heat in it. You’re grinning as you dodge pedestrians, tugging your puffer jacket tighter around you with your free hand - the New York winter chill has started to set in and it’s biting through even the hoodie you’re wearing under the jacket.

“Hello, Bucky,” you say, hoping he can pick up on the thick condescension you’re handing him, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I can hang up,” Bucky warns, and you smirk. You’re winning this round, at least.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.” You jog down the subway stairs, hoping your line doesn’t cut out as you move underground. It doesn’t, Bucky’s reluctant laugh filtering clear as day through your phone.

“Baby, huh? Moving onto pet names are we, doll?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ugh, not if they’re from the nineteen forties, no thank you.”

“I’m sure you hate it,” Bucky says, sarcasm heavy. You can hear his eyeroll from here. “What are you doing?”

“Getting on a train,” you say, as you do indeed slip through the almost-closed doors and try to avoid any and all surfaces around you. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” Bucky says, grin audible. It’s your turn to huff now - Bucky never tells you anything about his life, what he’s doing, who he’s with. It’s another thing that makes you think he’s hiding something, but instead of finding it infuriating and a dealbreaker like you should, instead you’re fascinated. Your mission is to figure Bucky out, piece by piece.

There’s a muffled voice on the other line, someone talking to Bucky and you imagine him covering the receiver with one big palm. A hand that you want on you, running down your skin and pressing down over your throat and dipping between-

“You there?” Bucky asks, jolting you out of your daydream. You’re blushing, suddenly too-hot in the layers that were previously not doing enough to ward off the chill.

You clear your throat and say, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, what?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky says, clearly amused. “I said, I’ve got a favour to ask you. Something a bit different.”

“Oh?” It had been weeks of going to dive bars and underground diners, meeting Bucky in dark corners to drink rum and cokes and eventually fuck each other senseless until you’re sure Bucky must get noise complaints. Never had he once indicated he might want to change the routine you’d set up. Never had he asked you for a favour. To say you were intrigued was an understatement.

“Come to a party with me tonight?” he asks. You have to replay his voice in your head to make sure you heard right, stunned into silence. He takes your pause for a ‘no’, hurriedly filling it with, “I get if it’s a no, but my friend Nat is a drill sergeant and she’ll give me the third degree if I don’t bring-“

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you say, interrupting his nervous ramble. You’d never heard Bucky sound anything but aggressively confident before. It’s throwing you for more of a loop than his invitation. A large part of your brain tells you to say no. You don’t trust Bucky, really - you barely know him. But thats why you want to say yes. Going to this party might change that. “I’ll go. What time?”

“Eight tonight,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh. You organise to meet at his apartment, not quite ready to give him your address yet, and hang up. Your mind is reeling, sure everyone on the train must feel the impact of that phone call, too.

They’re all going about their business as if something monumental hasn’t just happened. Bucky has invited you into his life, to meet his friends, as his date. What happened to not-friends with benefits? What if this changes the arrangement you’ve carefully cultivated, so perfect for your independent lifestyle and Bucky’s obvious commitment issues?

The temptation is too much. You practically run home when you get off at your stop, anxious to get ready. You’re about to get a few more pieces of the Bucky puzzle and you have to look good for it.

***

Bucky stops you in the front hall of the house, a hand on your arm as he stares down at you. He looks comically large in the tiny Brooklyn town house, even if it is ten times nicer and more beautiful than your place will ever be. The party filters in from further inside the house, loud music and laughter and the obvious clink of beer bottles sounding muffled through the bubble of you and Bucky.

“My friends are… a lot,” he says, drawing his lip between his teeth. You tilt your head at him, amused by what you can only assume is nerves radiating off Bucky. He rolls his eyes at you, kisses you on the forehead quickly, and adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I can handle myself, tough guy,” you say as he tugs you by the hand through to the living room where the party is in full swing.

“I hope you’re not calling that punk ‘tough’, lady,” a man calls out from the couch, pointing the neck of his beer at Bucky. His tone sounds aggressive but the wide, gap-toothed smile he gives says otherwise. He gets up and pulls Bucky into one of those manly half-hugs. Bucky doesn’t drop your hand as he pats the guy on the back, and you try in vain not to read too much into that.

“Sam, this is (Y/n),” Bucky says, and to your surprise Sam pulls you into a hug as well. You make wide eyes at Bucky over Sam’s shoulder but he just smirks, clearly amused. He’s still holding your hand.

“Nice to meet you!” Sam exclaims, a bit too loud in your ear but you don’t mind. His happiness is infectious. “Come meet Natasha, she’s going to love you.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, letting yourself be led by Sam with an arm over your shoulders to the couch he’d just vacated. Bucky drops his grip but follows too-close behind you, his body heat almost like a physical touch on your back, reminding you he’s there. You wonder if he’s nervous about what you’re going to say to his friends, or what his friends are going to say to you.

“Because,” Sam says cryptically. You roll your eyes - he’s sounds just like Bucky.

Sam stops in front of the redhead woman he was sitting next to when you entered, dropping the arm from your shoulders. She immediately stops her conversation and stands up, giving you a once over with a smirk tucked tight in the corner of your mouth. You try not to feel intimidated but it’s hard - she’s beautiful, and scary, and did you mention beautiful? She shoots an amused look to Bucky over your shoulder, and in response Bucky rests his fingertips on the small of your back. Barely there, but just enough.

“You’ve brought someone, James,” she says, turning her attention back to you and holding a hand out. “Natasha, lovely to meet you.”

“(Y/n),” you say, taking her hand. It’s soft -  you half expected her to break your hand. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, you’re adorable,” she says, and you don’t bother hiding your frown. You don’t like feeling condescended and Natasha seems to be exuding that in palpable waves. Bucky must feel you stiffen because he steps closer, if possible, and slides the hand on your back around to grip your hip.

“Nat,” he says, with warning, and you glance up at Bucky to find him having some kind of silent stare off with Natasha over your head. Eventually he looks back down to you, smiling a bit and squeezing your hip, don’t worry about her. To you, he says, “Let’s go say hi to Steve.”

“See you later, (Y/n),” Nat says, wiggling her fingers in a wave as you follow Bucky to the kitchen. You ignore her, stepping closer to Bucky on instinct as you weave through people packed wall to wall. That was weird, but what did you expect? Bucky did warn you.

Steve turns out to be a giant blonde teddy bear who sweeps Bucky into a hug that lifts him onto his toes. It’s endlessly funny to see huge, muscled, intimidating Bucky being manhandled by a touchy, clearly tipsy behemoth. Bucky doesn’t let it stand for too long, though, bringing Steve into a headlock and sending them both tumbling into the kitchen bench.

“Jerk,” Steve gasps when Bucky lets him go, eyes narrowing. Bucky grins, breathless, and punches him on the shoulder.

“Punk,” he says fondly. You’re mesmerised. You’d wanted to see more of Bucky’s life but you never expected this. It’s like watching him with his family, and it makes something soft and fuzzy swell in your heart which is bad. Very, very bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

Steve finally notices you’re there and you do the normal introductions, watching your hand disappear in his huge one as he shakes it. They’ve all been very welcoming, in their own ways, you notice (bar Natasha, but something tells you she’s always like that). They don’t seem to question your sudden appearance at their party or with their friend, holding Bucky’s hand and being tucked into his side as he passes you a beer and gets to talking about things you have no hope of following. You’re happy just to watch Bucky, smiling and laughing with pointed teeth and crinkles by his eyes. You still don’t really understand why you’re here, but you’re not going to question it. This feels like a stolen moment, something you’re not meant to see and might not see again so you try and commit as much to memory as you can.

The night goes on, talking with Sam and Steve and Natasha who appear to be Bucky’s closest friends and the only ones he bothers making time for. Bucky doesn’t stop touching you the entire time. At first you think it’s nerves, but the more you observe the party around you when the conversation turns to something you can’t contribute to, the more you think it’s for everyone else rather than Bucky’s nerves. You catch a lot of people eyeing his hand on your hip or his arm around your shoulders, or just looking at Bucky in general. Hardly anyone interrupts your little party of five but not for ignoring you - it’s almost like they revolve around you, in tune to the groups’ every movement, but they wouldn’t dare approach. It’s weird. You try not to look too hard into it but your dad is right. You’re paranoid.

Eventually it’s just you and Bucky sitting on a bench outside, a canopy of fairy lights casting shadows from his unfairly long eyelashes as he looks down at your entwined hands in his lap. You tug against his grip, causing him to look up at you and you almost lose your train of thought. Bucky’s eyes are searing blue, the hottest part of the flame.

“You’re being very possessive tonight,” you say, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, cocking his head to the side and you have the distinct feeling you’re being tested.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. You don’t answer straight away. Truth be told, you have no idea what’s going on. You went from fucking Bucky on a semi-regular basis, keeping it at strangers who bone and nothing else, to being glued to his side at a party with his closest friends in what feels like no time at all. Whiplash, is what you feel. You don’t think you hate it, though.

“I never said that,” you tell Bucky, and watch as his face morphs from calculating to that shit-eating, confident smirk you’ve come to know. You’re relieved to see it, the sparkle of his eyes as he leans closer to you in the dark of the garden. This, at least, you know.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says, and you hate how you glow at the compliment when you should be rolling your eyes. “I know I’ve asked a lot.”

“It’s alright Bucky,” you say, smiling at his seriousness. You’d think he’s asked you to commit a crime or something. “Although, I don’t know why you needed me here. I’m glad you did, but…”

“But you thought I only wanted you, to fuck you?” he finishes, kicking his eyebrows up in amusement. You hate the way you blush, ducking your head from him to try and hide it.

“I feel like that was a very logical conclusion,” you say defensively. What else had he given you? You didn’t even know his last name.

He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back up to look at him. He’s smiling soft, not condescending at all, and he moves his hand to cup your cheek in his palm and hold you there, looking at him.

“Maybe this was a test,” he says, licking his lips. Biding time. “To see if I can trust you.”

“Do you?” you ask, eyebrows kicking up.

“Jury’s still out,” he says with a grin, light-hearted, playing it off as a joke but you know from the look in his eyes that he’s being somewhat serious. He looks out at the garden then, still holding you close, and says almost thoughtfully, “My friends like you, though. Even Natasha.”

You scoff at that, and he turns back to you with that crinkly, squishy smile he gave to Steve before. It catches you off guard, enough to not see the kiss before it comes but you catch up as fast as you can. You want to slide into his lap and run your fingers under his shirt, but that’s probably a bit inappropriate in front of a bunch of people you just met. You settle for a frustrated groan against his mouth, biting his lip and tugging so he’s forced to chase you against the back of the bench, crowding your space. He drops your hand to slide his up your thigh, fingertips dangerously close to your crotch, kissing you hard enough to bruise. His tongue in your mouth is scalding, stubble against your skin a delicious burn, and you would’ve gotten lost in it if it weren’t for the very pointed cough from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

It’s Natasha, standing with her arms folded and a smile hidden somewhere in the green of her eyes. You try to mentally will away the flush in your cheeks as Bucky pulls back, hand still on your thigh but turning to glare at Natasha. You find yourself somewhat hiding behind the bulk of his shoulder despite yourself, letting him take the reins.

“Steve is puking,” she reports, raising one eyebrow. “Sam requests your assistance.”

“Fucking ‘course he does,” Bucky grumbles roughly, getting to his feet. Right before he storms away he pauses, leans back down to kiss you again, and then he’s back on a warpath through the house. Other guests part for him like the red sea, and you watch with furrowed eyebrows as they also seem to watch him go. He never goes anywhere without an audience. Perhaps you were right to be paranoid about him.

Natasha is still standing there when you blink yourself back to the garden, watching you with an unreadable expression. You straighten your holey, vintage t-shirt under your leather jacket and stand, not enjoying the power difference with her standing above you. You wish Bucky had taken you with him, even though you didn’t particularly want to watch Steve throw up everywhere. It would be preferable to being stuck under Natasha’s x-ray vision, though.

“I like your boots,” she says. It takes you aback - such a typical girl thing to say at a party to someone you don’t know, and Natasha doesn’t give you ‘typical’. You glance down at your Docs, and then back up at her pretty sundress with a sexy v-cut.  Sure you do, you think sarcastically, as you both stand there like night and day.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, “And again, for inviting me. The party’s been great.”

“Has it?” she asks, and why do you feel like she’s asking three questions at once? As if sensing your apprehension, she smiles and adds, “Just, I know we’re a bit full on and being the new girl at a party is always difficult.”

You blink, surprised once again. The sincerity throws you for a loop, as everything seems to with Natasha. You say, “I mean, yeah, but you guys are great. You all seem really close, it’s- nice. Like  a family.”

Something flashes in Natasha’s eyes, that amused little smirk returning to her face that fills your gut with dread. Was it something you said?

“Come on,” she says, and just as you think you can’t be surprised by this woman anymore, she winds her arm with yours and starts leading you back into the house. Throwing you a conspiratorial look you’re not sure you’ve earned, she says, “Let’s go find the boys. I’m sure Steve’s finished throwing up by now.”

