#just thinkin about these boys n their red hats
its them! its the toony boys with red hats!
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small town au thoughts with chandler 🧍
cowboy lookin mfer
serving very much straight man vibes
UNLESS HES AROUND HIS FRIENDS
cause,,,,, jack isnt friends with a single cishet person i said what i said
jack being a scary cishet hypermasc looking person but then seamlessly using he/they pronouns when talking about albert
davey being Incredibly Intimidated by jack until he wears makeup to school one day cause last week someone told racer he couldn’t
hhhhhh kind loving accepting cowboy jack kelly has my heart
i have so many more thoughts but i am feeling very much Incoherent cause i keep thinking about car guy albert so here you go ✨
no oh my god the way this made me think of jack being the TOKEN COUNTRY BUMPKIN in a normal high school
like literally all of his friends are skaters and/or theatre kids and they’re all Some Flavor Of Queer and jack is just :) just happy to be there :)
in his boots n his hat n his nice bootcut jeans n his pearl snap button ups in the middle of a NEW YORK CITY PUBLIC HIGHSCHOOL
thats such a funny concept to me
ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL CONTENT:
i can definitely see this ??
because, i mean, all of them are from a relatively small town. i’m talking like, maybe 60-70 graduating seniors in their class (my school had 146 seniors this year, for reference)
and jack’s friend group is very much,, idk. theywear the jeans and the flannels and the twisted xs but they make it fairly obvious that they’re queer, whether that be by wearing jewelry/doing minimal makeup/wearing pride apparel/etc.
but jack is there with his starched jeans and pearl snap shirts and cowboy boots, looking like a Straight Conservative Christian
so obviously, davey is kinda wary of jack
but then, one day, davey is getting made fun of in the hallway (by oscar and morris, of course), and jack shuts them down.
“What the hell do y’all think you’re doin’?”
“What’s it look like?” Oscar asks with a sneer. “Pretty boy over here’s thinkin’ he has free reign of the school. We’re jus’ showin’ him the ropes.”
“Yeah?” Jack steps forward, raising a brow. “How ‘bout I show y’all what it’s like to get your ass beat in the school hallway? This kid ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever. Have it your way, Kelly.”
As the two walk away, Jack turns his attention to Davey. “They didn’t hurt ya, did they?”
“No, I-- I’m fine, thank you,” David says quickly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
obviously jack didn’t have to but he goes in and tells davey all of the other shit they’ve done in the past (because they’re horrible people)
the interaction ends with jack’s offer for davey to sit by him at lunch
obviously davey is kinda Spooked but then he gets to the lunch room and sees:
katherine and her painted denim jacket with lesbian pride flag pins
al with a he/they pronoun pin on their backpack
racer, another ‘stereotypical cowboy’, holding hands with al and ALSO having painted nails
needless to say, davey fits in REALLY well
but he’s still confused about jack.
one day, about three weeks after he’s been integrated into the group, he gets invited to a bonfire out at racer’s house, and jack offers to pick david up.
on the ride over, david breeches the subject.
“Hey, so, can I... I have a question.”
David takes in a deep breath, and asks, “Are you... Queer?”
Jack is silent for all of two seconds until David amends his question. “I mean-- It’s fine if you are! Obviously! I am,” He says with a nervous laugh, “I just- I-- I’m curious, because the others make it- I don’t know, they make it kinda obvious, like me, but then you-- I don’t know! You don’t really fit in and- and, I mean, not to force stereotypes, but--”
“--You just don’t look like the kind of guy who would be, uh, not straight--”
“--And I was just curious, but, obviously, you don’t have to talk about it, because that’s your business, but--”
David shuts up then, and looks at Jack with a red face, expecting him to look angry, or upset, but Jack is... smiling. “I’m sorry,” David says, genuine, and he shuts his eyes. “That was-- I’m sorry.”
“It ain’t a problem.” Jack says with a grin. “Really, don’t worry about it, ‘kay? As for... Me, I uh- I don’t know. I know I’m not straight,” Jack pauses, glancing at David, “but I don’t know what I am right now.”
“Oh,” David blinks, then nods, rigid. “Oh. Okay.”