Part Two

~~~~~ please let me know what you think!

#bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader #reader insert fic #biker!bucky #biker au #avengers fic #pov fic #au fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #natasha x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #11 hours

[loversamongus]

Friends, Fevers, Family Movies

a/n: first one shot for @fromthewatertribe‘s 1k follower event! This turned out to be A LOT longer than I expected and it was also originally for a whole other prompt??? And then just??? Evolved into this??? I knew I wanted to write something that featured a Sokka friendship (and a Katara one!) but also feature good ol’ Zuko fluff. So here ya go. Word vomit. TO CELEBRATE NINA BEING AWESOME.

Also important: written as a world without covid, but does mention the flu. prompt: go to bed, you idiot.

words: 2k

relationship: Zuko x reader

Sharing an apartment with your best friends has its highs and lows. On the bright side, you truly lucked out between the epic prank wars, overly competitive game nights, and the bureaucratic division of chore responsibilities. However, there’s also the constant paranoia that someone can jump out of your closet in a gorilla costume, the frustrated search for the last blue Sorry piece after a certain sore loser flipped over the coffee table, and Katara’s insistence on hand washing all dishware even though the kitchen has a perfectly good dishwasher. The three of you never experience a dull moment.

And you’re so grateful to be living with them. Sokka and Katara are your best friends but now it’s like having a brother and sister of your own. Due to the smaller size of the apartment, you and Katara share a bedroom but neither of you would have it any other way. Though you both have your own corner of the room, you’ll spend hours laying on the gray shag rug in the middle between your beds just talking.

“Today, at the diner, a man had the AUDACITY to call me ‘pretty girl’ and like, yes I am pretty but I don’t need an old coffee-breathed, wrinkly limp noodle to tell me that so I assumed he was just stating the obvious and that I should also call him by obvious nicknames in order to better communicate with and understand the customer, as my manager puts it.”

“And what did you call him?”

“When I came back with their food, he said, ‘Can the pretty girl also get us some mayonnaise packets?’ And I said, ‘Not a problem, ‘crusty man.’”

Katara tried her darnedest to flash you a severe look but couldn’t help choking on a fit of giggles.

“Suki approves of it and we spent the rest of our shift calling each other different names when we crossed paths!”

The rest of the night would linger on with more work day stories, giggles, and Sokka occasionally pounding on the door for you both to shut up already because he is trying to sleep goddamnnit and can’t do that while the apartment is filled with your shrill girlish squeals.

Finally, when you both struggle to fight off sleep, you wave the white flag and drag yourself into bed. But just before you drift off, you hear Katara whisper your name from across the room. You’re not even sure if she’s awake, you’re both so tired, but you answer anyways.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of Aang?”

“He adores you (yawn) it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

There’s a silence and you think you’re free to finally fall into your dreams until Katara speaks again.

“What do you think of Zuko?”

“Hmm? I dunno, he’s our (yawn) friend and I like when he brings over (yawn) fireball for game night (yawn) why?”

Your exhaustion overpowers you before you could hear Katara respond, “Because he adores you, it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

Although also your best friend, living with Sokka feels much less sweet and much more chaotic. Somehow you’re at each other’s throats more so than he is with his own blood related sister. It may have started when the Sock Battle started, a game in which Sokka made it his mission to hide his stenchiest pair of socks somewhere in your stuff. By now, you’ve found his socks in your pillowcases, in textbooks, in your gym bag, and in a picture frame next to your bed. You deliberately retaliate in any way you can during game night. While these instances often have you second guessing your friendship with him, you and Sokka could both put the bickering aside with a Disney movie and a bucket of buttered popcorn.

You could have killed him though when he gave you the flu. Katara was spared thanks to her daily regimen of vitamins and obsession with cleanliness, and Sokka had even recovered rather quickly. But you were not as lucky. Even though it was only the beginning of October, you had Katara dig out your flannel holiday pajamas to warm you up from the chills. The darling that she is, Katara made you her famous homemade soup and set it by your bedside table before heading out to see Aang. In the meantime, it was time for payback.

“Sokka, I need you to refill my water bottle.”

“Do it yourself.”

“Fine and when I get over to the kitchen I’ll lick every bag of beef jerky you own.”

“Oh my god, fine. Give me your water bottle.”

“Sokka, I need to charge my phone. Give me your charger.”

“No? Yours in your room, go get it.”

“If only my legs weren’t so weak from this terrible flu I’ve contracted from someone I trusted to be more hygienic.”

“Here, take it.”

“Sokka, you need to light a candle in the bathroom. Ooh do the rose petal one.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate yours and Katara’s girly scented candles.”

“Okay, but then don’t complain about the smell when you go in.”

“It can’t be that bad— OH MY GOD DID SOMETHING CRAWL OUT OF YOU AND DIE?! OH MY GOD IT’S TRAVELLING. IT’S TRAVELLING THROUGH THE APARTMENT.”

By the fourth day of having the flu, Sokka was sick. Not of the flu. Of you. Katara had been spending as much time with Aang as she could to avoid catching anything from you so the responsibility of taking care of you fell on Sokka. And he was finally reaching the breaking point after you left used tissues all over “his side” of the couch. You snuggled into your pile of blankets as you watched your best friend grumble about the living room, every so often glancing at you while muttering incoherently.

After picking up the last of your snot filled, flu infected tissues, Sokka stood in front of you and took a long, exaggerated breath.

“I am leaving this Land of Disgusting to eat at the diner before driving Suki home.”

“Sokka, you had me at ‘I am leaving.’”

“Shut up. You still have a fever so I’ve called in reinforcements to look after you while Katara and I are both out. They’ll be here shortly after I’m gone. Can you handle yourself for 10 minutes?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Before leaving, Sokka grabbed one more blanket from your room to bring to you on the couch. You realize how lucky you are to be such a pain in the ass and still be so loved by your little family. These happy thoughts, along with the utter amusement over the possibility of Toph being the one taking care of you, lulled you into a short, soft nap.

When you open your eyes next, the living room is dark, save for the small lamp in the corner of the room. As you go to stretch out your legs on the couch, your feet kick into something that wasn’t there before.

“Sokka?” you ask wearily, assuming your friend is back from dropping Suki off home.

“Nope.”

It wasn’t Sokka’s voice. Nor was it Toph’s. Trying your best to sit up under the weight of five blankets, you turn your head to see Zuko’s face illuminated by his phone’s screen as his thumb continued to scroll.

“Oh. Hi.”

He looked over at you. “Hey. Can I get you anything?”

It takes you a moment to get over the fact that Zuko is the reinforcements, the one called to take care of you while your roommates are out of the apartment. But finally you respond, “Actually, my throat is really dry. Can you grab my water bottle for me?”

He reached over to the coffee table to grab your water bottle for you. Then, after handing it you, Zuko went back to looking at his phone.

“Katara says you have to take your medicine once you’ve woken up.”

“Ugh noooooo. I don’t want to.”

Taking pills has never been your been your strong suit. Maybe it’s your irrational fear of choking on them or just your innate ability to be stubborn about everything but you try to put up your best fight.

“You have to. Or else we’ll have to cancel another game night or you just won’t be able to play with us. And then who would kill Sokka first in Among Us.”

“You’ll have to continue my legacy, that’s all.”

“Just take the pills. I already cut them up for you.”

“Fine... thank you.”

After you swallow the last pill, you lay back down on the couch but Zuko gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“Since you’re up now, let’s watch a movie. There’s nothing else you should really be doing in your condition.”

“I have my DVDs on my shelf in my room. Pick me a Disney movie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh my god, please? I am very sick and frail and only the nostalgic joys of my childhood can cure me.”

“....fine.”

You muster up a squeal that quickly turns into a cough as Zuko leaves the room. After a few minutes he comes back with Toy Story 2, a choice that makes you raise an eyebrow considering its heartbreaking song is not something you’d expect Zuko to want to watch. Nonetheless, you hardly protest as the two of you settle in on the couch for the movie to begin.

To your surprise, the animated movie managed to steal a couple chuckles from Zuko. After all the bickering throughout the week with Sokka, it was a welcome and pleasant sound ringing in your ears. Despite your better judgment, you shift closer to him, especially when you know Jessie’s big song is getting closer. He doesn’t move away though and even wraps an arm around you. When a chill runs down your spine, you wonder if it’s due to the fever.

“Are you crying?”

“It’s just SO sad, how could you not, Zuko?! Somebody needs to LOVE HER AGAIN.”

Grinning, he hands you the tissue box, which you fully accept both for your tears and flu-inflicted runny nose. But once the song ends and you’ve let out a good cry, your eyelids start to feel enormously heavy. Zuko must sense this because he scoots a bit closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to pass the flu onto Zuko, but for some reason he feels warmer than the mountains of blankets you’re buried under.

The rest of the movie plays on and you struggle to keep your eyes open, often shifting against Zuko to wake yourself back up. You know there’s more to the movie but Zuko picks up the remote and turns off the tv. Before you could even question what he’s doing, he’s lifting you up and walking you to your room.

“But we didn’t see the end of the movie!”

“You weren’t going to stay up to see the end anyways.”

“But you needed to see Jessie and Bullseye find new homes! With Andy! And Wheezy!! Wheezy gets fixed!!”

He helped you under the covers and sat beside you on your bed for a moment. You still feel enough energy to offer up a few more protests.

“Only the end of the movie can cure me with its pure, unadultered childhood joy! You can use some, too! Disney fixes all things!”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but before getting up, Zuko leaned in to kiss your forehead lightly.

“Go to bed, you idiot.”

You didn’t even register when he left your side because you were asleep again within minutes. In fact, when the sunlight from the bedroom window wakes you up hours later, you could have sworn it was all just a fever dream anyways. Disney movies cuddled up with Zuko? Definitely sounds fake. However, later on in the morning, you do begin to suspect it was all real when you find your Toy Story 2 DVD still in DVD player and catching Katara and Sokka trying to discreetly give each other a high five.

#nina's 1k event #zuko x reader #lol what is consistent verb tense i do not know clearly

[onceuponaloonatic]

just a little something i meant to post days ago oops 

Sana should be happy Nico was in such a good mood. The girl had been feeling all the bad vibes her parents had for the past few weeks and it had definitely been putting a damper on her mood. And while Sana had been worried about her, there was too much going on otherwise that she was sort of distracted. But now that her parents had been out for a month with no attempt to contact her, she was starting to feel a bit more comfortable. And now she was just feeling bad for missing out on time with her favorite little girl.

Admittedly, her last few weeks hadn’t been great. Every time she went out she was paranoid she would run into her parents. She would obsessively lock all of the doors every time she was at home, and she had even bought better home security for them. She couldn’t help it, she was so paranoid about everything. Mina and Jihyo had been absolute angels in helping her. Jihyo drove her to therapy and always made sure she was eating enough and doing well. Mina would check in on her every night and hold her when she wasn’t feeling great. Even if Mina was still recovering from her depressive episode, she was still looking after Sana the best she could, and Sana had been so thankful for that. Thankful for her. And thankful to Jihyo too. But during all that paranoia and restlessness she hadn’t been able to spend much time with her daughter. 

Sana would admit, at first Nico being in a great mood had been amazing. She missed spending time with her daughter like this where both of them are able to enjoy it without their minds on something else, but she did get tired eventually. 

“Mommy!” When Sana came to pick Nico up from school, her daughter had jumped on her. Literally. “Oof hi baby.” Sana giggled, instantly moving to hug Nico and pick her up. “How was your day?” “I got jellies mommy!” Nico said excitedly, practically bouncing in Sana’s arms. “Oh yeah? That’s great. Let’s go say bye bye to your teacher, okay?” Sana asked, moving towards Nico’s teacher. “Hello, thanks for all your hard work today.” Sana always said that to Nico’s teacher. Her daughter’s teacher worked hard, and Sana was always sure to thank her for it. “Of course. Nico did great today. During recess we played candyland and then during class Nico won our addition competition. She got every question correct.” Nico’s teacher smiled at how much Nico was squirming around. “Uh-hum! I got jellies!” Nico smiled. “Yeah you did.” The teacher giggled. “Well it seems like today was a great day. Nico we need to get home, auntie Momo is making us dinner.” “Really?!” Nico asked excitedly. “Uh-hum. Mama and Ka-san are both going to be working late and Auntie Nayeon is with your cousins at their grandmother's house.” “Yay!” Nico giggled. “Yup, it’ll be fine. Say thank you and goodbye to Miss Kim, okay Nico?” 

“Bye bye Miss Kim!” Nico said excitedly. “Bye Nico-ya. See you tomorrow.” The teacher waved as Sana carried them out of the classroom. Nico cuddled closer to Sana, wrapping her arms around Sana’s neck. “I missed you mommy.” Nico smiled. “Baby you saw me this morning.” Sana giggled, carefully fishing her keys out of her pocket to unlock her car. “I know. Still missed you.” Nico smiled. “Wel I missed you too princess. Let’s hurry home and maybe Auntie Momo will let us watch Totoro with her after dinner.” Sana tapped Nico’s nose. “Yes! Totoro!” xx 

Momo made them yakisoba for dinner, and Nico loved eating it. Sana was just thankful Momo was able to come over and cook, she hated relying on take out as much as she did when Jihyo and Mina weren’t home. Plus, Sana liked the company. Even if she was feeling better, there was still that paranoia from her parents. So having company really helped lighten her mood. “I heard you got some jellies today kiddo.” Momo mentioned over dinner. “Uh-hum. I got every question right.” Nico smiled, taking another bite of her noodles. “That’s great Nic! Your mommy has always been bad at math, do you like it?” “I teach physics Momo.” Sana rolled her eyes. “I’m great at math.”

“I love math Auntie. Miss Kim says I’m the best at it.” Nico giggled. “That's amazing kiddo.” Momo smiled. “You’ll probably have your mom beaten soon.” “Really?” “Sorry baby. I went to college and learned a lot of math. But if you ever decide you like physics, mommy can teach you it in the future.” Sana giggled, reaching for a napkin to clean off Nico’s face. Nico smiled at her and resumed eating messily. Since Nico was so picky, Momo had made her special yaki soba with just chicken, noodles, sauce, and mushrooms. Nico had recently discovered she loved mushrooms, after finally relenting to trying them when Kazumi convinced her they were going to make her tall. She fell in love and now asked for them in almost everything they made, even if there were times it seemed a bit odd. 

“Mommy said we could watch Totoro.” Nico said after a bit. “Oh yeah? Well I would love to watch Totoro with you.” Momo smiled. “We could get some popcorn, and some jellies.” “Yes!” Nico was practically bouncing in her chair. “Only if you eat all of your food though okay?” Momo prompted. “Okay!” “Momo we don’t have any popcorn or candy, Mina doesn’t like it when we keep that stuff in the house.” Sana pointed out. “It’s okay, we can walk to the convenience store. I’ll pay.” Momo offered. “You really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense. It was my idea.” Momo nodded. “Anyway, Nico be sure to eat all your food so you can have more jellies.” “Okay!”

xx 

Nico was practically skipping the whole way to the convenience store. Sana made sure to keep a tighter grip on her than usual, just to be sure she didn’t run off. After buying Nico’s favorite candy and some microwave popcorn. Momo goes to set up the movie while Sana and Nico make the popcorn. “How come Ka-san doesn’t like popcorn?” Nico asked as Sana put the popcorn in the microwave. Nico pulled on her hand, holding her arms out to be picked up so she could see the popcorn in the microwave. 

“Ka-san doesn’t dislike popcorn, it’s just not good for us. Popcorn is like candy, it’s a special treat.” Sana explained. “Oh. I like popcorn.” Nico mentioned, looking closer at the popcorn. “Yeah me too.” Sana smiled, kissing Nico’s cheek. She didn’t know why, but seeing Nico excitedly watch the popcorn was just making her melt. It was just so cute, she couldn’t help it.

“Pop!” Nico smiled when the popcorn started going off.

“Pop.” Sana repeated with a smile. Once it was ready Sana put it in a bowl and brought it over to Momo, who immediately held up a candy for Nico. “Jelly!” Nico smiled. “Thank you Auntie Momo.” “Of course Nico.” Momo smiled. “Now come cuddle with Auntie.” Nico excitedly climbed into Momo’s lap, Momo wrapping her arms around her. Sana knew what Momo was doing. She and Nayeon had both been looking into adopting another baby recently. From what she understood, they were looking for a kid slightly older than Nico, but Momo was still using Nico as a bit of practice. Their kids hadn’t been little in a while, and Momo had always been self conscious about spending time around kids. Momo always talked about how perfect Nayeon was with kids, and how much she doubted herself. Sana always tried to reassure her that she was great, but even after raising three kids, she was still unsure of herself sometimes. After the movie, Momo has to leave to facetime Nayeon and her kids. 

“Auntie Momo has to go?” Nico asked, hugging Momo tighter. “Sorry kiddo, I need to go talk to Nayeon and your cousins.” Momo explained. “Okay…” Nico nodded. “Here, give the jellies to Neul Unnie, Jae Oppa, and Zumi Unnie.” Nico handed Momo the rest of her bag of candy Momo had bought her. “Oh Nico this is your candy-”

“It’s for Unnies and Oppa.” Nico nodded. 

“Okay.” Momo sighed, accepting it. “I’ll see you tomorrow Sana?” Sana nodded, kissing Momo’s cheek. “See you tomorrow Momo.” Sana smiled. “Bye bye Auntie Momo!” Nico waved, giving Momo a tighter hug before letting go and moving back to Sana’s side. “Let’s go take a bath, yeah?” Sana offered. Nico nodded, practically buzzing from all the sugar she had just consumed with the popcorn. 

This is where things started to go wrong. Nico was on a sugar high, a bad one. And Sana was just trying to give her a bath. 

“And and during class Somi was telling me that she’s going to be Elsa tomorrow! We can wear whatever we want tomorrow!” “Oh yeah?” Sana hummed, trying to get Nico’s strawberry body wash onto her, however she kept squirming, which was making it difficult. “Uh-hum! Can I be Elsa too?” Nico asked. “No no wait, I want to be Totoro!” “You don’t want to be a princess?” Sana asked.

“No totoro!” Nico insisted. “Totoro has big hugs and I want big hugs like Totoro! Or mommy!” “Aw thanks sweetie.” Sana sighed. SHe was running out of energy fast. She wasn’t normally like this around Nico, normally she had an almost endless amount of mom energy. But today, she was just tired. She had been emotionally exhausted for the past few weeks and she had given two three hour lectures today before going to get Nico. And right now, she was just starting to get tired fast. And Nico’s fidgeting was not making it any easier. “And-and I want totoro lunch! With mush-mush, chickin, and rice.” Nico explained. It was adorable how she said mushroom, but Sana was fading too fast to do her normal cooing over her baby. “Okay. We can tell Ka-san when she gets home.” Sana hummed, still trying to get Nico still enough to put her body wash on. 

“Hu-um. And I also want strawberries and watermelon. And and can we see Auntie Chaeng and Auntie Tzuyu tomorrow? I drew a picture of Auntie Chaeyoung’s body drawings! And I want to see Emi Unnie. She lets me draw body art on her!” Sana was happy to see Nico this animated. She was just tired. “I can see if we can go see them.” Sana nodded, finally getting Nico still enough to put body wash on her. Nico was still talking and Sana was just half listening. She knew that was awful, and that’s not how she normally was with Nico. She just wasn’t in the right headspace. Not yet.

“Having fun?” Sana nearly started crying when she heard Mina’s voice. She looked up, seeing her wife leaning against the doorframe to Nico’s bathroom. “Ka-san is home!” “Yeah, I can see someone had a little sugar.” Nico giggled.

“I got lots of jellies.” Nico informed.

“Lots huh? Sounds fun.” Mina smiled. “Now let mommy finish off your bath.” Mina giggled at Sana’s struggle. Nico finally was still enough for Snaa to finish, and once she was done Sana wrapped her up in a towel hug. By this point, Nico’s energy was fading, fast. “Sleepy?” Sana asked, dressing Nico up in her favorite pink pajamas. “Nu-uh.” Nico nodded. “Let’s go see Ka-san, okay?” Nico nodded, following Sana out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom. Mina was on the bed, scrolling through her phone. “Ka-san!” Nico hugged Mina. “Hey baby.” Mina smiled, kissing Nico’s head. “I got this. Go take a rest.” Mina mouthed to Sana. Sana smiled at her, watching Nico cuddle closer to Mina. She nodded, moving to Mina’s other side to cuddle her. “Ka-san, story?” “Sure. I’ll go get one.” Mina hummed. “Be right back.” Nico fell asleep in the middle of the story, cuddling as close to two of her moms as possible. Mina and Sana both smiled, kissing Nico before tucking her into their big bed. “Thanks Mitang.” Sana sighed once they were in the living room.

“Of course.” Mina smiled. “Wine?” “Sure.” Sana nodded. “Still, I love her so much but I’m just- a little tired.” “You haven’t been on mom duty for a while now, it’s okay.” Mina smiled, moving to prepare two glasses of wine. “She’s not too bad though.” “No, just when Momo and I give her candy.” Sana smiled.

“That's why she doesn’t get candy.” Mina reached out for Sana’s hand. Sana held Mina’s hand tightly, giving her a small smile. “She has been doing better lately. She even started eating mushrooms.” “I know. I’m so proud of her.” Sana smiled. “When is Hyo going to be home?” “She said less than an hour.” Mina mentioned. “I can’t wait.” Sana moved to cuddle Mina. Mina wrapped her arms around Sana, holding her tight. “I missed mommy Nico time, but you know what I missed just as much?” “What?” “Misana time.” Sana smiled. “And once Hyo gets here it will be perfect.” “I can’t wait.” 

#twice #misahyo #misahyo au #minatozaki sana #park jihyo #myoui mina #nico #namo

[snarkwrites]

03 pt 2 | m i n e ; tim speedle csi miami

Notes:

This.. Took a lot of time because for a long time, absolutely nothing I tried was clicking. But it finally came to me after a discussion of sorts with bae @twistnet​ and I sat down and reworked everything I’d originally written and now, finally, here we are. The continuation of the last part’s cliffhanger. And.. Things get kind of hot. A little intense. And maybe a little creepy...

Pairing:

Tim Speedle x OFC, Sylvie

Warnings:

Stalker warning. Huuuge stalker warning. Mentions of violence / swearing and other adult themes to come. Anything else I need to warn about will be listed here as needed.

If you can handle the stuff that happened on this show in the past, you should be alright reading this. 

Other Parts

[ one - two - two pt two - three pt one - soundtrack ] 

Other Stuff

[ faq - tag squad ] 

Tag Squad

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@twistnet​ 

                                       THREE PT. TWO.

“You’re startin to burn, doll.” Tim’s voice drew me out of a light cat nap. I rolled over onto my stomach, gazing at him through a curtain of damp blonde. Pushing my hair out of my eyes. “It’ll tan tomorrow.” I teased, nodding to the way he seemed to skip any burning phase and go straight to golden god status as I remarked, “Not all of us can lay around in the sun and turn into a bronze god, sir.”

“I also have on sunscreen, doll.” Tim pointed out. Motioning for me to sit up and turn around. A calm and firm look in his eyes that prompted me to do as he asked before I even realized I was doing it. He’d always had that way about him though. A fact I pouted about and teased him over as I settled between his legs, my back facing him so he could rub me down with sunscreen.

His hands worked over my hot skin clumsily. Before I could stop myself, just the feeling of his hands on me had me squirming more than just a little. Hissing quietly as he accidentally spilled some of the lotion onto my back and swore under his breath about it. “Sorry, doll.” he apologized, the warmth of his breath caressing the shell of my ear as he leaned in to mumble the words against it. I barely managed fighting back a whimper that I knew beyond a doubt might just make things awkward. Awkwardness was the absolute last thing I wanted. 

What I wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before. But realistically, I knew that couldn’t happen. That even if we got close, it wouldn’t be the exact same because we were different people by now.

I shivered at the gentleness of his touch as his hands worked over my back. Clumsy. The roughness of his hands against the softness of my skin had me barely fighting a whimper.

I wiggled around slightly and when I did, Tim chuckled quietly. Leaning into me from behind. Mumbling next to my ear with a hushed laugh, “I’m all done back here.” as his mouth once again brushed right against the shell of my ear. He was resting his chin on my shoulder, looking at my cell phone because I was trying to take a picture of us just for the random hell of it. His mouth brushed against my shoulder and I dropped the phone, not bothering to restrain the whimper that came as a result of the way the soft drag of his mouth against my shoulder felt.

I shivered once again, making him laugh. Lock eyes with me in the viewfinder of my phone’s camera. His tongue darted out and across the outline of his lips and I swallowed hard. Tried to tell myself that I was taking things out of context. That Tim wasn’t flirting with me right now.

I couldn’t drag my eyes out of the depths of his. The warmth there.

And I missed him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter how many times I told myself things needed to happen slowly. I missed him and I was tired. So tired. I didn’t want to fight whatever was happening between us now.

As much as I knew I should’ve been trying harder to stop it, trying harder not to fall back into old habits. Were our old habits really so bad, I found myself wondering.

I couldn’t fight it anymore.

I turned around to face him. My legs settling over his thighs as I sat between. Leaning in close. Closer and closer until I could feel my heart about to beat right out of my chest. I grabbed hold of his chin, pulling his mouth against mine before I even had the sense to stop myself. Tim didn’t seem to be up for stopping me either, because his tongue slipped past my lips, tangling with mine. His hand tangled in my hair, pulling me into the kiss even deeper. I scooted closer to him, wrapping my legs around his hips as the kiss continued to go on, everything and everyone around us seeming to fall away.

Until a throat cleared from behind us.

Tim eyed the person who’d done it, a brow raised. Deadpan.

“Is there somethin you want?”

I turned, shielding my eyes from the sun. Gazing up. The color draining from my face as soon as I realized exactly who was standing there watching us.

The man I’d had a run in at the gas station with. The one I’d thought was following me that day. I gulped. Took a deep breath. Doing my best to pretend as if I’d never seen him before.

“Hey, I’ve seen you before.”

“I have never seen you before in my life.” I answered as calmly as I could. Leaning against Tim a little as I felt him starting to tense up.

For a second, I saw something darken in the man’s bright blue eyes. Anger. His fist clenched, but he quickly shoved it into the pocket of green palm print board shorts.

“You’re that model, right?”

I sighed. Taking a deep breath as I nodded. Informing him with the best non-confrontational smile I could manage, “Not for much longer.”

“Think I could get a picture with you? The guys back home would shit a thousand bricks…” he chuckled. Tim cleared his throat. Gazing up at the guy.

I noticed that the guy seemed to stand taller. Seemed to take on that same distant look that he’d had when I locked eyes with him at the pumps of that gas station two weeks before. 

Tim spoke up. “You do realize that she’s here on vacation, right? And that we were kind of in the middle of something?”

“Sorry, my bad man.” the guy flashed a grin that somehow seemed menacing. Chilling. Almost as if the light was on upstairs but nobody was home. I bit my lip and sighed. About to call out to the guy to tell him I’d take his selfie. Trying to tell myself that maybe in this case, it was paranoia. Maybe the guy had just seen me then, hadn’t been following me. And we happened to bump into each other again, today.

Tim was turning me back around to face him. His hands at either side of my face as he asked quietly, “Everything okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah.”

“You acted like you’d seen a ghost when you looked up at him. Are you sure you don’t know the guy?”

I know I should’ve told the truth when he asked, full stop.. But when I opened my mouth, the answer No came out. Tim eyed me. “You wanna try that again, princess?”

I swallowed hard. Told him about the run in at the gas station. Quick to add that it had to have all been a coincidence. Tim mulled it over, nodding after a few seconds. “If you see him again though, let me know. I mean it, doll. With everything that’s going on right now, you can’t be too careful.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” I sighed, leaning against him. My arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around me, tilting my chin to make me look at him. Licking his lips as he leaned into me a little and muttered with a teasing smirk, “Where were we, huh?” as his mouth crashed against mine all over again, his tongue parting my lips.

XXX

“She’s mine. Mine!” he fumed as he paced his seedy hotel room. The couple in the next room were fuck fighting again and it wasn’t helping him at all. He pounded on the walls and then sank down onto the bed. Gazing up at the pictures of her he had taped up all over the wall above the bed.

Raising to sit as he ghosted his finger over the newest one he’d added. Taken the night before. When she’d been asleep in her new beach house.

“Soon. I’m gonna get you away from all of this soon, sweetheart.”

His cell phone rang and as soon as he saw who was calling, he chuckled. Deliberately turning off the device so that any attempt the caller made to contact him would go straight to his voice mailbox.

“Let’s see how you like that shit, brother. I’m gonna show you. I’m going to make you regret the day you were born, man. Burn me, I’ll burn you first.” he muttered to himself as he stood, peering out the keyhole.

 Watching for his pizza delivery.

Because for the time being, pizza and shitty porn were all he had while he bided his time. Waiting on all the chips to fall in line.

His eyes settled on the blown up poster of Sylvie in her yellow swimsuit. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath. “Shouldn’t be too much longer, sweetheart. Then I’ll finally be able to have you all to myself. I’ll finally be able to save you from my brother. From everyone who’s a threat to you and wants to keep us apart...”

#tim speedle fanfiction #tim speedle fanfic #tim speedle imagine #tim speedle fic #tim speedle imagines #my writing ; tim speedle #my fics ; tim speedle #my fanfiction ; tim speedle #stalker tw #violence and other adult themes tw

[halothenthehorns]

MAYHEM AT THE MINISTRY

Remus did not look pleased one little bit about accepting the book. He hated how they'd grown almost content, getting so many pleasant chapters in a row and then the huge finale of the Cup, just to have such a terrible one right after. He was terrified the trend would continue, but being afraid of something had never actually stopped him from doing anything, let alone in regards to a book, so he kept going.

Arthur woke them all very early the next morning, packed down the tents with magic, and only gave a vague wave to Mr. Roberts as they passed, while he called out a cheerful 'Merry Christmas!'

Lily's mind flickered back to her earlier worry that to many memory charms couldn't be good for him, and to have something so powerful taken away as well, oh she really hoped he would be okay.

Mr. Weasley spotted Harry's concerned look and promised he would be fine, some people got a little hazy with such a large memory being altered. When they reached the sight to collect their Portkey, there was already a huge queue all clamoring to get out of there at once.

"Cannot blame them," Remus sighed.

Arthur managed to get his way to the front, have a quick conversation with Basil, and returned back with a Portkey to take them home.

"Least they didn't have to wait on the Diggory's," Sirius sniffed.

    They walked back down the hill with little spirit, too tired to do much of anything, but were all caught off guard by a shrill voice shouting in gratitude they'd returned.

"Molly," they all muttered in surprise, considering the time it was a wonder she was awake, but even more surprising was that this reaction meant she knew what had happened already.

Upon reflection though, the four of them weren't that surprised, the Daily Prophet was known for staying on top of the news, though not always in the best light.

Molly was sprinting up the drive towards the lot of them, colliding first with her husband and dropping her newspaper in the process, which fell to the ground letting Harry read the title explaining that terror had happened at the Cup, including a photo of the Dark Mark.

Mrs. Weasley was still sobbing into her husband's shoulder, but quickly turned watery eyes to check and make sure all were still present, before her eyes caught sight of the twins and she latched an arm around each neck and pulled them in, crashing their heads together.

"Ooh," Lily sighed, completely understanding why she'd feel particularly awful for those two.

"Think now would be a good time to drop the bomb they won a gambling bet," Sirius smiled weakly, "I don't think they'd get in quite as much trouble for it."

Lily shot him a look, but as his joking tone hadn't quite smothered his own happiness at the scene, she didn't say anything.

The twins tried to protest their treatment, but Molly kept crying into them now that she felt terrible the last thing she'd done before they'd left was yell about their O.W.L.'s!

"This is really sweet," Remus smiled widely without a trace a humor.

"Bet it only lasts a day before they find some new way to tick her off," James chuckled, not really able to pick up his own poking fun at the situation.

Arthur finally managed to detach his wife from her kids and convince her to come inside so he could explain things to her, muttering at Bill as he passed to grab that paper so he could read it. Once Mrs. Weasley had calmed, Arthur did indeed read the print and found it full of the wrongdoings on the Ministry's part at the Cup.

"All the standard tosh of the paper," Sirius snorted.

He demanded of no one who had written it, then seemed to catch sight of the name Rita Skeeter.

Harry felt a vile shot of annoyance at once, a scowl appearing when he heard that name, but it was diminished as always when Remus kept reading so he chose not to pay it any attention.

Percy at once jumped in at how furious that woman made him, how she'd gone on about his useless report and had instead been trying to say they should be out hunting down vampires, going on to list the Guideline specifically explaining why this wasn't even a thing, when Bill cut him off by politely asking him to shut up.

Causing all four boys to crack up laughing, they were all liking Bill more and more as this kept on.

Mr. Weasley hadn't even been listening and had kept at the paper, stating in surprise he'd been referenced. Mrs. Weasley choked on her tea in shock, saying she hadn't seen that, and Arthur quickly corrected it hadn't been by name, just his passing comment saying that nothing had happened that night.

"There was no more information to give," Lily scoffed.

Rita Skeeter had added her own thoughts to that saying it probably wouldn't be enough to squash the rumors about bodies later being removed, causing Arthur to scoff that now she'd said that there certainly would be rumors.

"Why do I get the feeling Arthur has previous experience with this writer?" Sirius asked.

"She certainly sounds more like a tabloid then a reporter," Remus grumbled.

Arthur gave one last heavy sigh before telling his family he'd have to run into the office because of this. Percy agreed he'd come, he could hand Crouch his report on cauldron bottoms in person.

"I'm sure that'll be the highlight of his day," James sneered.

Percy sprinted up the stairs without another word, while Molly tried to protest Arthur's leaving, saying he'd just gotten home, and this had nothing to do with his department. Arthur gently corrected her he may have made things worse.

"No one in the Ministry would know it was Arthur who said that," Lily arched a brow in surprise. "This Rita person could have pulled that comment out of the air."

"Arthur really doesn't have a reason to feel so responsible," James nodded in agreement, "he didn't do anything wrong."

Arthur left for a quick change of clothes, and Harry couldn't hold in the question anymore of whether he'd gotten mail while he was away.

They all eagerly shut their trap in hopes Molly would say yes to that one.

Molly distractedly said nothing had come in.

Then they started to get a little fidgety, all eyes flickering to Sirius and away. Sirius tried for a scoff, scolding all of them, "oh relax, just because I haven't responded already," he hesitated for a moment, wavering and trying to come up with a reason for himself, before asking Harry, "how long did it usually take me to reply?"

"Less than two weeks," Harry gave a shrug he didn't really feel.

"See," Sirius really did relax back this time. "I haven't even gotten his letter yet, are you lot really going to be freaking out the day I'm late?"

'Yes' was the collective mental answer all of them had, but none of them bothered to answer him aloud. They'd take the paranoia and be wrong with relief every time than think for even a second Sirius had been captured, none of them could stand another year like the last one.

Harry's two friends looked curiously at him, and he heavily suggested he go dump his stuff in Ron's room. Ron and Hermione agreed that would be a good idea and came along.

"Absolutely subtle," Sirius started to snicker, then switched to scowling at his two friends when they wouldn't quite watching him with unease. If they didn't lighten up he was going to have to start doing something drastic.

They waited until they reached the privacy of Ron's room before demanding of Harry what that had been about, and he finally told them of his scar hurting a few days ago. Their reactions were near perfect to how Harry had predicted them.

"It's good you know your friends so well," James muttered, finally turning away from Sirius. He wasn't done worrying about him yet, and frankly he wouldn't be until his name was cleared, but at least this was a mildly entertaining distraction.

Ron began demanding to know that You-Know-Who hadn't been around Harry this time, right?

Lily really did start laughing at that. Harry's spot on imaginary Ron had been perfect.

Harry agreed he was sure no one was there who shouldn't be, but it was strange. His dream had been about Wormtail,

Remus managed to spit out that name with the same amount of contempt he would have with the word Mudblood, or werewolf, or a number of things he wished he'd never in his life have to mention again.

saying he couldn't clearly remember details anymore, but they'd been talking about murdering...someone.

"I get the feeling they could have filled in that blank," James mumbled, wiggling just that little bit closer to his son no matter how stupid he may have deemed it in retrospect.

He hadn't been able to say the word 'me' because Hermione looked more than terrified enough.

Lily was doing a remarkable reenactment of that expression now, and she had the knowledge Harry was going to be fine. It was still making Harry feel just as bad for his mum as his friend, but was unable to help soothe either of them.

Ron tried to comfort all of them it had just been a nightmare though, nothing to worry about, but Harry disagreed. Stating how odd these coincidences were, his scar had hurt, and three days later Voldemort's sign appeared in the sky.

"Why, why on earth can't we just have one year where we don't even have to mention Voldemort's name?" Remus groused.

"Because my life would be too boring otherwise," Harry muttered.

Ron snapped at Harry not to say You-Know-Who's real name, but Harry ignored him as always. Reminding them of Trelawney's prediction last year.

"Haven't been able to forget it yet, but thanks for the reminder," Sirius muttered, that prophecy had nearly been his undoing, and even when he'd found out it hadn't related to him it was not a pleasant look back.

That finally distracted Hermione from her fear, giving a huffy laugh at Harry for believing anything she said.

"You never told them she made a real prophecy?" James asked in surprise.

"Never got around to it," Harry shrugged, giving Sirius an absent nudge as he said, "had some other stuff on my mind that night, and then I was trying to forget about it there at the end."

Sirius though had something much more entertaining to say as he gave his best friend a superior smirk and demanded, "so you do admit prophecies are real now?"

"Can't hardly deny it when Harry had one smacked in his face," Remus sighed, already being able to tell where this was headed by Sirius' pompous tone.

"Then you owe me years of apologizes for calling me a loon in believing in them," Sirius crowed, his smile stretching wider every second as he glanced from one friend to the other. "Go on, I want to hear you say it now. Prophecies exist!"

"Oh knock it off Snuffles," Harry sighed, for some reason the idea of Sirius talking about this was setting him on edge, but even as he finished he ended on a pained hiss and went cross eyed, trying to understand why he'd call Sirius that. After blinking away a few bright spots, he saw he wasn't the only one.

"Now why would you know that name?" Remus asked first. "I only called him that a half a dozen times, back in our fourth year."

"I've never heard this one," James raised an even more surprised brow at his two friends.

Sirius shrugged with nonchalant as he said, "it was during our Christmas break, and I got a head cold. Kept sneezing and body parts kept randomly turning into a dog, we didn't master our transformations until fifth year," Sirius added on for Harry. "Remus kept laughing about it every time and started calling me Snuffles all week. By the time you," he broke off with an old wince at the fact he couldn't add on the other name without substituting a swear word, "got back, the joke had died off."

Harry nodded in understanding, but none of this answered their original question, why on earth Harry would know any of that. The whole matter had successfully distracted both Sirius and Harry though, so Remus decided to keep reading now while he still could.

Harry defended the Divination teacher though, saying it had definitely been a real prediction this time, even quoting the parts about the Dark Lord's return, reminding the end results had been Wormtail's escape that night.

Now Remus regretted it and wanted to go back to admitting Sirius had been right about something, it was certainly easier to stomach then thinking on that. Through a red haze he glanced up and saw the other four were a mask of boiling hatred again, so Remus collected himself and put on the most tragic face he could muster as he said, "alright Padfoot, I admit, you were right about prophecies. Never again shall I argue with your unending knowledge, about this," he quickly tacked on, already knowing he was going to regret giving in the moment Sirius attempted to replace his bloodlust with a satisfied smirk. It didn't really work, his jaw was still clenched too tightly for the expression to look natural, but the fact he even attempted a smile made it feel worth it to Remus.

No one could think of anything else to add until Hermione again asked about Hedwig. Harry said he'd written a letter to Sirius asking about this, and Ron agreed at once that was a great idea, he'd have an answer for them.

"Why on earth would they think that?" James demanded at once, far more up for pestering his best mate then giving in to him. "You hardly know the difference between Devil's Snare and Mandrakes."

"Oi," Sirius hooted. "What's those evil little plants got to do with knowing about this Dark stuff? I know plenty about that, more than you."

James looked like he was about to keep pressing in, with a highly amused audience of Remus and Harry, but Lily gave Remus a hard nudge and waved him on, still wanting to get through this chapter more then watch them snip at each other no matter how much it made her feel better.

Harry agreed, though expressed he was worried he'd thought Sirius would reply by now. Hermione reminded they had no idea how far away he was, it would take longer than just three days. Harry agreed with a heavy sigh.

James kept his superior expression in place even as that feeling of jealousy returned, still wishing in vain he could have replaced that sentence with his own name.

Ron quickly changed the subject by offering Harry to come play Quidditch, he knew all of his brothers would join in, and Harry could try the Wronski Feint.

"Oh that's a brilliant idea," Lily sighed, "because one life or death experience isn't enough for you in a twenty-four hour period."

"Stop exaggerating Lily," Sirius snickered, "Quidditch is good for him, helps him work out the nerves."

Hermione snapped at him in a 'I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive' sort of voice

"I get the feeling she has to use that voice often," Remus chuckled.

by saying Harry didn't want to play Quidditch now,

"Oh yes he does," Harry laughed, the idea of trying out that move again now still present.

that he should want to go to bed, but Harry interrupted that a game sounded fun.

"Best to cut her off before she could keep going like that," James snickered, "she'd be tucking you into bed before you knew it."

He went rummaging for his Firebolt as Hermione stomped out muttering about 'boys.'

"I'm sure there were some other things mixed in there," Lily rolled her eyes, on complete agreement with Hermione on that.

The narrative jumps in by saying that for the next week, neither Percy nor Arthur were home much. Percy could be heard saying over dinner the Sunday before they were due back at school how the place was in an uproar in a pompous, superior tone.

"I swear that's the description you give after everything he says," Sirius snorted.

"And he doesn't deserve it one bit," Remus agreed.

People kept sending Howlers complaining of what all had happened, and wanting reimbursement for their stuff. One Mundungus Fletcher was wanting compensation for his twelve-bedroom tent that had been destroyed, but Percy knew for a fact he'd been sleeping under his own cloak.

"What an idiot," Lily scoffed, "did he really think he could get away with that?"

"I've heard of stupider things he's tried," James shrugged.

Unlike before, where he'd still felt to unsure to hardly even speak up, Harry had no qualms this time inserting himself into the conversation and asking, "how do you guys know him?" In hopes to ease some of the pressure in his skull telling him he should know that name anyways.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's," Remus shrugged, "does a lot of things for the Order most members either can't, or won't do because they don't have the same ah, connections."