“Okay. I just- okay.”
and obviously davey is freaking out a little because holy shit the guy he has a crush on is ALSO queer
they aren’t awkward about it, at least after a few minutes, but after that day, davey notices jack starts to act different
like. he starts putting more care into his appearance, he grows his hair out more, he paints his nails and makes jokes and finds unique ways to incorporate the bi colors into his daily outfits/rodeo gear (after he comes out, of course)
GOOOOOD i love him so fucking much THANK YOU FOR THIS !!!
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amortentia i [miya atsumu x reader]
previous part • next part • masterlist
genre: fluff, mild angst and some sexual tension? LMAO, hogwarts!au, awkward feelings, (fr)enemies to lovers
warnings: slight implied sexual content
part one (you are here) / part two / part three
content under the cut
It's the beginning of yet another fall term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You're finally entering your seventh and final year of schooling, and there's a nostalgic feeling that fills you as you watch a few first years at the front of the Great Hall giggle and squeal over the beauty of the castle while they wait to be Sorted in their House. You can't help but think about the moment you first stepped foot in this castle seven years ago, equally as star-struck as these new students. Never did you think you would reach the beginning of the end so soon.
You're seated at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall between your best friend, Kiyoko Shimizu, and a classmate of yours, Kenjirou Shirabu. You and Kiyoko start discussing the outcome of the Quidditch World Cup, both of you still shocked that Ireland had swept in and beat Bulgaria in the finals, ending their winning streak of three years. Kenjirou joins in, adding that he had lost ten Galleons from betting on Bulgaria with his friends. Both you and Kiyoko shoot him looks of sympathy.
"How could've I expected to end up ten Galleons poorer that night?" Kenjirou groans.
"You couldn't have. Bulgaria was the team predicted to win everywhere," you say matter-of-factly.
"Don't worry, Kenjirou. I would've betted the same." Kiyoko sighs. "It was a disappointing game. So many mistakes."
"Right? There was even investigation of whether they were drugged or not." Kenjirou grimaces.
"Guess they were just having a bad day. Happens to even the best athletes," you murmur. Your two companions nod in agreement.
The three of you continue to chatter about the match and the players, immersed in your conversation all up until —
"Howzit goin', troll?" A heavy arm slings itself across your shoulder as someone roughly shoves Shirabu away from your left side. Shirabu shoots a dirty look at the newcomer, and the two of them silently glare at each other until Shirabu just huffs and turns his gaze to the floating candles in the pseudo-night sky.
"Miya," you deadpan without having to look up. "This is the Ravenclaw table. Go back to your own House."
"Aww, yer no fun as usual, (L/N)," Atsumu Miya snickers in your ear, and you grimace before roughly shoving his muscular arm off, tilting your head away from his lips.
"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start, get out of here," you continue irritably, still not looking at Atsumu.
"Jeez, a dementor on the outside and the inside, aren't ya?" Atsumu laughs, a booming sound that annoyingly echoes in your head. "Didn't know that yer this interested in Quidditch, by the way. And here I was thinkin' that ya didn't even know the difference between a Quaffle and a Bludger."
"Seriously?" You roll your eyes. Just because he's some hotshot Qudiditch star or whatever, doesn't mean he's the only one who knows the basics of the game.
"Hey, Miya, shut up and leave. We don't want you here," Kiyoko snaps rather irritably from your right. One of your Ravenclaw friends makes an uncalled-for remark about how good of a couple you guys would look. You narrow your eyes at her.
"Nah, think I'll stay right here," Atsumu drawls, completely unaffected by Kiyoko's harsh tones and sounding rather pleased by your other friend's comment. Annoyed, you finally whip your head around to scowl at him.
Clearly you always underestimate how handsome this bastard is.
The glow from the flickering candles up above shine an alluring combination of shadows and light across Atsumu Miya's sun-kissed face. His dyed blonde hair, even in all its piss-colored glory, is effortlessly swept across his forehead. His hooded chocolate eyes, staring tauntingly back at you, sparkle mischievously in the most irritatingly charming way.
Your mouth runs dry as you stare at him for a bit too long.
Atsumu doesn't miss this, of course, his smirk growing ever-wide. "See? (L/N) can't get enough of me," he gloats triumphantly. Before you can protest, your lord and savior arrives.