"Friend is putting it lightly," Sirius snorted. "Dumbledore keeps bailing him out from the stupider crimes he gets caught doing, so Mundungus does whatever he asks." Then he turned to Harry and put much more bluntly, "he's a criminal, never made an honest living in his life, but he's pretty fun to have around. Dung's always been good for a laugh, and he can get you some really cheap things most won't normally go after."

"You are not endearing me," Harry finally laughed to show he'd gotten the message. All of this helped somewhat, he was now quite sure this was the same way he knew the same man, but there was still something missing. A connection he was sure he had to the name, but of course that wouldn't come to him.

Molly was not paying attention to the conversation, glancing repetitively at the clock where all of the Weasley family's names had replaced the hands, and instead of numbers it indicated such things as work, traveling, or home,

"I love that," Lily said instantly, her eyes brightening with want.

"I wonder how they got ahold of that," James ruffled up his brow thoughtfully, his mind already spinning with the idea he'd like to recreate that for his family, that nasty little pang reminding him of the count of hands he'd have now rather than if he'd heard about this just a week ago.

"It was an anniversary present for Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, "I think Mr. Weasley made it, though I have no idea how."

"Fascinating," Lily said honestly, adding this to her growing list of things she had a mind to say to the Weasleys when she planned to meet them in person.

"I do wonder though," Remus said with some surprise, "why she was so worried about her family if she had that. It would have said whether anything bad had happened to them."*

"There's a difference in a clock telling you, and seeing them in person," Lily said mildly.

"Besides," Sirius shrugged, "considering the time they arrived back, I'll bet you she just saw that paper and sprinted out the back to wait, I don't think that would have crossed her mind till later, and they came back soon enough she didn't have time to check."

as well as lost, hospital, prison,

Lily couldn't help but snort, thinking 'oh that's lovely.'

and, mortal peril.

"Sounds handy," Sirius snickered.

"That's where your hand would be all year," Lily shot back.

Sirius went wide eyed and pressed his hand to his heart as he cooed at her, "awe, Lily, you'd put my name up there?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she tried to say with a straight face, though the effect was ruined by her twitching lips.

All of the hands but Arthur's currently pointed at home, while his was at work. Mrs. Weasley gave a heavy sigh as she said to no one in particular that he hadn't been working this much since the time of You-Know-Who.

"Why would Mr. Weasley's job be involved in that?" Harry asked in surprise. "If he just informs people about what Muggle stuff is?"

Lily wasn't a hundred percent sure herself, as she'd personally never even spoken to Arthur in real life, and only had a vague idea of where his office even was in the Ministry, but she knew for a fact she had to send owls down there all the time for other things besides just what a Muggle object was so she offered, "it's a bit more than that dear. I don't think you quite realize how often wizards, mistakenly or not, involve themselves in Muggle affairs. Whatever any department does, Arthur would have to make sure to check it over and make sure it doesn't interfere with anything to do with Muggles. This Dark Mark business," Lily heaved a huge sigh in sympathy for the Ministry falling into even a portion of the pandemonium it was on a daily basis to her in this timeline, "it causes all sorts of mayhem at the Ministry to keep that sort of thing under wraps from the Muggles no matter how far away they were. All those wizards panicking and fleeing the scene for instance, apparating away in their panic and landing in Muggle neighborhoods for instance, could have shocked any number of them, you see where I'm going?" She finished with an expectant look.

Harry nodded in understanding, his sympathy for the Weasley patriarch suddenly doubling.

Saying his job was working him to hard, and his dinner would be ruined by the time he got here. Percy said that his father had brought this on himself with his mistake.

James's mouth opened with a little pop as he gasped, "is Percy really agreeing with the Ministry over his own father with that nonsense?"

"What a little prat," Sirius nodded with a heavy scowl in place.

Saying he shouldn't have said anything until he'd spoken with his Head of Department about the press,

"He is the Head of his Department," Remus snapped, stunned that he was defending Arthur from one of his own kids. Bloody hell, he remembered this random snap of information from when Ron had said it two books ago! How could Percy be acting like this?

Lily had always had the most sympathy for Percy, she found his position in the family more sad than annoying like the rest of the boys seemed to, but even she was getting a little fiery over the way he was acting now, there was no excuse of taking your jobs side over your family's.

Harry's thoughts were in perfect alignment with his mother's, wondering why on earth all of this Percy talk felt like a bad omen.

but Molly cut him off with a snap that Percy was not going to sit there and blame his father for whatever Skeeter had caused! Bill agreed with his mother, saying if their dad hadn't said anything, Skeeter would have just said no one at the Ministry had bothered to give a comment, all while keeping his eyes on the chessboard he was playing with Ron on.

That was a quick distraction, all of them vividly remembering the last time Ron had been mentioned playing chess, at least this time the pieces weren't life sized.

Harry gave a happy smile at this, saying, "Bill was the only one who could play Ron and actually be a threat to him."

Still going on to say that she didn't like anyone, she'd done some interviews of the Curse Breakers once, and she'd called him a 'long-haired pillock.'

"Well this woman's just getting more and more charming," Remus scoffed.

Molly couldn't seem to help herself as she did agree it was getting a bit long, but Bill cut her off with a quick no.

"I get the feeling that must be a daily occurrence," Sirius snorted, brushing his hair out of his own face.

Rain was pouring down outside, the cozy little scene in the living room displaying all of them sitting around in comfort working on something. Charlie was currently tending a fireproof balaclava,

"Why would he need to fix a fireproof anything?" Harry asked in surprise, having been too invested in his own project at the time to ask.

"It can still get worn out even when it's not set on fire," Lily shrugged, "I'm sure Charlie has to do that on his own all the time, considering how little he's home."

Harry was polishing his Firebolt, and the twins were off in the corner muttering over a piece of paper.

"Subtle," James snorted, thinking they'd at least have the sense to make more order forms outside of their mother's point of view.

"I think they're just asking for another argument," Remus nodded.

Molly seemed to notice this at the same time as Harry, as she snapped at her twins what they were up to? Fred responded at once with homework.

"Right," Sirius exaggerated the word to the extreme.

Mrs. Weasley scolded they were still on holiday, and George agreed they'd just left it a bit late.

"Now that I'll believe," Lily snorted.

She was still glaring at them as she demanded to know if those were more to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?

"Can't restart what they never gave up on," Remus smirked, as clearly no matter what their mother said, those two had this in the works for some time.

Fred turned hurt filled eyes on her, reminding that if the Hogwarts express crashed tomorrow and they died, did she really want to pick an argument with them about this?

Lily gave a small sigh, she didn't really think it was right to pick on their mother for that reaction she'd had, but it didn't erase her own laughter blending in with the boys at their picking.

Even Mrs. Weasley laughed at her son's picking, but then she quickly turned to excitement when she saw Arthur's hand finally switch from traveling, and then seconds later, home. She was already bustling towards the kitchen before Arthur could call out, and he came into the living room looking haggard. He picked listlessly at his meal as the told those around him that Skeeter was still causing all kinds of problems, now she'd found out about Bertha and that was going to be another Ministry blunder headline. Percy agreed Crouch had said weeks ago someone should go looking for her.

"Did he really need to add that?" Sirius muttered, fighting down the compulsion more with every line he spoke to smack Percy.

Arthur grumbled back they were just lucky Skeeter didn't know about Crouch's involvement with that Dark Mark business, that would be a headline for weeks.

"If that did happen, his grounds of clothing his elf would make a bit more sense," Sirius quirked a brow in surprise, "so I guess if you think about it, he was just doing that preemptively."

"I cannot believe you're really going back and saying that was okay," Lily balked at him.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her and said, "What? I still think they were over the line treating her like that, but we all know Crouch has such a large stick up his arse it's not really surprising he'd think that way. If you consider the way he is now, I wouldn't be surprised one little bit the second something Dark is connected to his name he'd throw it to the wolves."

"You're depressing me," Lily sighed, slumping back into the couch without argument for that.

Harry was getting a bubbling feeling in his gut, something in him telling him Sirius was very close to the mark and none of them realized it, but of course he couldn't begin to imagine details of what this was.

Percy was getting a temper now as he said everyone here had agreed Crouch had nothing to do with that!

James scoffed as he snapped, "I wouldn't be surprised if Percy just said that and no one argued with him. While yes he's right," he rolled his eyes, "you don't need to go shouting at them for it."

Hermione shot back Crouch was lucky the Prophet didn't know how he treated elves!

Sirius couldn't help a surprised little snort of laughter, that's what Hermione had caught on? No one else would bat an eye at that part.

Percy sighed at her, trying to defend his boss that such a man couldn't have disobedient servants, but Hermione hotly cut him off and corrected slave!

"Eh," James waved his hand vaguely, "I think Hermione's exaggerating the term a bit."

"I don't," Lily snapped at once. The more she heard about this, the more she was kicking herself or never having looked farther into it. "What's so different with house-elves, and treating people that same way?"

"The practice of house-elves being attached to wizarding families goes back centuries," Sirius rolled his eyes, "it's practically as common as wizards themselves."

"Just because it's old and traditional doesn't make it right," Lily ground out. "You're saying that these beings that are clearly as human as Remus shouldn't be treated the same."

"Hey," Remus yelped, "don't drag me into this." His eyes were getting wider the longer this dragged on, he actually began edging away from Lily as he sensed a true fight coming on and he did not want to be in the middle of this.

Sirius was clearly getting angry now, his glare actually holding some real threats of violence if she kept this up, she shouldn't have dragged Remus into this! His voice came out more of a growl now, "that's not fair and you know it. Don't you take a shot at him when they're two completely different things."

"How?" Lily insisted, her eyes narrowing clearly showing she wasn't going to back down one bit. "You tell me how treating something as lesser than you as a slave isn't that far off the mark how werewolves are treated, like a pariah."

"OKAY!" James finally got out louder than them. The baby in Lily's lap, already squirming in agitation at all of the raised voices, actually began wailing then, causing Lily to break away her glare and begin soothing her son, admittedly still more flushed than usual. James wasn't looking much better himself, alternately scowling at his wife for making Remus clearly so uncomfortable, and Sirius refusing to back down and just let the matter go. "You two knock it off, there's no since acting like this towards each other. Let Remus finish this chapter, then you two can have it out somewhere where we don't have to hear it."

Lily finally convinced baby Harry to stop crying by then, sitting back into her seat, and still throwing haughty looks at Sirius, which he was returning. Harry and his father exchanged an uneasy look, James had been hoping that someone cutting them off would make one of them admit it was time to let this go but that clearly wasn't the case. Remus still looked a little shell-shocked, but at a nod from James he decided to keep going.

Reminding that Winky hadn't been paid. Molly cut into the argument by telling her children to go upstairs and make sure everything was packed.

'I should take notes' Harry mentally thought, still frowning at all four of them. He'd seen them argue before, and he never liked to watch it.

Harry got to his feet and followed Ron up to his room, where Pigwidgeon set up a flutter when they came in. Ron threw him an owl treat to get him to shut up, and Harry watched the little owl with worry as he said it had been over a week since he'd seen his own.

"You said yourself she normally takes twice that long," James sighed, running his hand through his hair in agitation, as if he needed another thing to worry about.

"Well yeah, but I don't know. I was kind of hoping since this one was kind of urgent, he'd find a way to get a reply quicker," Harry offered with a shrug.

Harry then asked Ron with real worry if Sirius had been captured.

Lily's skin tone went back to normal, and then a few shades paler in shock. This was not the first, nor certainly the last, time she'd been ticked off at Sirius for some careless comment he made, but she was suddenly struck once again by this horrid future they were listening to and realizing these little spats they had may be numbered. It didn't completely erase her agitation towards him, but it certainly made the want of cursing him lessen.

Remus flinched as he got that out, but Sirius quickly jumped in and soothed them all with a smug smile, "oh please, those numbskulls couldn't find the broad side of a barn. There's no way they're going to find me."

"You're confidence is instilling," James muttered, unable entirely to stop his leg twitching in agitation.

Ron scoffed at the idea, saying that news would be plastered all over the papers.

"And there's that," Harry sighed, trying to show that had comforted him a lot more than it had. He really didn't like to think of Sirius being captured, it set him on edge in the worst way, though thankfully he wasn't getting any kind of feeling about this. So this must mean it never happened to him, right?

Harry agreed for now, and went about packing away his stuff, most of which were his new school books and some supplies Mrs. Weasley had gotten him while he was away, grateful she'd remembered his potion ingredients as he'd been running low on some.

Lily just couldn't seem to erase a frown from her face this chapter, the expression only increasing as she got her own shot of envy at Molly doing all of this for her son. She'd have loved nothing more than for the simple task of going to Diagon Alley for her son while he and his father went to that Cup, and this little reminder it had been someone else smarted more than she'd been expecting it to with her current mood.

Ron was at his own trunk, and made a disgusted noise of surprise as he pulled out a maroon dress with lacy cuffs.

That was such a random thing that Remus finally broke the bad vibe of the room with a snort of mirth, all five of them cracking a real smile at Ron for some deranged reason being handed a lacy dress-robe.

Molly entered at that moment with some last minute clothes for them, and Ron tried to hand the dress to her, saying he'd gotten something of Ginny's by mistake, but Molly corrected that it was for Ron, his new dress robes. Ron yelped in shock, and Molly said that's what their school supplies list had said they'd need this year.

"Wonder why," James said just a tad too loudly, hoping to keep on this laughing mood as long as possible. "Think Hogwarts is hosting a dance?"

Harry felt a buzz ring through him, somehow knowing his dad wasn't too far off, but also getting the impression it wasn't an event he was fond of.

"I think it would be a nice idea," Lily couldn't help a little smile now, warming to the idea the more she spoke. "Perhaps a Valentine's day thing, I always said Hogwarts should indulge in more school events."

"From memory, every time they've tried, it's been a disaster," Remus snickered. "I've heard tale of this one time they tried a school play over some fairytale novel, that didn't end well."

"Won't know until Harry gets there," Sirius cut in, perhaps still being a little more surely then was called for, but still too agitated to admit it.

Lily shot him another glare, she had been trying to play nice, but clearly Remus took that as a hint to move on now while he still could.

Ron was still balking at the material, stating he'd never wear a thing like this! Molly cut him off by saying everyone wore them, his own father had some.

"Just like that eh?" James raised a brow in surprise, forcing some good mood at Sirius whether he wanted it or not. "I'd like to see that, I'm sure seeing his father in lace would make Ron feel better."

Harry gave a happy laugh at the image, while Sirius did crack a smile for James's benefit.

Ron grumbled he'd show off his bum before he put that on.

"That'll be a day at Hogwarts," Remus snickered.

Mrs. Weasley snapped he was being silly, Harry had gotten some too.

Causing Sirius to really laugh this time, along with the other three, while Harry went beat red in surprise and fear for what this could mean.

Harry began digging through his stuff in surprise, but came up with something much closer to his school uniform, except it was dark green.

"Which is how most dress-robes look," James cackled. "So I don't know what was running through Molly's head with Ron in mind."

The smile trickled off of Lily just a bit though, not having to think hard on why the idea of Molly picking out that for Harry would give her a pang of sadness.

Ron saw it and snapped why he hadn't gotten something that looked more like that, and Molly couldn't help a faint blush as she said she hadn't a lot of choosing on her budget for Ron's.

Causing all of them to stop smiling at once. It wasn't so funny now that they realized that.

Harry looked away in shame, knowing he'd happily split all his money with the Weasleys,

"Wish I'd just done it, they couldn't argue the point once it's in there," Harry muttered, fidgeting in place.

but he knew they would never take it.

"That's why you don't ask permission," James smirked.

Ron snapped he refused to wear his, and Mrs. Weasley snapped he could just go ahead naked then. Asking Harry to make sure he got a picture, she needed a laugh!

"It's nice to see Molly with a sense of humor," Sirius sighed.

She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, and at that moment Pigwidgeon began choking on a too large treat. Ron was grumbling that everything he owned was rubbish as he went to go unstick his beak.

Remus closed the book uneasily, looking between Sirius and Lily like he still expected a bomb to go off, being as clear and silent as he could the chapter was over, then looking longing at the door like he wanted to make a run for it while he could.

HPHPHPHP

Forewarning you guys now, the next chapter won't actually be a chapter, but an actual argument between Lily and Sirius about the house-elf topic. I set it up to much to just have them keep avoiding it, and since it keeps coming up so much in this book I decided I'd get their views up and as clear as possible now.

Thank you all as always for your endless support of this fic! No spoilers but, Oh My God The Cursed Child! I'm thinking about waiting until the next reading chapter and posting my opinion on it, or do you think that's a little cocky? Do you guys even really care what I think about it?

*Question offered by maana999. If you guys have any questions, even from one of the older books, or just something you'd like to point out and seen discussed, I implore you to say something, I love them all!

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #marauders #james Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

[tootiredmotel]

That damn front door (or “Hey, TK”)

Read on AO3 

Word count: 6.8k

After months of living with his dad, TK finally gets his own place, only to find that his next door neighbor is that handsome police officer he's been crushing on from afar.

---

“Any other day. Any day but today. Why today?” TK muttered as he turned off the ignition and pulled up his hoodie. “It never rains in Austin. Except for today. Why.” He sat there for just a minute, head against the back of his seat and fingers fiddling with the cord of his hood, all the while entranced by the drizzle hitting the pavement and the raindrops racing down his windshield. TK was never one to turn down a rainy day, he loved them, but only when he had the choice to stay in; Hulu or Netflix browsing and some hot chocolate, or perhaps practicing on the guitar that no one knew he owned, while any and all outside distractions were blocked out by the curtain of white noise that was a steady rainfall outside his window? A perfect day in his book. He’d get plenty of those in New York during the late summer, and he made the most of them on the few days he had off from work, but in the five months he’d spent in Austin, not once had there been a rainy day such as this one.

And it just had to be the day he was moving into his new house.

It was 6am on a Sunday, his one day off, and his dad had all but dragged him off the bed. Owen was otherwise occupied that day with a certain professor of psychology, but he had helped TK pack and stuff all the remaining boxes into the car the night before (not to mention, he was lending TK the Cherokee in the first place), so he couldn't exactly complain. He could still, however, curse under his breath as much as he wanted, which is exactly what he did as he willed himself to get out of the car and run back to the trunk. 

He was struggling to get it open (because of course, it was going to give him trouble now) when he heard another car pull up behind him. He hoped and prayed for lightning to strike him down then and there, as it would be less embarrassing than being seen for the first time struggling with his car by one of his new neighbors, but the trunk popped open before he could finish the thought; perhaps a little too suddenly, since it almost hit him in the chin. It was a day of almost-bad luck for him.

Half curiosity and half paranoia forced him to take a peek over his shoulder, but the rain and darkness of the early morning wouldn't let him make out the person in the driver's seat of the Camaro. The car was still running even though it was parked, meaning the person was maybe waiting for the rain to let up, therefore, they'd see TK's entire ordeal. So TK, being TK and looking to make an impression, took a box, then another, then piled a third on top before realizing his abysmal mistake. The tower of boxes came up to his nose if he held his head up.

With much effort and coordination between his left arm and his torso, he managed to shut the trunk, cursing his father for not investing in the hands-free feature for the car. He then heard the Camaro turn off behind him and the driver's door opening, prompting TK to resume his silent request for lightning to make quick work of him.

"Here, let me help you with that," He heard the person's voice through the spattering of the rain. Any second now, lightning, TK thought.

Not wanting to come off as rude, he turned around and let them take the top two boxes before immediately facing the ground to hide his face under his hood.

It was him.  It was the hot cop.

Every once in a while (multiple times in a week, if he was lucky), TK would spot this hunk of a policeman on calls or patrolling around town, but he’d never get the chance to talk to him. He was damn good at his job, and TK had once or twice seen him respond to the name 'Reyes'. That's all he knew about the man, apart from the fact that his patrol uniform was just tight enough around his shoulders to make TK stare without meaning to. And now, he knew that his smile could make even a day this bleak look brighter.

TK muttered a quick thanks as he briskly made his way towards the door of his new modern home, Hot Cop Reyes following close behind. Once under the small roof of the entryway, waiting for TK to open the front door, Hot Cop balanced the boxes against his torso with one hand and used the other to shake the rain out of his curls. He must've noticed TK staring out of the corner of his eye, because he smiled at him again, and TK turned away so as to not be blinded by the sight. He was fumbling to get the key into the knob when Hot Cop spoke up.

"Are you new to Austin?"

God, even his voice was hot. TK had heard him yelling orders before, from a distance, and that was enough to make his breath hitch; hearing him up close, casual and easy and right over TK's shoulder, it made the hairs at the nape of his neck rise. Good thing he was wearing a hoodie.

He snapped himself out of it to mumble a reply. "Uh no, I- I've um, I've been here a few months."

Smooth, TK.

He finally got the lock open, wondering why every single door that stood in his way that morning was out to get him, and led Hot Cop inside.

There wasn't much in the house yet; a couch, a wall-mounted TV, a half-stocked fridge, a couple of kitchen appliances, and enough in the bedroom and bathroom to last him until he could buy whatever was left with his next paychecks; but the cream and brown tones of the walls and the little but functional furniture he had made TK feel good enough about the small house to not make any excuses or apologies about not being settled in yet.

TK set his box down next to the door, and Hot Cop followed suit.

"I'm Carlos, by the way."

Finally, TK thought, turning to find Carlos with an outstretched hand and a tight smile that only broadened when he saw TK's face. There was a knowing glint in his eyes, and TK figured there was no more use in hiding, so he pulled back his hood and shook Carlos' (strong, callused, and yet, somehow, soft) hand.

"TK."

"Yeah." Carlos slightly tilted his head to the side. "You're fire department. You're pretty good at what you do."

TK's heartbeat picked up. Had Carlos (gosh, he loved knowing his name) noticed him too? Like, how TK had noticed him? He let the sliver of hope boost his confidence a bit. "You're not so bad yourself, Carlos."

  ---

Had he told Michelle to meet up at an earlier hour, Carlos didn't even want to think about what could've happened. Had he not stopped to check his mail on his way out, he might have already left. For all he knew, if he hadn't been at home that particular day at that particular time, TK could've burned down the whole neighborhood.

He just knew his heart dropped to his stomach when he heard his neighbor's fire alarm go off.

His feet were rushing him toward the house before his brain could even fully process the situation (something he would later mark up to police training instincts). Carlos quickly assessed the structure: he couldn't see any smoke, at least from the front of the house, and he could only detect a faint smell of burning from the front steps.

He tried the knob and found it locked. "TK! TK, I'm coming in!" 

With one hand reaching for his phone to call for help, he slammed his body against the door, knocking it open at the third try. He instantly found himself drowning in white smoke and the stench of burning... fish?

"TK!" He called out again.

A cough from the kitchen and a tired "Here," was his response.

Carlos made his way over, still staying low and covering his nose and mouth with his elbow. TK stood in front of the stove, cooking mitt and rag in his hands, defeated eyes on the blackened salmon in front of him. Mirroring his stance, Carlos stood next to TK, and after about two minutes could no longer suppress it. He chuckled.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm sorry," Carlos muttered behind his fist, laughing more.

"Dude, seriously, don't laugh," TK repeated, starting to smile himself.

Carlos leaned back against the counter, now on the verge of hysterical. "The fireman almost burns down his new house while cooking a fish, mano, that's hilarious."

TK playfully threw him the cooking rag, telling him to shut up in between chuckles that turned into coughs. After a good while of laughing along, TK exhaled. "I should probably open some windows."

"I think so, yeah," Carlos sarcastically played along, earning himself a cooking mitt to the shoulder.

As TK began opening windows around the house, the wheels in Carlos' head began to spin. He was a pretty experienced cook, and next to him on the counter were a couple more fish. Michelle would understand if he texted her that there was an emergency with his neighbor and he wasn't going to make it to eat before their shifts. 

He spoke up before his nerves had a chance to betray him. "Hey, TK."

It was weird. So very weird, Carlos thought. Weird how drawn he felt to this man. Weird how much he wanted to be in his company. They'd only spoken a few times since TK moved in, but spending time with him was just so easy. Carlos was... let's call it curious.

"You want some help with this, man?" He asked, inspecting the salmons.

TK looked over his shoulder as he opened the last of the windows, scanning Carlos up and down. He was probably taking note of his uniform, but Carlos could've sworn his gaze held something else. "Don't you have a shift?" He questioned, walking over.

"Not until 8. I usually leave about two hours early to run some errands." That was technically true. 

TK stopped mere inches in front of Carlos, leaning against the same counter. His eyes searched for something, scanning Carlos' expression (he figured TK was debating whether to let him stay or not); out of nature, and maybe looking to impress a little, Carlos straightened up to his full height, while still maintaining a soft (hopefully friendly-looking) smile. 

"Yeah alright." TK finally said, and Carlos couldn't help how his smile became wider as TK turned away from him and toward the fish. "You a good cook?"

"I would hope so", Carlos replied, shooting a quick apology text to Michelle, letting her know that he wasn't going to make it to the food truck today. "My tío Andrés and tía Valeria own a restaurant out in Luling."

"Where is that?" 

"About an hour away, Guadalupe county, right along the San Marcos river."

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's where you grew up?"

"God, I miss going to the river."

"Ya know, in New York, if you wanna swim, rivers aren't really an option. You either hit up a public pool or hike to a watering hole somewhere."

"Did you ever do that? Hike to a swimming hole?"

"A few times. There was this one weekend-"

And thus the conversation rolled on. Carlos spoke about his family, about growing up in Texas, about becoming a cop; TK spoke about his adventures in New York, about his dad, about all the nutjobs one has to deal with in the big apple (Carlos made sure to take note of him mentioning a guy he dated). The hour and a half it took to prepare the meal seemed to go by in a blink, the two of them chopping and stirring and working around each other like a surprisingly well-oiled machine, all the while exchanging stories and laughs and smiles and more than a few stolen glances. Every accidental touch and brush of skin in passing would send chills up Carlos' spine, and as he guided TK through properly cooking the salmon he stood just a bit too close behind him, but TK didn't seem to mind. 

Just as they put the finishing touches and seasonings on the dish, Carlos caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. "Shit."

"What is it, what did I do?" 

TK's panicked expression as he took a step back from the fish made Carlos chuckle. "Nothing man, it looks great," Carlos noticed TK exhale before he continued, "but I have to go."

"Wait, you're not gonna eat?"

But Carlos was already gathering his belongings. "I have 20 minutes to clock in, TK."

"Ah shit, I'm sorry dude, if I hadn'-"

"Don't worry about it, really." He turned around halfway to the door, walking a few steps backwards as he said, "I had fun."

"Yeah," TK smiled at him. "Me too."

Carlos smiled back and began showing himself out, but stopped one last time at the doorway, thinking about how to ask him to do this again without being too forward. "Hey, TK?" TK hummed in response, and Carlos threw him a look over his shoulder. "Next time you try cooking something new just... check if I'm home first?"

TK's toothy grin made his heart leap all over the place. "Will do, Carlos." 

Carlos kept smiling to himself even after shutting the door and rushing to his car; he thought he heard TK call out to him from inside that he was going to save him some leftovers.

Much later that night, his suspicions were confirmed. When he arrived home after his excruciatingly exhausting shift, at around 2am, he was met with two tupperware containers on his front steps, along with a quickly scribbled note on top that read:

"It turned out delicious. Could be thanks to you. Buen provecho! -TKS"

That night, Carlos enjoyed what was one of the best after-midnight meals he'd had in his life. It could've been thanks to their combined talents in preparing it that made the dish so good, but it could also have been because, the whole time, Carlos was thinking about the cute gray-eyed fireman right next door, about how much he loved spending time with him that afternoon, and about how much he wanted to spend some more.

  ---

"You've done a great job with this place TK." 

TK turned around and smiled at his dad, who was taking a look around from his seat at the counter.

"Learned from the best," He replied, making his way from the cupboard to the fridge.

"I know it's only been, what, three months?"

"And a half."

"Three and a half months," Owen corrected himself," but the house feels pretty empty without you, son."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it does," TK brought over their glasses and shot his dad a look, the one with a raised eyebrow that both generations had mastered. "Especially with how much time Professor Hottie has been spending there." 

After a sip of his water and a second to look at the ground, Owen replied, "No comment."

Their shared laugh was interrupted by a light knock on the front door, and a voice casually calling out "Hey, TK." Not a second later, Carlos let himself in, not taking his eyes off a large book in his hand as he put the spare key back in its spot, on top of the outdoor wall lamp. It was commonplace for them to do this by now, they'd walk into each other's houses with little to no announcement (which led to a couple of slightly awkward, partly naked encounters at the beginning, but neither of them made much of a fuss about it), whether to rant about something that happened on one of their calls, or to try out a new recipe one of them found, or simply to hang out. TK could've sworn, however, that he had told Carlos his dad was coming over for dinner that night, although, with everything they tend to talk about from day to day, he wouldn't even take his own word for it.

"So my tía came to town and I asked her to let me borrow this for a while," Carlos started as he shut the door behind him, and Owen sent his son an questioning look. "It has a bunch of my family's recipes, so I thought you and I could-" The instant he looked up and noticed the present company, Carlos shut the book closed and held it at his side, standing up straight and donning his stoic policeman face. "Captain Strand."

"Officer." 

At Carlos' deer-in-headlights expression, TK tried his best (and utterly failed) to contain a snort.

"At ease, Reyes." Owen continued, rather amused. "Surprised to see me here? You do know he's my son, right?"

"Yes, yes I did, sir. Um- I just didn't- I didn't know you would-" 

Now this was a sight to behold for TK. Carlos Reyes, embarrassed in front of his dad. He let a smile grow onto his face, not really to mock or poke fun at his friend, but more because he couldn't help it. Smiling around Carlos came naturally at this point; besides, the situation was kinda funny. 

"I'll just leave you to it."

TK's smile faltered, slowly vanishing as Carlos walked back to the front door. Owen seemingly noticed his son's expression, though, since he quickly spoke up while rising from his seat.

"Won't you join us?"

Carlos turned around with wide eyes, looking to TK for any indication as to what to reply. TK simply shrugged; why his dad was inviting Carlos to stay for dinner, he had no clue, but he didn't really have any reason to complain about it.

"I don't want to impose, sir."

"Please." TK watched as his dad motioned for Carlos to take a seat, before saying, "Call me Owen."

Carlos took tentative steps toward the counter. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Owen," He corrected again, "And of course, there's more than enough to go around! TK, tell him what we're having."

"Well, Carlos," TK sent his friend a teasing smile as he played along with his dad, reaching into the oven to pull out the appetizer. "The menu tonight consist of vegan cheddar and broccoli quinoa bites, to start-"

Owen's eyes lit up as he muttered, "I love me some quinoa."

"And in a bit, we'll be having some grilled asparagus and shiitake tacos." 

Owen leaned towards Carlos. "I'm a bit of a health nut, hope you don't mind."

"Sounds delicious, TK." Carlos stared pointedly at him, his eyes conveying 'I can't believe this', or maybe 'I can't believe you'. TK decided it was the former. In an attempt to provide a bit of comfort, TK softly squinted at him with an easy, closed-lip smile, hopefully letting him know there was nothing to worry about. 

That exchange must've taken longer than it seemed, because they were interrupted by Owen clearing his throat before speaking up.

"So, Carlos," He pointed at the book Carlos was still holding, "You were saying about the book?"

"Right." He placed the book on the counter. "My tía Valeria, she owns a restaurant, she has been holding on to this for years, and I asked her if she could let me borrow it for a few weeks." The book was old, handmade, and on the genuine leather cover were scraped the words 'Recetas de los Reyes'. "It has all of my family's best recipes going back four generations. I thought maybe..." He trailed off, smiling softly at TK. 

TK, seeing in Carlos' eyes that this meant more to him than he had initially let on, told him, "Carlos, I would love to try your family's recipes with you."

TK noticed Carlos' brow relax and his smile widen. He noticed how handsome his laugh lines were, how he bit his lip as he looked down. And he noticed how softly his hands moved across the book as he opened it and began scanning through, before realizing he was probably staring too much.

"You think there's anything vegan in there?" Owen asked, peering over the book.

"I highly doubt it, Guatemalan diet is ridiculously meat-heavy. I mean look at this, the first three recipes are for churrasco."

TK felt a certain warmth in his chest at the picture in front of him: his dad and Carlos wrapped up in conversation, sharing a moment and some quinoa bites. He watched them for a few seconds with a smile that he couldn't explain if he was asked about it, before taking an appetizer for himself and then finishing up the tacos.

 Once seated around the dining table, after already starting with the main dish, Owen spoke up.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been-"

"Oh, we met that same day I moved in," TK chimed in, having been ready since earlier for the 'how long have you known each other' interrogation. "We started hanging out a couple weeks later."

"Does he know about the fire alarm incident?" Carlos asked him.

"I'm sorry, the... fire alarm incident?" 

"That's a no, then."

TK and Carlos then launched into the story, followed by multiple recounts of cooking mishaps they'd had over the last three months: the dried out turkey, the spilled tres-leches batter (of which there were probably still remains in the nooks and crannies of the kitchen), and that one time they almost flooded Carlos' house, although that one was less about the cooking and more about the chaotic dish-washing that came after (to put it simply, they both ended up soaked and covered in soap suds). Owen himself had more than a few stories of his own, which earned him a lot of shushing and 'dad-that's-so-embarrassing’ facepalms from TK. 

 Just as their laughter was dying down from the story of TK getting reprimanded two days into the job for accidentally taking out six firefighters with the hose (five of which found the whole ordeal hilarious), Owen's phone chimed. TK began clearing the empty plates, Carlos quickly standing up to help, as his dad checked the message.

"Ah, I'm sorry boys, I'm gonna have to skip dessert. Michelle needs me to fill out some stuff at the firehouse. Says it's urgent." He stood up and held out his hand to Carlos, who handed TK the dishes he was holding so he could shake it. "It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Carlos."

"Likewise capt- Owen." They shared a chuckle. "Say hi to Captain Blake for me."

"Will do. I'll see you out there. TK," He called to his son, who had heard the exchange from the kitchen where he was dumping the mountain of plates he'd had to carry to the sink. "Walk me out?"

As he made his way back, Carlos passed him and let him know he'd get started on the dishes. TK thanked him and approached his father, who put an arm around him as they walked to the front door. 

"You found a good one, TK." 

With a mystified chuckle, he asked him, "What do you mean, dad?"

"I mean I like him." Owen looked back at Carlos and contentedly put his hands in his pockets. He turned back towards TK as he opened the door. "You've had much worse boyfriends."

TK almost choked. Simultaneously, he heard Carlos fumble and drop a dish in the sink, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards. 

"And none with a better ear apparently." Owen commented.

TK could feel his ears, his face, his entire body probably, heat up at the thought, before quickly correcting his dad without meeting his eyes.

"Dad, he's not m- we're not-" He couldn't even get the words out, but his dad knew him so well that he didn't have to.

"Really?" Owen whispered incredulously. "Could've fooled me. I mean with how much you've been talking to each other while on calls, all the looks and the smiles-"

"Goodbye dad!" TK gave him a quick hug before practically shoving him out the door. He heard him quickly call out "See you at work, son!" before the slam of the door cut him off.

Shit, was he right? Did they come off as a couple? Maybe there was a certain domestic vibe to them, but that's because they mostly hung out at their houses! Had his team gotten the same impression? Surely, there would've been a lot more teasing if they had...

When he noticed he was lingering at the door just a bit too long, he made his way back to the kitchen. Carlos kept washing the dishes as if he’d heard nothing, so TK decided to just shove it to the back of his mind for now and tried to restore the mood.

"Ya know, maybe it's a good thing my dad left," He remarked casually as he pulled dessert out of the oven. "Or else there wouldn't have been enough chocolate chip zucchini bread to go around."

He heard Carlos behind him quickly put down the dishes and, in a split second, he was standing next to TK, drying his hands and ready to pounce on the small loaf of bread. TK had to all but run away from him to get the first bite, and they ended up sitting on the counter chairs munching on the entire thing.

 "This how you thought you'd spend your Tuesday night?" TK spoke up after a while.

Carlos laughed into his beverage before putting it down. "Having a vegan dinner with the captain of the 126? No, definitely not.” He took a bite with a smile. “Thought it'd be you, me, a bit of google translate, and a growing grocery list."

TK couldn't help but grin at the domesticity of the thought. 

"The food was amazing though," Carlos commented, mouth still half full from the last bite of bread that TK let him have. "And your dad's a fun guy." 

"Yeah. Trust me, he knows. Goes to his head sometimes."

"No me digas." Carlos laughed. 

TK loved hearing his bits of spanish come out here and there, and proceeded to ask with a smile. "What's that mean?"

"It's like saying 'you don't say', but not... in a sarcastic way."

At that moment, TK realized that he’d found himself noticing more little things about Carlos that night than he ever had before. Like how much he gestured with his hands when he explained something, and how he tended to puff his chest out when he did so. Like how his right eyebrow always sat just a little higher than the left. Like how wickedly sharp his jaw was and how his eyes seemed to sparkle when he laughed. He let his mind and his gaze wander, giving his dad's comment the benefit of the doubt, before cutting himself off. There was no way, something would've happened between them by now. He couldn't believe the man.

"Who? Your dad?" It was then TK realized he'd said that last remark out loud. "What are you thinking about, TK?" Carlos asked, leaning his elbow on the counter and letting his head rest on his shoulder, eyes and attention fully fixated on TK.

It made his heart race, it made his guts turn, but he figured there was no harm in talking about it.

"My dad, he uh, he thought-” He cleared his throat, focused on the plate of crumbs in front of him. “Well, he assumed we were.. a thing, I guess." It wasn't until he fully made his way through the sentence that TK let himself look up at him. Carlos momentarily raised his eyebrows as he blinked, as if in realization, before donning a slight smile and looking away from TK.

"Right. Yeah, I thought I heard something like that."

"And that's..." TK searched Carlos' gaze, prompted him to finish the sentence, practically begging him to voice his thoughts about it. "Ya know, it's..."

Carlos looked back up at him, seemingly searching for something too, before letting his gaze fall again. "It's... it's ridiculous."

"Is it? Is it so ridiculous that I do want to date you? That I kinda want to kiss you right now? Would it be so ridiculous if we were a thing?" These were all the things going through TK's mind at that moment, all the things he could've said, instead of feigning a chuckle in agreement, saying "Right? The guy's crazy." 

TK hoped and prayed he wasn't giving away how much his chest hurt as he asked his friend (and nothing more), "Don't you have an early shift tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Carlos exhaled as he checked his watch. "Who needs an agenda when I have a TK?" He lightly patted TK on the arm as he stood up and made his way out, exchanging a quick and quiet "See you."

 And just like that, all was back to normal, or so TK had hoped it would be. The next day at the station, various coworkers asked him what was wrong, if he was okay (Judd even pulled him aside and asked if he'd had some sort of relapse). The rest of the week he tried his best to seem as upbeat as possible, though that wasn't very hard with friends like Mateo, Marjan, and Paul. Owen did approach him however, and asked him if everything was okay between him and Carlos, having noticed that they weren't talking as much on the field. TK blew it off as "they were quick calls, we didn't have much time" while fully aware that his dad knew him better than that, but thankfully he dropped it. TK had no choice to be aware of the fact that he was, indeed, avoiding Carlos as much as possible, and he hated it. Hated that he was doing it, and hated that Carlos had become such a big part of his life that no one would let him ignore it. He hated that he needed Carlos, hated that he wanted him, and hated, most of all, that Carlos had given no indication of feeling the same way.

  ---

"Chica, I don't know what to do." Carlos rubbed his face in his hands, throwing himself back against his couch. "He's been avoiding me all week, something changed that night."

"You talk to him, Carlos," He heard Michelle's voice through his phone, which lay on the coffee table in front of him. "You will not know what changed, if anything, until you ask him."

"What if he just doesn't want anything to do with me anymore?"

"You said things were going great with him, that you were building up to asking him out, right?”

“Yeah, I was,” Carlos emphasized the word. “But then when his dad assumed we were dating, he acted like he couldn’t bear the thought.”

Carlos heard Michelle sympathetically click her tongue before speaking. “Oh, I’m sorry Carlos.”

“No it- it’s fine. If he doesn’t like me like that then, that’s okay, I just-” He fiddled with one of the cords of his sweatpants as he (figuratively and literally) swallowed his pride. “I miss him.”

Michelle allowed a few seconds of silence before saying, “I still think you should try talking to him.” As she spoke, Carlos began noticing a faint sound. “Maybe you clear things up, or maybe things slowly get back to norm-”

"Wait, wait, shh." Carlos cut her off. The sound was music, coming from outside, toward the back of his house. "Sorry, let me call you back, Michelle."