A hand grabs onto Atsumu's ear, pulling him off of the bench. Atsumu lets out a yelp hat's a good number of octaves higher than his usual baritone as he's thrown onto the ground.
"Sorry 'bout him, (L/N)," Osamu Miya, Atsumu's identical twin (identical only in looks, because Osamu is a saint compared to his brother), sighs with an apologetic look on his features. It's strange to see such an expression on a face that's usually sneering at you.
"'Samu! Yer such a killjoy!" Atsumu complains loudly as Osamu drags him across the floor towards the Slytherin table.
"Shut the hell up, 'Tsumu," your hear Osamu scoff in reply.
Rintarou Suna, the twins' best friend, gives you a small nod in greeting before trailing after them.
You sigh deeply, relieved that yet another encounter with that piss-haired asshole has ended.
Atsumu fucking Miya. Where should you even begin?
The two of you have mixed like water and oil ever since your first year at Hogwarts. Your odd relationship with Atsumu began when he tried to intimidate you into leaving the compartment on the Hogwarts Express that he, his brother, Osamu, and their childhood friend Rintarou Suna had occupied. The other boys didn’t seem to mind your presence, but Atsumu was insistent, claiming that the compartment was ‘too crowded’ and that you needed to find another place to sit.
Being a Muggleborn, the whole idea of this magical world had been mind-boggling to you. You were amazed by this new adventure in magic that you had waiting for you that you never even knew existed. But you had spent a long few days trying to figure out how to buy your wand and textbooks, reading up on the wizarding universe, and attempting to get used to having a great horned owl (who you named Kou) as a pet, all while having to deal with your Muggle parents constantly worrying and nagging about you leaving home to attend this mysterious school.
You had no damn time or patience to deal with a brat who couldn’t accept that other people needed a seat on the train too.
You had ignored Atsumu’s whining and protests and instead planted yourself in a seat inside the compartment, anyway. Osamu and Rintarou had exchanged amused looks before introducing themselves, and you had politely told them your name in return. Atsumu, never to be left behind, rudely butted in and practically yelled his name in your face, causing you to grimace and tell him that his breath stank.
From that moment on, you were marked as the sworn enemy and rival of Atsumu Miya.
After bickering for the entire duration of the Sorting Ceremony, he was sorted into Slytherin and you into Ravenclaw. He had stuck his tongue out at you and mouthed ‘Loser’ when you walked past the Slytherin table to take a seat with your fellow Ravenclaws. You had immaturely done the same in return.
If you thought that was the last time you would see Atsumu Miya, since you were now in different houses and everything, you would have been severely wrong.
He made it a point to call out some kind of lame insult to you every time he passed you in the halls, such as ‘(L/N)! Yer hair looks like an owl’s nest!’ or ‘(L/N), what’s it like ta be a troll?’ You usually ignored his call-outs, pretending that he didn’t exist, and most of your friends just found him hilarious and charming.
There’s no doubt that he’s appealing, with that certain aura around him.
He is a pureblooded, proud Slytherin with exceptional athletic skills, hence his position as Beater on the Quidditch Team, with his brother as the other Beater. As you grew older, he also became quite the ladies’ man, constantly surrounded by hordes of girls. Even some of your own friends are part of the infamous Miya Twins Fan Club, which was dedicated solely to following the twins around, making extravagant banners to cheer Slytherin on at Quidditch games, and some... other questionable activities (like trying to steal a hair from a twin to make Polyjuice Potion? Yeah, you hope that one was just a rumor).
This whole ordeal wouldn't have even bothered you, had it not been for Atsumu's unfortunate presence in your life. If you had a Galleon for every time that a girl approached you asking for advice about Atsumu (because for some reason, your constant bickering has led them all to believe that you're somewhat close to him), you would easily make up for Shirabu's Quidditch World Cup bet.
In short, Atsumu Miya is a pain in your ass that you can’t get rid of.
Even in your seventh year, it seems like Atsumu hasn’t matured one bit, still every bit as irritating and obnoxious as ever.
At this rate, you don't think he'll ever change.