Without letting her reply so much as an "okay", Carlos hung up the call and began making his way to the back door to investigate. As the music became louder, he made out that it was a single guitar, and the sound was too bright and clear to be coming from a speaker. He walked out onto the small, board-fenced backyard that he didn't use much, with only a couple of chairs and a barbecue grill, and quietly followed the sound toward his left. He stopped in front of the fence where his yard met TK's and stood there for a second, entranced by the melancholic, unfamiliar melody, the strings becoming softer and softer until there was only silence in the early evening air.

Carlos waited a few seconds before knocking on the fence. "Hey, TK?" he called over gently so as to not startle him.

He figured it didn't really work when he heard a loud exhale on the other side. "Yeah?" The voice he'd missed hearing so much replied.

"Was that you playing?"

TK took just a little too long to answer. "No?"

"Liar." Carlos chuckled. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah, you know where the key is."

Carlos felt a clench in his chest when he noticed the apprehension in TK's voice, but he turned around to go to his house anyway. He stopped short when he noticed the stack of chairs against the wall though, and decided that there was a quicker way to get there. 

He took the chairs (thankful that they were on the sturdier side) and carried them over to where he was previously standing. He used them as a step to boost himself over the 7 foot fence, landing swiftly on the other side before turning to a surprised TK.

"Who says I need the key?"

TK laughed, clearly amused, using the hand he had propped up on the guitar to cover his face. Carlos grinned at the sight.

"You know, for security purposes, those should really be higher," Carlos said, smoothing out his t-shirt as he walked over to TK. "That was way too easy."

"You're a show-off."

"Yeah, maybe a little."

Carlos took a look around TK's much nicer backyard. There was a small, still barely-grown vegetable garden to one side, and close to the house was one of those wooden table and bench sets. This was where TK was sitting, on top of the table with a black acoustic guitar in his lap, his hair a fluffy mess under one of his hundreds of hoodies. The last moments of golden hour upon him made his skin gleam and his cloudy eyes twinkle, and Carlos only noticed he was staring when TK scooted over to let him sit. He chose to sit on the bench rather than on the table, letting TK have space if he so wanted it.

"You never told me you could play."

"I’ve never told anyone I can play." TK responded, starting on another, sweeter, simpler melody. "Not even my dad."

"And he never found out?” Carlos propped his elbows up on the table behind him, resolving to watch the sunset overhead. “Even while you were living together?"

"This is the first time I’ve taken it out since we got to Austin."

Carlos tore his eyes away from the swirl of colors in the sky to shoot TK a shocked glance, or what was meant to be only a glance. Once his eyes landed on him, he couldn't rip them away, as if spellbound by TK, who was casually focused on the chords he was playing, chords that seemed infinitely complex to Carlos.

"I guess some people just don't lose their touch." Carlos remarked more to himself than anything, but it made TK smile, which made him grateful to have said it out loud. Carlos had long realized he'd probably do anything if it meant making TK smile. He watched him for a little longer, still unfamiliar to the melodies his fingers carried, and let him finish the song before speaking up again. "I always wanted to learn. Guitar, piano, something." He turned back towards the sky, now darker but just as colorful as it was three minutes before. "I was always taking care of my siblings, and then I got into the academy so young, I just... never really had the chance, I guess."

After a few seconds, Carlos noticed TK silently handing him the guitar from the corner of his eye. He took it and placed it on his lap as TK shifted from his seat on the table to the bench, a leg on either side of it, facing Carlos. He took Carlos' left hand in his own, positioning it on the arm of the guitar. He slowly and carefully placed Carlos' three middle fingers where they needed to go, one on the first fret of the third string, and the others on the second fret of the fifth and fourth strings.

"Now strum," He told him, and Carlos did so. It rang out beautifully. "That's E major." A bright and youthful smile grew onto Carlos' face.

TK repositioned Carlos' fingers into a new chord, an A major, now on the second fret of the second, third, and fourth strings. He strummed again, his smile widening and his insides flipping at the thrill of both making music and of TK's hand on his own (not to mention his knee against his thigh, and his breath on his shoulder; pretty much every bit of proximity was driving Carlos crazy). 

Still, he played on under TK's tutelage, and soon enough was strumming what could be considered a song after learning a third chord (D major). After a while of practicing a specific progression, once he was finally getting the hang of it, TK began humming over his shoulder. Then he started singing softly, right by Carlos' ear and sending chills down his spine.

"If I lay here... If I just lay here... Would you lie with me and just forget the world..." 

"Hey, I know this." Carlos managed to say without breaking the strumming, allowing TK to keep singing with an amused smile on his face as he watched how much Carlos was enjoying himself.

"I don't quite know... How to say... How I feel..."

Before jumping into the next verse, Carlos turned to TK. He was still bobbing his head along to the strumming, but he managed to join into the lyrics.

"Those three words..." They sang in unison. "Are said too much..." Neither of them could help their gazes traveling down to the other's lips, only a few inches away from each other. "They're not enough..."

When the chord change for the chorus came, Carlos stumbled and simply stopped playing. The sour notes lingered in the air around them, like something in wait, in need of being fixed. Something to be cleared up and made right. A crackle of energy, of magnetism, yearning to be fulfilled.

Finally, it was TK that uttered the words "Fuck it," cupping Carlos' face and softly kissing him. Carlos took a mere millisecond to respond, carefully putting down the guitar and turning to pull him closer. The kiss was gentle, slow, careful, both of them savoring every movement and change as if it was the most beautiful melody on Earth. Their lips fit perfectly into each other as if in harmony, and every touch was like a new instrument joining into the grandest symphony ever heard.

They eventually parted, both repeatedly coming back for smaller kisses until they were left leaning their foreheads together. TK's hands still slowly roamed Carlos' torso, while Carlos caressed TK's cheeks and hair. 

"Guess my dad wasn't so crazy after all..."

Laughing, Carlos let his head drop onto TK's shoulder, which TK took as an opportunity to bury his nose into the crook of Carlos' neck and wrap his arms around his shoulders. Almost instinctively, Carlos returned the embrace, and that was, perhaps, what felt the most right. How perfectly their bodies fit into each other, how blissful and comforted they both felt in the other's arms, and they both just wondered why the hell this hadn't happened until now. They stayed there until the sky was almost fully dark, and it was Carlos who pulled away and stood up in front of TK.

He held out his hand and cleared his throat. "Tyler Kennedy Strand,"

"Wait, how do you know-"

"Irrelevant," Carlos interrupted his question, to which TK responded with an eye roll and a grin. "Tyler Kennedy Strand, will you go out with me?"

TK took his hand and stood up in front of him. "Yes, Carlos Reyes, I will go out with you." He intertwined their fingers and brought his other hand up to the back of Carlos' neck, kissing him again with just a little more fervor than before, running his fingers through his hair. TK pulled away only to whisper: "Not tonight though."

#tarlos #fanfic #911 lone star #911 ls #tk x carlos #you might want to listen to chasing cars by snow patrol before reading this #tk strand #carlos reyes #fic #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #owen strand #michelle blake #neighbor au #friends to lovers #meet cute #cooking #guitar #one-shot #gay #lgbtq #gen writes

[honeyymistt]

I know this may be a lot, but I need an outside perspective. I have a friend who I was really close with, I trusted him more than anyone else, and we talked about everything. He knew more about me than anyone. We were best friends for a year and eventually we started an open fwb relationship. Things were great for a while, but then he got upset with me for hanging out with other guys, even though that was within the bounds we had laid out and discussed pretty extensively because we had a really good setup for open communication. He brought it up once near the end of last semester but told me not to stop seeing other people because he didn't want to say he wanted to be exclusive and then change his mind on me and have caused me to cut other guys off. I listened to him but cooled it on talking to other guys because I didn't want to hurt him. We went home for the summer (but he lives in the town where our university is so really he stayed there) and we talked every day like we have since we became friends and we facetimed every night just like we had over winter break (before the fwb situation). I wasn't really talking to other guys until I went on a date with a guy I met on tinder and felt too scared to say no to when he asked me to hang out with him so I got coffee with the guy. Apparently, me talking to other guys bothered him more than he had told me, and instead of talking to me about it, he went and started exclusively dating a girl he had known for a week. He waited a week and a half after they decided this to tell me and, when he did, he admitted that part of him did it to hurt me. I don't want to lose him because I've never trusted someone as much as I used to trust him, but it hurts to know that any part of him was willing to hurt me to any degree especially for someone he barely knows and admits that he's not even sure he really wants to date. I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust him the same way again. We go to a small university so I won't be able to avoid him, but still being friends is proving difficult. I have a process for forgiveness, and I'm usually pretty good at moving on, but I've never had to do those things with the expectation that I will still be close with the person after. I don't forgive him yet, but I am trying to work on it because I know we can't be friends still if I don't. I've seen him once since he told me because he only told me two days before he was scheduled to fly out to visit me and at that point, I couldn't ask him to cancel his flights. In the two days before he arrived I was so anxious I barely ate and I was so angry I thought about just trying to make him miserable the whole time he was visiting. We ended up talking about it because he kept pushing me because he knew I was upset and he didn't want to be miserable the whole time he was visiting. Things were a bit better after that. It was really weird to be around him and we don't know how to interact because both of us are normally super affectionate with our friends, but we're afraid of crossing lines since we used to be fwb and other people (namely the girl he's dating) might read into it. We just don't know where the lines are/should be in a situation like this. We've had a few conversations about everything so I know that he really regrets what he did and that this situation is painful and difficult and confusing for him too, but that is only making it harder for me to figure this all out. It hurts to be around him because I miss how comfortable and safe it used to feel and how much I trusted him. We talk less now since he's back home and I have the paranoia of 'maybe he actually hates me' that I used to never have with him but have always had with other friends. I just don't know if it's worth the emotional labor it requires if I'm just working towards a worse relationship than we had before. I don't want to talk to my other friends about the details of this because, like I said, it's a small school so stuff gets around. I also don't want them to treat him differently because I know that would hurt him. Any advice on

how to navigate all this? Am I doing the right thing in staying friends with him?

oh gosh, i just want to give you a big hug :( this sounds really challenging mentally and i'm so sorry that you don't feel comfortable with talking about this with your uni friends. you can always come to me <3

to actually give my perspective on this, i've never been in a fwb situation so i'm not sure how helpful my advice will be but i'll try my best! i'm not gonna lie, there are a lot of things in here that popped out to me as major red flags: him not wanting you to talk to other guys even though that was allowed, you feeling like you needed to cut off other guys, him not being able to communicate his hurt/anger/betrayal (?), etc., him dating a girl (partially to hurt you) and then not telling you. all of these are things that display his immaturity in your fwb situation. he messed up pretty bad and there's no denying that. you are totally valid in your feelings of confusion about whether or not you want to continue your friendship with him because he hurt you and he was unfair to you.

to offer another perspective on this whole situation, i think that not a lot of people will admit to their mistakes. not a lot of people will admit that part of them did something to hurt you. and yes, he did do some very bad things, but like you said, he feels sorry for what he did and i think that he's going to learn and mature from his faults.

i'm all for second chances in relationships (platonic, romantic, platonic & romantic, etc.) but the final say is ultimately up to you because i think that deep down, you already know whether or not you want him in your life. currently, i think that there are two ways that you could navigate this. there are definitely more choices but these are the two that i think are best.

1. you have 1 conversation with him where you lay everything out on the table. you both give each other a chance to say your side of the story, your true feelings, your mistakes (there may be some things that you did that were hurtful to him that you hadn't noticed or that he didn't communicate) and you both put your thoughts together on how to move forward. what do you both need from each other to get to how you were before? i know that you mentioned that you've had a few conversations with him before but do you feel like you held back a bit? are there things that were left unsaid? if there are, then it's likely that he feels the same way. i would suggest talking out this whole thing with him one last time if this is the case.

2. if continuing your friendship with him is causing you stress to the point of not sleeping or eating, i would say to distance yourself. if you need a temporary break from each other to reflect on what you did and/or recover from what was done to you, then do it. there's no rush in being friends again. there's this quote that i saw awhile and it said: "A break from someone will either make you realize how much you truly miss/love them or how much peace you have without them."

people make mistakes all the time and sometimes you ask yourself what you or the other person was thinking before doing it and the truth is, they probably weren't and they definitely weren't thinking about the potential consequences; but there's this tweet that i saw and it said "y'all be beating yourself up about the mistakes you've made in the past as if you been here twice or something. this is your first time living this life. give yourself some grace as you've learned to navigate through it. you don't know what you don't know til you know better." (IamKiraJ via twitter) i think the same thing goes towards other people's mistakes. they don't know what they don't know until they know better. you can call me too forgiving, but i think he knows better now. he has been good friend to you for a long time and i'm sure he's done a lot of good in your life. it's just up to you to decide whether or not the bad that he did was a deal breaker.

#chat with honeyymistt #there was also something that popped out to me #you said that you wonder if he actually hates you and i dont think he does!!! i think that part of him hates himself for how he treated you #if you decide to forgive him and continue this friendship make sure its because you want to and not because he wants you to #he should consider himself very lucky if he earns your forgiveness #but deep down i think you know what you want to do!!! i hope that my message offered a different perspective on this whole situation #and gave you some clarity on what your next step should be #sending you love and strength and happiness <3

[new2otomelol]

Maid to the Rescue - A KBTBB Fanfic - Part 4

Hey guys! Here’s my update. Thanks to those that read this! Love you all. Sorry it isn’t that great. Voltage owns the rights to KBTBB, I’m just writing a fanfic :-)

"What the heck kid, where ya been?!" Mamoru continues the line of questioning. So far, I have not been able to get a word in. The atmosphere in the vehicle is palpable and electric. I know the decision I made a year ago would affect others around me, but I honestly did not know what to expect. "Guys, please, slow down. I know and I apologize for not..."

"I mean, princess, you're like a badass all of the sudden! Baba interrupts. I slow down the vehicle as we near our location and enter a covered garage. "Guys, please, I will explain, but I need you to quickly put on the jackets, coats and hats that are in the back of the trunk. Come on, follow me."

The men do as told, but their expressions give away their state of confusion and unease. I hold on to the roof of the car and help propel myself to the trunk. Eisuke quickly comes around from the passenger side and helps me walk to the back. "Thank you..." I try to tell him, but notice he can't seem to stare me in the face.

I remove my arm from Eisuke and open the trunk. "Alright men, each bundle has a name on it, please put on your clothing. We will be walking to the bar where you will meet people from my team and we will go our separate ways to the same location. Mamo and Ota, you will ride with Net. Soryu and Baba, you will ride with Lucy. Eisuke, you will ride with me."

"Just who are these people, Lisa?" Eisuke asks me, I could hear the frustration in his voice. I know he's hurt and wants to know more, but I hope he can understand me better soon. "These are people that helped me tremendously through a tough time in life. They have assisted me in coordinating this operation to rescue you guys, so please, trust me in this."

"I know, but the bullet missed a major artery. It's just a matter of removing it and stitching the wound. I need to clean my leg a bit and we can go. Can you help by supporting me?" He grunts as if frustrated, but his eyes show nothing but concern and a bit of sadness. I proceed to clean the wound with some wipes left in the car, Nix is a gem for thinking of everything.

I turn around and proceed to remove my jacket, bullet proof vest and long sleeve shirt. I begin to pull and tug at my black dress that was hidden underneath all my protective clothing. I unbuckle my belt as well as Eisuke's belt from my leg and remove the pants. "Ngh... ouch, ouch, ouch..." as a bit of the burning sensation is felt on the leg, but the blood has slowed, thanks to the bullet still being imbedded. "What the heck do you think you're doing?" Eisuke rushes to my side, quickly helps pull my dress down and checks my leg. "That looks bad."

"I don't think you should be walking." Eisuke continues with his concern for me. "Yeah kid, ya don't look good." Mamo follows suit. "So what now?" Soryu asks. I manage to finish clearing the blood from my leg and step into my stilettos. Eisuke hovers near me to ensure I don't fall.

"Guys, this is not the first time I've been shot, I'll be fine. Now, let's go..." I tried to explain more; however, I shouldn't have mentioned my previous experience as Eisuke got angrier and scoffed. He takes my arm a bit more harshly and places it around his shoulders. "I should carry you." He says. "No, it would be too suspicious. Let them think I'm drunk and that you're helping me walk."

It takes a few minutes to arrive to our location as we parked near the bar. The smell of smoke instantly reaches us as we open the door. There are some people at the bar tending to their drinks, others playing pool and some just conversing with their friends. Oldies play from a juke box in the corner combining with the loud noise coming from the activity. It is a small bar that can be considered a hole in the wall, but it is exactly what we need to remain unnoticed.

The guys don't seem too impressed, but then again, they may also just be tired and hurt. "What is this dump?" Ota says. Never mind, they're not impressed.

"It's the dump where you meet us and leave safely." A short, blond-haired and curvylicious Lucy states as she approaches us. "Hi guys, I'm your date for tonight." She winks at Soryu and Baba. She struts her stuff in her form-fitting black dress and interlocks her arms with the men. "Go along with it guys, just pretend I'm your conquest and that you're driving me home, try to sell it though, think 'managetrois." She whispers. Luckily, the guys nod and move quickly with her, Baba takes her cue as she hugs both of them by the waist and he leans into her neck and kisses her ear. Lucy giggles away as they disappear by the exit.

"That leaves you and me Eisuke. Like I said, I'll pretend to be drunk and you're taking me home. Our car is parked to the side of the bar." He takes my arm once again and places it around his shoulders. We walk out of the bar as the cold night air greets us once again.

From the bar, a young, red-headed man turns from his seat and approaches us, "Alright losers. I'm your exit!" Net says to Ota and Mamoru. "Just pretend that you've had a shitty night and we're all buddies heading out." Mamo and Ota look annoyed, but go with it anyways, no other choice.

I giggle and swagger during our walk as he keeps his head down and out of sight. We get to a small red car and get in. I take out my phone and place it on the dash as I activate my GPS. "Here's the coordinates. Go ahead and drive the speed limit to the location. Keep your head covered with the hat."

"Why the secrecy, Lisa?" I sigh and take a deep breath. Time to tell him all of the truth. "Your enemy is the prime minister." Eisuke's hands tighten around the wheel, his knuckles almost turning white. "Why?" He manages to grunt out.

"A few years ago, when the auctions started, you had a tryst with a business woman. Turns out, she was one of his lovers, and boy did he love her. He was infuriated with you and so hurt by her that he sold her to an organization called AID to try and cover up their tryst. Mamoru had been involved in the investigation and he got too close to comfort. Should people discover the connection to AID and all the money he's received from them, it would be catastrophic. Ryuun also had ties to the prime minister and wanted assistance to get the Dragons back. The prime minister didn't mind, he wants more power, that means Soryu would have to be removed from the picture."

Eisuke exhales and clears his throat. "Okay, I get it. But why all this running around?" I shake my head and try to get the dizziness to stop. I really need to take care of this wound soon. "Because he has access to all of Tokyo, cameras, media, you name it. The helicopter captured footage of us being chased and we were able to hack and download the file before it was erased by the prime minister's team. We also don't want him to trace you and the guys until we get all this stuff together and expose the bastard, so we have to erase your tracks as best as possible, hence all this running around. Where we are headed to, you will be safe for a couple of days."

Eisuke looks frustrated, but pensive as he takes all of the information in. "There are also connections to Nishina, Ozaki as well as the fact that Baba has stolen a few items and he just really doesn't like Ota. He refers to you guys as the rat pack and hates that you're gaining ground worldwide with your businesses. He's hired many to go after you, the masked man being the most loyal. My group as been investigating the prime minister for a while now. He has also ruined the life of the young man you met earlier due to his personal ties to him; not to mention the disappearance of his twin brother."

I feel so tired and just wish I could close my eyes. "HEY! Don't you dare! Stay with me Lisa! I just found you again, you're not leaving me!" I shake my head again to wake myself up and slap my cheeks a little. "I know, I know, sorry, I'm just tired. Eisuke, I'm really sorry for not having kept in contact with you all. I wasn't mad at you and didn't disappear for those reasons."

"I thought about that at first." Eisuke says. "But I found it strange that I couldn't find you, not even after a few days, then that turned into weeks and here we are... I thought you were kidnapped, or worse, killed, because of me!" the last line he states with a bit more anger to it.

"Listen, I never knew what we were to each other. One thing is for sure, I knew for certain, and still know, that I love you with all my heart. What I did wasn't to hurt you or anyone else." Eisuke slams his hand on the steering wheel. "Really? then why, WHY did you do it?" I wasn't expecting this much anger, but I have to let it all out, as calmly as possible.

"If you researched me, then you know about me, my family and how everything looks from the outside. A pretty family portrait on the surface with a disturbing story underneath. My mother was a caring person in the beginning, but slowly she changed. To sum it all up, Narcissistic Personality Disorder is a real thing and she has it. I was criticized on a daily basis, nothing was ever good enough for her. She pitted my father against me and the years of emotional/verbal abuse took their toll."

I take a deep breath as all these memories I had burried deep inside come to surface. "She started developing paranoia or schizophrenia, I can't remember which one, and it got worse. I grew up with the notion that I wasn't going to be worth getting to know, that no man would want me, as she put it. I was too stupid, simple, ugly, you name it." The car turns on to a different road and I close my eyes for a second.

"HEY! Stay with me, keep talking!" Eisuke wakes me from my haze and I continue. "When things happened at the Tres Spades, it had barely been a couple of months after I had left my house to be on my own. My father became her next target and I didn't have the strength to fight anymore. I later learned many things through friends and co-workers about these conditions and it helped me put it all into perspective... That day when you 'broke up' with me publicly, I decided to build the person I wanted to be. So I left in search of new things and found a friend who was able to teach me so much about everything, especially computers."

"LISA! You better fucking stay awake and complete that thought!" I come to again and begin to laugh. "All in all Eisuke, I love you and I hope you love me as well, even after a year, after I left. Please don't be mad at me, but I'm just sleepy, didn't get much sleep last niiight..." and with that, my world goes black.

"It took time, but I was able to rebuild my confidence, become stronger and forgive. I needed to let go of the anger, hurt and frustration from all those horrible years with her. I accepted the fact that I didn't really have a mother and that she would not change and just let it go and continue to pray for her safety and health. My father, unfortunately, was not able to make it after he got seriously ill and passed away a few months ago." I take a deep breath and lay back on my seat. "Eisuke, there hasn't been a day I don't think about you. I just wanted to be able to be at my best, filled with confidence and not rely on you for my happiness. I want to be your partner, your friend, your support..." I start to see black spots for a second.

#kbtbb fanfiction #kbtbb fanfic #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb baba

[narrators-journal]

Life after the fact

CW: mentions of some nasty stuff related to kids.

First part: Here

For the next few days you were a mess. Between the morning sickness and the guilt of having murdered someone, you were throwing up every bit of food or water you tried to digest, every shadow and small noise in your crappy, dirt cheap apartment at night sent you into a break down, sickened more with fear and the force of your sobs when you got overwhelmed. You never felt like you could relax, everything was nerve-wracking, and especially when you went outside. However, as the weeks passed, you got a handle on your fears. You weren't exactly okay, but you forced yourself to adjust and move on as best you could. As if the paranoia wasn't enough, you also had to deal with being pregnant on your own now. Oh god, I should've just stayed with Illumi! What the hell am I supposed to do about this whole thing?! You thought one night as you sat in your windowless bathroom, curled around the toilet, vomitting from the nerves, nausea, and violent sobbing, I wish I could just go back...apologize and just go back to the way things were. you lamented as you sucked in shakey, cold breaths that burnt your throat. It wasn't like you'd planned this far ahead, your escape attempt was a heat of the moment thing, fuelled by the fear of what might happen after you gave birth and the gut feeling that your partner would doom your child to a life akin to his own, which was definitely not a normal, healthy, or happy one. So, now you were left to suffer the last, stubborn thrashes of winter alone, in a crappy little apartment with walls so thin you could feel the last icy wind of winter when it blew, struggling with pregnancy symptoms and relentless paranoia of what will happen if or when Illumi finds you. After that night, you decided it was best to do what you could to lessen your stress, but that was easier said then done. For one, no matter the steps you took to ensure your safety, taking jobs great distances from where you live, whipping up a fake identity to use for work, limiting how often you went out, you could never fully convince yourself that you were safe from the Zoldyck family. Another thing that stopped you was your financial situation. You managed to nab a bit of cash from the car you'd stolen from the butler, using most of it on a cheap car, but, while a reasonable amount still, you still ended up taking up a job as a maid-for-hire of sorts, and usually your employers would tip you terrifically when they figured out you were pregnant, but with the gas bill, food, and the sketchy amount of rent you had to pay, you had little to nothing left to save for a better place or the baby. Finally, you realized after looking into it at one of your employer's homes during your break, that you were too far along in your pregnancy for termination, since at that point you were somewhere in your fourth month, so that left you with almost no other option than to find a way to give birth. After that, you just settled for having the child at home to avoid the paper trail a doctor's office would need and than leaving the baby at a church. They'll take the kid in and put it into foster care, which is a safer gamble than the Zoldycks. You thought, wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes as you drove to the day's job. For the remainder of the day, you focused on your work, cleaning up toys, doing and folding laundry, making beds, the usual duties for this particular household, and did your best to not think about your past. That is, until you heard someone knock on the door while you were upstairs mopping the bathroom. The sound instantly sent ice down your spine. It felt as if the world skipped a beat in time with your heart, but at another knock, you took a deep breath and inched towards the distant door. Your heart thundered in your chest so hard that it hurt, but you picked your way down, staying away from the windows and doing your best to move stealthily with the slowly growing bump of your stomach until you could look out of the front door's peep hole. Thank the heavens it was simply your employer, a neatly dressed, glasses clad woman who you'd heard was a lawyer or CEO of some sort, not an assassin. So, just as she gave a third, more impatient knock, you opened the door,             "I'm so sorry ma'am! I couldn't move too quickly to get to the door sooner," you said, not meaning to sound near hysterics, but at least that made you sound super apologetic as the woman huffed in annoyance,             "It's fine, I just had my entire day upheaved." she said, walking in and you swiftly shut the door, not thinking much of the figure you saw standing at the roadside from the corner of your eye, she commonly had other helpers here when you were, it was likely just a gardener or someone to bring in her bags. "First, I burn myself with coffee at 6 am this morning, than I have to drive three damned hours to the airport just to find out my business trip was cancelled because the client decided to cut ties with my work! Ugh, don't get me started on tr-" The woman paused her ranting and hair adjustments suddenly, looking at you with concern and confusion on her dark-skinned face, "Are you alright, dear? Why are you crying?" Her voice was gentle, all annoyance gone when she'd realized you were upset, but it still made you jump and feel a small spark of guilt at the show of vulnerability, something you'd been fighting to repress. But your emotions had been so unpredictable recently, it only made sense that you failed.            "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me," you sniffed, scrubbing at your tears as she put a reassuring hand on your back and led you to a chair, letting you sit down,            "Don't worry about it, I just thought I was the one to upset you. Are you sure you're alright?" You nodded as she looked you over, looking so parental and compassionate, it made your heart hurt. And just like that, even more tears were falling onto your clothes as a sharp knife of loneliness cut through you. You did your best to at least slow the streams of tears, but seeing this woman you hardly knew be so motherly and understanding reminded you of your own mother, or maybe those times Kikyo had helped you through the beginnings of morning sickness or nausea. Either way, your boss' actions hit a chord and now you were trying not to bawl while she offered you tissues and talked you down from the hormonal extreme.          "I see now, must be the pregnancy talking." she laughed a little, "when I was expecting my eldest, the mood swings never really left, and just about anything would set me off. I remember one time, my husband had made me breakfast and I ended up sobbing over it for a good five minutes while he was just mortified." she said, giving you a comforting smile when you weakly laughed. Finally, when you were past the violent sobs, your boss helped you up and led you to the kitchen so you could splash some water on your face and she could get you some tea to help you relax. Once you were settled down at the table, warm cup of tea between your hands, your boss sat at the table with you and let you take a few sips before asking,           "So, do you have any plans set for the baby?" she asked, and you felt her warm eyes drawing out all of your issues. You started out pretty vague, admitting you weren't really sure of what to do, but that soon led to you going into detail about how you didn't think you'd be keeping the child and probably putting them up for adoption since you couldn't afford them. You told her that you felt so bad for the decision, but you didn't want to raise your child in poverty or worsen their quality of life in general, which your boss understood, laying her dark hand on yours soothingly as you spoke. For the next hour or so, you sat with the woman and she helped you through all of your options. You told her that the father of the child wasn't the best, so she explained good ways to limit contact and how to keep track of every instance of neglect, abuse, or anything of the sort just in case things required lawyers and courts. By the time you'd left her home for the day, you were feeling much better about your situation, and while your plans to put the baby up for adoption hadn't changed, you were much more confident in the steps to go about it. You kept that job for two or three more trips, telling your boss of your plans to stop after that. She understood perfectly and made sure your pay was doubled,           "Pretty soon you'll come up on being six months, you won't be able to do a lot in your third trimester." she pointed out after you refused to accept her money, but that wasn't the only kind thing she did for you. No, on your second to last job with her family she had basically spun you around at the door and herded you out to her car. "I understand you're trying to keep as low a profile as possible, but I can't in good conscious not have that child checked on." she told you as she drove you to a check up, patting your hand and just letting you bawl, but she refused to let you apologize for her helping. In fact, when you thought back on the drive after the appointment, she seemed somewhat sad, but you couldn't exactly place why and on the drive back you didn't want to ask and open an old wound. So, you simply didn't say anything about it and went home that night with knowledge that so far your baby seemed fine, and a tip from your boss to find some time to relax more, "Make sure to destress as best you can, it's good for your mental health and the baby." she advised, as motherly as ever. So, you decided on your drive home to give that advice a shot. At least once. So, after your last job with that family, while spring time was beginning to really settle in outside, leaving a crisp but fresh feeling night in the wake of a lukewarm day, you had borrowed a book from a neighbor and ran yourself a warm bath to hopefully relax in, even if you likely wouldn't be able to get out of it super easily when bedtime rolled around. Despite that fact, sinking into the warm water felt like heaven to your aching back, breasts, and hips. So, you relaxed in the water for a long while, two hours or so, just reading the book and occasionally putting your hand on your belly to feel the baby kick. The only thing that could've made the night better was if you had some scented candles and maybe a shoulder rub, but you were content with settling for this. All around, the night was near perfect, and that was somewhat because you refused to let your anxiety at the little creaks of your floor or the sounds of your neighbors opening their own doors in the ratty old hall destroy your good time. Eventually, you did get out of the cooled water with some work and got dressed in your comfiest clothes before going to bed, feeling rather happy and relaxed, and thus falling asleep rather quickly. That night, you had quite the weird dream. You weren't a stranger to nightmares about Illumi or the Zoldycks, but this dream was much more melancholy. At the start, it was pretty normal, a nonsensical flurry of dream-logic-fuelled, stream of consciousness, but than things got a bit easier to follow, and the dream took a turn from non-sense, to a bittersweet dream of laying in bed with Illumi again, letting him feel your belly and generally being happy with an undertone of 'something's off' to it. When you woke up the next day you were hit with a tsunami of yearning for that scenario, or any scenario that meant you got cuddled and comforted, and didn't feel so crushingly alone. For the twentieth time since the beginning of the month, you thought of returning to the Zoldyck estate, or at least making it easier for your fiance to find you, but than your common sense kicked in to stomp out that fantasy. No! If I go back my life will be more than just miserable boredom and restrictions. It'll become worse than hell! Illumi will be pissed beyond belief and will probably do something extreme to me! Your fearful inner voice had a point, Illumi had already threatened you when you'd asked to go out without him that day, he'd undoubtedly do worse to you for not only trying to run, but staying gone for so long and putting your baby under so much stress. Oh god, what would he do if I miscarry? The mere thought of his reaction was enough to settle the debate. You'd stay gone. You'd put up with the apartment that smelled of wet dogs and smoke, the paper thin walls, the exorbitant rent, you'd leave your baby at a church once they were born, and you'd go off the grid. If you could help it, you'd never go back to face Illumi and his family.

#Illumi x reader #sequel #outrunning obsessions #hxh #hunter x hunter #x reader #sequelette #Illumi zoldyck #fanfiction #quotev

[hottestthingalive]

Roses

Roman and Deceit like each other and are hopeless pining gays about it, Remus and Patton are useless but supportive wingmen, and Logan and Virgil are manipulating everyone but not in a bad way. 

Just to avoid any confusion, when the text Deceit is saying is bolded, it’s his lies poking through his regular speech! I know this is a bit of a change from my first fic, but my Analogical heart has more than enough room for Roceit, so that’s what y’all are getting!

tw: mild cursing, sexual references (because Remus)

It was Remus who figured it out first, strangely enough. But then again, he was half of Creativity, albeit the more chaotic part, and both he and Roman had always had a sense for romance. 

So it was Remus who figured it out first. While in the process of stealing Roman’s shoes, he noticed a vase brimming with roses on his desk. In itself, this was not unusual: Roman liked his flowers, and Remus personally believed that there were enough plants in his room to fill a small forest. But the flowers were a pale, soft yellow, and as far as he knew, Roman tended to stick to red roses, or pink. 

Remus blinked. “Well, that’s odd,” he said out loud, dropping the shoes he was stealing onto the bed. “What’ve you got these for, Ro?”

So he did a bit of snooping, eventually settling down at Roman’s desk to read a leatherbound notebook. Perched on the legs of the chair, the top of the backrest balancing precariously on the fluffy rug, Remus munched on Roman’s deodorant and flipped through the pages. 

It turned out to be a diary. 

After finishing his reading, and the deodorant, Remus threw it across the room, spinning on his precarious perch. “Ew,” he rolled his eyes. “He writes over and over and over about his huge crush on Dee, and doesn’t once mention any sexy stuff? Blargh.”

“Hey,” he realized after a second, “doesn’t Dee like Roman?”

A grin spread across his face. 

From Roman’s room, Remus took three things.

His left shoe

A bottle of conditioner

A rainbow friendship bracelet with small, colorful plastic beads.

Oh, and a newfound desire to set up Dee and his brother. But that one wasn’t edible.

Logan learned next, when Roman burst into the living room with Deceit’s hat in his hands, running for his life. Virgil glanced over from where he was perched on the fridge, scrolling through his phone, and shrugged at Logan, in a “Well, what can you do?” gesture. 

The Logical side, who was baking cupcakes (in the hopes of teaching Thomas how to do the same) sighed, returning to the batter he was mixing. He did notice, however, when Dee appeared in the room, instantly making his way for Roman.

“I didn’t tell you not to touch my shit, right?” he snapped, brushing back his brown curls with his hand. “Give it back, Roman!”

“But I like your hair,” Roman protested, a mischievous grin (one Logan would have more expected from Remus) playing around his lips. “It’s cute!”

Dee turned bright red as he scowled, attempting to grab the hat from Roman’s hands. The snake-like side was taller, yes, but Roman was quick, and escaped quite easily. “Roman!”

“You’re going to have to come and get it,” the creative side grinned, before tossing the hat, past Logan and towards the refrigerator. “Catch, small, dark and lonesome!”

Virgil fumbled to grab it, luckily managing not to fall off, and hissed at Roman. 

“Are you alright?” Logan asked him after Roman had dashed into his room, Deceit following close behind. Neither seemed to be aware (or to really care) that they’d left the bowler hat behind. 

“I’m fine,” he nodded, though he was staring at Roman’s door, perplexed. “What just happened?”

“I have no idea,” Logan sighed, returning to the mixture. Only a little more, and then he would pour it into a cupcake tin and begin making the icing. 

But he did have an idea, kind of. It had almost seemed like Roman and Deceit were flirting with each other, in the ways that much of the media Thomas indulged in portrayed romance. 

Well, it did make sense, he mused as he meticulously poured the batter. They had been spending more time together lately, although (Logan winced as Roman’s door was flung open again, Deceit now the one sprinting as he carried Roman’s sword in his hands) they almost seemed oblivious to their own feelings. 

He slid the cupcakes into the oven, setting a timer on his phone, and glanced over to where Roman was simultaneously raging at Dee and laughing as he ran down the hall after him, a faint blush visible on his cheeks. Not completely oblivious, then, just apparently unaware of the reciprocation of their feelings.

Logan glanced at Virgil, who was watching the two sides with a sort of amused befuddlement. Should he tell him of his newfound hypothesis? 

No, he decided. It was Roman and Deceit’s business, firstly, and besides, Virgil was intelligent. He would figure it out quickly, if he hadn’t done so already. 

In the anxious side’s defense, he had suspected that there was something going on between Deceit and Roman for a long time. But Virgil was well known for paranoia jumping to conclusions, and was often wrong. So he’d stayed silent, brushed his suspicions off to the side, and, although he kept an eye on the two sides, he waited until he had enough evidence to be certain of anything. 

Staring at the list he’d made, which now filled an entire notebook and was making its way through a second, Virgil wondered if he had enough evidence yet. Perhaps he ought to wait until he’d filled the second. Or a third. Or a fourth. Or a fifth--

No. He was spiraling. In, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. 

Breathe, Virge, he told himself. The stress of this was getting to him, apparently, and that incident in the kitchen a few days ago hadn’t helped things. It certainly had seemed like they were flirting (and besides, they’d been blushing far too much) but what if he was taking things too far? Maybe they were just very, very good friends. 

Maybe he should ask Logan? The logical side was always good at this kind of thing, and usually helped to ease his anxiety, as logic often did for the mental condition. But what if by doing so, he betrayed Roman and Dee’s secret? Did they even have a secret? What if Logan thought he was being an idiot?

He groaned, grabbing the notebooks. If things kept going on like this, it’ll start to affect Thomas, he told himself, as he shut his eyes and appeared outside the door to Logan’s room, knocking on the door. 

“Come in,” he heard, and opened it, hood up as he stepped inside. 

Logan turned in his desk chair, concern evident in his eyes. “Virgil? Are you alright?”

“Hey, L,” he waved awkwardly, clutching the notebooks to his chest. “Can… Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Certainly,” Logan nodded, fully facing him now. “Is there an issue?”

“No, everything’s fine. I’ve just been noticing some weird stuff lately, and I can’t tell if I’m jumping to conclusions or if there’s actually something going on.” Virgil hesitated. “Is there something going on? Between Princey and Dee, I mean?” 

“What do you mean by ‘something’?” he asked, words oddly cautious. 

“I’ve been keeping an eye out for a couple weeks now,” he explained, handing him the notebooks. “And I haven’t been like, stalking them or anything, I just did what you’re always saying to do -- gather data when you have the opportunity? I wrote it down to make sure I wasn’t imagining stuff, too.”

“You noticed all of this?” said Logic, incredulous, flipping through the pages. 

“I’m a bit more observant than the rest of you guys, generally, because I’m Thomas’ flight or fight instinct.” Virgil shrugged, biting his lip. “I just kept an eye on them, wrote down what I saw.”

“So, you believe Roman and Deceit are, or desire to be, in a romantic relationship with each other?” 

“They aren’t, yet,” he said immediately. “We would have noticed. They’re disaster gays, Logan, they’d ask for help to get together, and Patton can’t keep a secret to save his life.” 

“You would notice, maybe, but I’m not sure if it would be so apparent to the rest of us. Still,” Logan adjusted his glasses, looking up at Virgil, “I am glad you came to me. I have had my own suspicions about those two, and it is gratifying to see them confirmed. Although, in the future, if you have a notebook’s worth of substantial evidence, you can generally consider your hypothesis correct.” He stood, holding out the evidence in question. 

“Got it,” the anxious side nodded, taking the notebooks and making for the door. He slowed, turning back. “Hey, Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“What… what do we do? I mean, they’ve been pining after each other for weeks now, probably longer. Shouldn’t we do something?”

Logan sighed. “I’m not sure there’s much we can do. Until they decide to consult one of us, or Remus or Patton, I suppose we should let them figure things out on their own.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best,” he agreed, opening the door. “Bye, L.��

“Good night, Virgil,” Logan said, returning to his desk. 

But what if they don’t do anything? the emo side wondered as he hurried down the hall, headphones on and MCR blasting in his ears. Those two are emotionally-stunted idiots!

Later, in his room, Virgil would decide that Logan was right. It wasn’t his business, anyways, and he had other work to do, like ensuring Thomas didn’t make an utter fool out of himself on social media. 

Thus it was Patton who learned of the budding relationship last, ironically. In Morality’s defense, however, he had noticed that Deceit and Roman were growing close, and had simply brushed it off as the two sides learning to get along. He was glad, really, that Roman was escaping his habit of assuming villainy of the others, and that Dee was befriending the Creative side. It would be good for both of them. 

So he didn’t learn of the two sides’ true feelings until Deceit came up to him one night. Roman and Remus were spending time together in the Imagination and Virgil and Logan were playing chess in the living room, and with the others thus distracted he had quietly asked if he could talk to Patton for a minute. 

He agreed, of course, and followed Dee to the front steps of the house which manifested in the Mindscape. Virgil often warned them not to leave the steps, so both sides were careful to stay put. (“It’s dangerous, okay, Pat?” he’d snapped one night when pressed a bit too far. After calming down and apologizing, he’d continued “Think of it like this, okay? Thomas’ conscious mind manifests, at least for us, like a home to live in. But outside of the conscious mind, or the home, we don’t have as much power. You could fall into the subconscious, or accidentally affect him, or worse. Just… It’s in all of our best interests if we stay where it’s safe.”)

“What did you want to talk about, kiddo?” Patton asked after both had settled comfortably, noting how Deceit was nervously twisting his hat in his gloved hands. “Is everything okay?”

“What if I didn’t want to ask someone out?” the snake-like side asked, looking anywhere but at Patton. “How would I do it?”

He squealed. Loudly. Dee looked slightly pained, but put up with Patton grabbing his shoulders and exclaiming “You like someone? Aw, that’s adorable! Who? Or, well, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too, this is just so cute!”

Deceit turned bright red, messing with a friendship bracelet on his wrist.

Patton was no idiot. He wasn’t the most book-smart of individuals, admittedly, but he was remarkably perceptive when it came to emotions, and surprisingly skilled at logical deduction. But, being representative of Thomas’ Morality, he disliked making assumptions, and preferred to wait for actual information. (“After all,” he’d chirp, after having lost his fifth consecutive game of Clue because he’d waited too long to Accuse, “to assume makes an a-word out of u and me!”) 

Presented with enough evidence, however, the puzzle pieces instantly clicked for him. Roman had made friendship bracelets for everyone a few months ago for Christmas, because he enjoyed the craft, and Patton recognized the specific gold thread he’d used in each of the presents woven between the red and yellow strands. And hadn’t Dee and Roman been spending more time together lately? And hadn’t Virgil and Logan been giving each other weird looks whenever they saw them together all week? 

“You like Roman?” Patton realized, eyes brightening. “That’s simply adderable!” 

Dee snickered at the pun, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t like Roman. But I don’t know what to say to him, or how to bring it up, or if he even likes me back, so I thought I’d ask you.”

“Me?” asked Morality, touched. “Why, kiddo?”

“You control a lot of Thomas’ feelings, you’ve said so yourself. And I am good at this relationship stuff, and you are, so it was the logical conclusion.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me, ‘logical conclusion’. Logan would be proud.”

“Well, I’d be happy to help!” he exclaimed, grinning. Checking his watch, he stood. “I’ll tell you what, though, it’s almost time for dinner. So let’s go inside and eat with everything else, and we can talk tomorrow? That’ll also give me some time to come up with ideas, of course.”

“Sure,” Dee nodded, smiling. “That wouldn’t be great, Patton.”

“Of course!”

Later that night, the center of Thomas’ feelings woke up in the middle of the night to see Remus, hanging above his bed from the ceiling like a bat. He started to scream, but the chaotic half of Creativity clamped his hand over Patton’s mouth. “Heya, Patty-batty-chatty-cakes!” he chirped. 

He gently pulled the hand away from his mouth. “Remus,” he said, fumbling for his glasses, “bud, it’s really, really late. What’re you still doing up?”

“You’ll never guess what Ro-Ro told me four hours ago!” the other side grinned, turning so he was sitting cross-legged at the end of Patton’s bed. “He has a crush! On slimy-boi!”

“Deceit isn’t actually slimy, Remus, you know that,” Morality chided him automatically, before his eyes widened. “Wait, Dee likes Roman!” 

“I know!” giggled Remus. “It’s as perfect as a unicorn being turned into mashed potatoes for a princess’ birthday dinner!” 

Patton ignored that last comment for the sake of his tenuous sanity. “Well, we have to get them together, then!” he beamed, holding out his hand for Remus to high-five. “Let’s team up to make sure they finally get together!”

Remus licked his palm, before slapping it against Patton’s. “Yay, Team Get-Those-Gays-Laid!” he exclaimed. 

“...We’ll work on the name,” he decided. “Now, we’d better both go to bed, okay? Or else we might disrupt Thomas’ sleep schedule.”

Remus nodded, chirping “Bye, Pat-a-dat-a-ding-dong!” before grinning, and, like the Cheshire Cat, fading away. It took a solid minute for his teeth to finally vanish.

Still, Patton couldn’t sleep. He was just so excited!

It had been two weeks since Patton and Remus had formed their team, which, despite its constantly fluctuating name, appeared to be going strong. They had been coaching both Deceit and Roman, respectively, had made lists of their corresponding interests and dislikes, and had been working day and night (much to Logan’s annoyance). All in all, it was going well. 

“But they aren’t doing anything,” Virgil groaned, as he placed down a blue three. “I know they’re trying, but it would be great if Team Whatever-Their-Name-Is-Now had actually done something already!”

“Last I knew, they were titled Team ‘Sparkle Cat Boy and Stinky Trash Rat Make A Snake Kiss A Prince, Hopefully Before We Die Of Old Age’ by you, Virgil,” Logan replied, topping it with a blue reverse card. (Much to his chagrin. As there were only two of them, Logan had argued that they ought to remove the reverse cards entirely. Virgil had insisted that they keep them in.) “And remember, we decided to not get involved? If they wanted our help, they would have asked for it.”

“You’re right,” Anxiety nodded after a beat. “We shouldn’t do anything. If Pat and Re need help, they’ll ask. Same goes for Roman and Dee.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“It’s the logical course of action.” 

“As I am Logic, it would be foolish not to stay as we are.”

“Yeah. They can handle it on their own.”

Logan hesitated. “But, knowing the four of them, will they be able to handle it effectively?”

“...No,” Virgil sighed, adding a plus four card. “Uh, red. Take four. Well, what can we do about it?” 

“They won’t want us involved, of course. None of them know that we have any idea of what’s going on,” he mused, taking his cards. “My turn is skipped, so go ahead. Perhaps we should simply push them in the right direction. Do you know what they’re planning so far?”

“Pat and Remus have decided that they’re going to trick them into going on a date in the Imagination. They’re going to have Remus get those two oblivious lovebirds to enter Roman’s room while Patton finishes “making a place for them to confess their undying love”, direct quote from Pat.” Virgil placed a red six. “Uno.” 

“But Patton is not skilled at manipulating the Imagination,” Logan protested, frowning, as he put down a blue six in turn. “How do they expect him to do it?”

“Wait, he isn't?” the anxious side said, startled. “I thought he’d be the most likely to be able to control it out of any of the rest of us -- it’s just feelings and dreams, right?”

“Not entirely. Yes, feelings and dreams and happiness and all that is needed, but also a knowledge of structure, of depth, of space, and that’s just the basics. Roman has often mentioned his creations are best when he can root them in science, or concepts he knows a lot about. It makes Patton and I both quite inept at its manipulation.” He frowned. “But of course they cannot have Remus do it…”

“Then what do we do?” asked Virgil, the singular card in his hand seemingly forgotten. 

There was silence for a moment, before Logan’s eyes brightened. “Aren’t you always imagining those scenarios of things going wrong? To better protect Thomas?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded hesitantly, “but that’s also kind of counterproductive for a date, Logan.” 

“But to go wrong, it has to begin from an ideal point, one where things were right!” grinned Logic. “What if that was what we did? We pretend to spot Patton entering Roman’s room, and offer him our services when he cannot create what he wishes. You imagine it, and I relieve your anxiety before anything malicious can occur, thus fixing the problem!”

“What about Remus?” challenged Virgil, though his eyes had brightened with hope. “Do we really want him being the one to get Deceit and Roman, come up with a valid excuse for them to spend time together in the Imagination, and then trust him not to do something vulgar or disgusting?”

“Perhaps we drop hints for the next few days that preparing something ahead of time is better than doing it at the spur of the moment,” Logan mused. “Hopefully, it will influence Thomas enough that Patton is affected, and decides to create the environment in the Imagination ahead of time, making him the one to bring them there.”

“This plan still has major flaws,” Virgil grumbled, but sighed, eyes filling with a sort of brazen determination rarely seen in the embodiment of anxiety. “But let’s do it.”

“Agreed,” he smiled. 

“Oh, by the way, I win,” he added, dropping his Wild card onto the pile. “I always save one, just in case. You know that, Logan, come on.” 

“I do now,” Logic nodded, but he couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto his face. “Good game, Virgil.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, before his face fell. “Oh no, do we need one of those stupid team names now?”

“I think not,” decided Logan, rolling his eyes. “Besides, we both know they make you too conspicuous. We figured out that Patton and Remus had teamed up because they kept whispering about their team name and making ‘team puns’.” 

“True,” laughed Virgil. “Alright, Team Without-A-Team-Name, let’s manipulate our friends to set up our other idiotic gay friends.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” he said automatically, before looking up, appalled. “And we said no name!”

Virgil was still laughing as he sunk out. 

It wasn’t much of a surprise that their plan worked perfectly. Remus was employed to distract Deceit and Roman by leading them on a wild goose chase (literally) through his half of the Imagination after lunch, while Patton transformed the part of the realm that usually appeared as Roman’s room, exactly two hours before he would have to go find the lying and creative sides. 

Patton was panicking. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t make it work right! All of his ideas, as beautiful and dreamy as they were, quickly became unsubstantial and appeared like blobs of paint. But he couldn’t ask Remus for help, or else Dee and Roman would end up having their date in a swamp, chased by a man-eating kraken! 

“Patton?” came a familiar voice from the door, and he turned to see Logan standing there, Virgil peering around his shoulder. “Is everything alright? We noticed you entering Roman’s room. I thought he was out with Deceit and the Duke?” 

“Oh, hey kiddos!” Patton exclaimed, trying for a cheerful smile but (judging from the sympathetic looks on both of their faces) not entirely succeeding. “I was hoping to make a surprise for Dee and Ro, but… As you can see, it isn’t going very well.” He stared sadly at what he had hoped would be a rose bush (“Yellow and red!” Remus had told him, oddly insistent) that instead looked like a green background to a trypophobic nightmare. 

“Well, that does make sense. Neither you nor I are particularly good at such things, Patton; we don’t have enough balance between feelings and knowledge to produce them.” Logan hesitated, glancing at Virgil, who was crouching and staring at Patton’s attempt at a cat. “Perhaps Virgil could aid you, if he is so willing.”

“What?” asked the side in question, that had gathered the wispy brown mist into his arms and was stroking it gently, causing a faint sound (almost like a purr, but not quite) to ripple through the Imagination. 

Logan cleared his throat, seemingly flustered, as Patton internally squealed because it was just too cute. “I said, ‘Perhaps Virgil could aid you, if he is so willing.’”

His eyes widened, cheeks reddening, as he cautiously put down the cat. “Uh sure. Yeah. Um��� Paternal figure, if you tell me what to do, I can probably do it, as long as Logan makes sure I don’t ruin it.” 

Logan rolled his eyes as Patton giggled. “Don’t talk bad about yourself, kiddo,” he warned, momentarily frowning, before he brightened again. “But anyways, that would be really helpful!”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready,” Virgil said, still holding the misty cat, although its fur had changed to a soft grey. 

“Alright, so I was thinking a sort of forest at dusk, maybe? And a path through it, all lit up with pretty lanterns with little candles inside, coming from the door to a clearing.” He paused, watching the trees grow around him, the sun begin to set, the cast-iron lanterns growing and hanging themselves from branches, candles inside flickering merrily. “Oh! And maybe faeries, like the ones from Legend of Zelda, little spots of light? Those would be pretty everywhere. Plenty of animals, too, but no creepy-crawlies, and a couple harmless snakes.”

At this point, Logan lay a hand on Virgil’s arm, the snakes (that had begun to grow long fangs dripping with venom) writhing in the grass. “Breathe, Virgil. You can do this.”

The anxious side nodded, and the animals in question shrunk, till they were small, harmless corn snakes that quickly slithered away.

“Lots of flowers and plants everywhere,” Patton continued with a smile, “and especially rose bushes, with red and yellow roses. And then in the clearing…

“Make it flat, so there are no bumps, but plenty of grass! And a big checkered picnic blanket off to one side, right underneath a cherry tree, a flowering one, where the petals don’t fall too often -- just occasionally? An apple tree here or there, maybe some pears. And I brought some food for them.” He pulled a big picnic basket out from behind him, placing it gently in the center of the blanket.

“It looks ideal. I’m sure Deceit and Roman will confess in no time,” Logan nodded, pleased.

“I certainly hope so!” Patton chirped, before his eyes widened. “Hey, how’d you know that?”

“...Context clues,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses, as Virgil snorted. The cat in his lap, which was now black with big yellow eyes, and far more defined, purred loudly. 

“It looks great, Pat,” Virgil said, standing, his new friend still held firmly in his grasp. Patton sneezed, and he tossed him his allergy medication without even thinking about it, as he was wont to do. (It had been Anxiety, strangely, that had taken the motherly role among the sides. Remus found it hilarious.) “Good luck.”

“Thank you so much, Virgil!” he exclaimed, catching the smaller side into a bear hug. “I never would have been able to do it without you!”

“Y-You’re welcome,” he stuttered, face pink. “Take your meds, you’re already sneezing. C’mon Logan let’s go--”

Hurriedly, the anxious side pulled them out of the Imagination, sinking out to the living room. 

“It really did look good, Virgil,” Logan remarked after a beat, noting how the cat had escaped the Imagination with them, and was now stretching, kneading its paws into the rug. “You did an excellent job.”

“Now we just have to see if it works,” he muttered, pulling a board out from under the television. “Monopoly?”

“Ro! Dee!”

The two sides turned, spotting Patton running towards them. “Patton?” Roman asked, lowering the balloon sword Remus had given him at the start of their adventure.

“Hey, kiddo! Um… there have been some weird noises coming from your room, and I was starting to get a little worried,” the feelings-based side explained, coming to a stop, panting. “Do you have any idea what’s happening?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Roman frowned, summoning his actual sword. “I had best go investigate!”

“I had better not come with you,” Dee told him, adjusting his hat. “If something is actually wrong, I can provide backup.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Patton nodded furiously. 

“Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Remus?” asked Roman as Patton ushered the two sides out of the darker half of the Imagination and into the hallway. 

“Nope!” called the side in question, popping up out of the dirt. “Go get laid, Ro!”

...It was probably good, all things considered, that Patton had already closed the door by then. 

“I don’t hear anything odd,” Roman said, ear pressed to the door. “Do you, Dee?”

“I do,” he shook his head. 

“Patton, are you sure you heard--” he straightened, looking around. “Patton?”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Dee remarked, sarcasm dripping through his voice. “We’d better go in.”

“Shouldn’t we find Patton first?” Thomas’ Creativity asked, perturbed. 

“He probably got distracted, you don’t know him,” sighed Deceit. “And he didn’t ask us to check on what was going on.”

“True,” nodded Roman, and with that, opened the door. 

Time in Roman’s realm hadn’t changed since Virgil had altered it, so it was into that magical moment just between sunset and night that the two sides walked. They looked around, eyes wide, Roman admiring the plants, Deceit cooing at every animal he could find. The path was like something out of a story. One of the tiny faeries landed Deceit’s finger, and Roman, looking over, half thought that the other side’s eyes were going to pop out of his head, with how stunned he looked. 

The clearing was beautiful too, and both were enraptured by their surroundings as they sat on the blanket. 

“It isn’t so beautiful,” Deceit said softly after a long, peaceful silence, glancing over at Roman.

“It is,” he agreed, looking at him in turn. The meeting of their eyes seemed to fluster them both, as they simultaneously turned red and focused on the basket between them. 

It took awhile for the awkwardness to be over (the duration it took for them each to consume the sandwiches that Patton had packed, specifically) but finally Roman, lying on his back and observing the first stars of the night that had begun to peek through the trees, said “So, we should probably talk.”

“I suppose we should,” Dee nodded, turning to face him. At some point, his hat and gloves had been taken off, and there was a small corn snake, only a baby, really, nestled in his curls. 

“How did you have time to sneak in here and make this?” inquired Roman, after neither of them said a word. “I was with you the whole day!”

“Wait, I did make this,” Dee told him, before scowling in concentration. “I didn’t make this, I mean. I thought you did!” 

“No, I haven’t been in the Imagination since a little before lunch, and then it was just my room,” he frowned. 

“Well, why would it turn into this while you weren’t there?” Dee asked, looking around. “I mean, it clearly isn’t for the both of us -- could you be any more blatant with the roses?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted, but he sighed, then. “Or… I do. I just didn’t think it would get this out of hand.”

“What wouldn’t get this out of hand?” It must be acknowledged that despite his best efforts, Deceit was having trouble mustering enough concentration to focus on speaking the truth. (Not while Roman was right next to him, weaving together flower crowns from the roses, the warm light from the lanterns making his face glow.)

“A few months ago, I realized that I… have feelings for you, Dee. In a not entirely platonic sense.” His face was as red as the flowers still in his hands, but Roman hurried on, “It appears that the Imagination has been affected by those feelings a great deal more than I suspected.”

“You don’t like me?” the other side asked, Deceit’s voice small as he stared at him.

“I do,” confessed Creativity, sitting up, placing the two finished crowns beside him. “And I would never want to force you to reciprocate those feelings, but I thought… You ought to know. You probably would have figured it out yourself, after this, anyway.”

“You wouldn’t be forcing me to reciprocate those feelings,” Dee told him after a beat, nails digging into his palms because he had to concentrate, to be honest. “I… I don-- I like you too, Roman. Not platonically.”

“You do?” he asked, and he looked so shocked, so confused, that it almost broke Deceit’s heart. 

“I do,” he nodded, and he could feel a grin breaking out across his face. “And you don’t -- I mean, you do too.”

“Can I kiss you?” Roman asked, because of course he did, because he was always a perfect gentleman, even to Dee. 

It wasn’t fireworks or rainbows or flames of passion, not really. It was more like coming home, the sense of two halves of the same whole slotting into place, connecting for the first time. 

When they came out of the Imagination, each wearing flower crowns of red and yellow roses, holding hands tightly, Virgil and Logan grinned tiredly at each other. They had long ago finished Monopoly, and had moved on to sitting on the sofa, wrapped in blankets. Patton had fallen asleep beside them, head in Virgil’s lap, and Remus was snoring from under the couch. (Virgil had been kind enough to abandon his perch on top of the cushions for Patton, or else it would have been very uncomfortable for the both of them.)

“You arranged this, didn’t you,” deadpanned Dee, after taking one look at the smirk on Virgil’s face. 

“Patton and Remus are currently unaware that we -- how did you phrase it, Virgil? Oh, yes, masterminded the entire thing. As far as they know, we were only minorly involved,” Logan told them quietly, moving over so the two sides could sit together beside him on the couch. “I would appreciate it if you did not inform them. Congratulations on finally acknowledging your feelings for each other.”

“Good job,” said the anxious side succinctly, clearly already half asleep and ready to pass out now that his work was finished. “Hey, Dee, guess what? I did the roses. I made allllllll of the roses.” 

“You did the entirety of the creation, Virgil, and you did so wonderfully,” Logan informed him, patting him on the head awkwardly. “Now… rest, please.”

“Thank you,” Roman told them both quietly, his hand warm on Dee’s. They’d left his gloves and hat in the Imagination, but they could always fetch them later. Besides, Roman liked holding hands. “We’ll thank Patton and Remus in the morning, too, but… Thank you.”

“Of course,” Logic nodded, smiling at them. “I believe there are blankets on the chair that Patton insisted we leave out for you should you wish to sleep here on the couch with us tonight.”

“I think we won’t,” Dee told him, standing to grab said blankets. 

They fell asleep that night all curled up together, these six sides of Thomas Sanders. When they woke up the next morning and Patton cooed over the flower crowns and Remus made vulgar jokes at them, when Virgil grumbled at them good-naturedly and Logan, the only one ever truly awake in the mornings, made breakfast, they would thank them. The crowns would eventually go on shelves, first in their individual bedrooms and then, when they moved in together, on a singular shelf just above their bed. 

They would have their spats, as lovers do, and they would make up. They would have adventures, would create a garden all their own, would pet Virgil’s cat (which he titled Wisp) as they ate breakfast together, would eventually tell Thomas and his viewers. They would have a future together. 

But not yet. For now, they slept.

#roceit #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remus #ts deceit #ts patton #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #creativity #intrusive thoughts #janus #morality #anxiety #logic #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #or #romantic analogical #maybe #platonic intruality #platonic logicality #y'all get one (1) non-analogical fic out of me #this was not supposed to be this long help #fluff #roses