After the Sorting Ceremony and feast end (you made sure to eat extra treacle tart, as usual), you line up with the rest of the seventh years to lead your underclassmen to the common room. You notice a first year trip and take a pretty hard fall on his way up the staircase, and you pause to make sure he's alright. When he doesn't get up after a few moments, you decide go and check up on him, gently pushing past your fellow Ravenclaws that are continuing up.
"Are you okay?" You bend down and place a soothing hand on the little boy's back, shielding him from the crowds of Ravenclaws passing by. You're astonished that nobody else had noticed the boy on the ground. Then again, he is extremely tiny; you swear the first years get smaller every year.
"I-I'm alright!" The rather chubby boy exclaims, his face turning bright red as he looks up at you. "So pretty..." he mutters under his breath. You pretend not to hear him for the sake of both of your embarrassments.
"Here, can you stand up?" You support the first year as he attempts to wobble onto his feet.
"Think I twisted my ankle," he says so quietly that you almost have to strain to hear him.
"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing. Follow me." You conjure up a long, white bandage that wraps itself snugly around the poor boy's ankle. With your support, he is able to hobble down the corridors without too much pain.
The entire time, you try not to notice the little boy, bless his soul, staring at you like you're an angel sent straight from heaven. It makes you a little uncomfortable, and it's in a slightly relieved manner with which you pull open the door to the Hospital Wing.
"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey, this student injured his ankle — " you barely get the words of your mouth before the concerned nurse takes the boy from you, ushering him to a hospital bed.
"Yes, yes, thank you very much, (L/N)," she mumbles absentmindedly. "Don't worry, I'll make quick work of this."
"Do you need me to stay and wait?" you ask.
"No need, I'll ask a ghost to escort him back to Ravenclaw Tower." You see the way the boy's face pales significantly at the mention of ghosts, and you feel a bit of pity.
"Actually, I think I'll stick around for a few minutes."
"You're a seventh year, right?" The first year, who you found out is named Takeru Oikawa, asks you with wide, round eyes filled with awe. His ankle is all patched up and ready to go, and he's skipping along next to you as the pair of you head down the corridor towards Ravenclaw Tower.
"Mmhmm," you hum. "If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask me, okay?"
"Yes, (L/N)-san!" Takeru flushes pink.
You chuckle quietly to yourself, picking up the eagle door knocker on Ravenclaw Tower's door and letting it fall with a dull thud.
"Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?" The heavy, bronze knocker asks.
"A circle has no beginning," you reply, and the door swings open.
"Thank you so much, (L/N)-san!" Takeru waves to you, a toothy grin on his face, before rushing off towards the boys' dormitories. You wave back with a smile of your own. You hope he stays out of trouble.
You make your way towards your own dormitory, softly humming the Sorting Hat's song that had reverberated throughout the Great Hall a few hours earlier. As soon as you open your dormitory's door, you're met with the sight of Kiyoko and your other roommates, Eri, Runa, and Mako, all sitting up in their beds, peering at you with concern and curiosity.
"Where were you?" Kiyoko questions as you stroll to your bed and collapse on it, still fully dressed in your robes.
"Helping a first year who got hurt," you reply, your voice slightly muffled by your sheets.
"Oh, gee. We thought that perhaps Miya finally made a move on you," Runa says dreamily with a giggle. You groan. Not this shit again.
"Did you see the way he looked at (Y/N) today?" Eri sing-songs.
"With disgust?" comes your dry comment.
"No! It was like he wants to kiss you so bad, or maybe get you in his be — OW!" You cut off Mako's words with a pillow to her face.
"Not funny," you grumble.
"C'mon, leave (Y/N) alone. Miya's an asshole," says Kiyoko, the only voice of reason.
"Give him a chance! That poor boy's so in love with you!" Eri sighs dramatically.
"I don't know what your idea of love is, but whatever Miya has for me is definitely not it," you scoff. "He hates me just as much as I hate him."
You miss the way your four roommates share a skeptical glance.
"Maybe he doesn't express it in the best way," Runa admits. "But he means well."
"'Means well', my ass." You drive your face further into your bed, as if trying to snuff out any thoughts of Atsumu Miya.
"What about when he tried to ask you to the Yule Ball in our fifth year?" Mako brings up.
"For the last time, he wasn't trying to ask me. He was trying to humiliate me since he knew that no one else had invited me."
"Or the way he turns around and winks at you during every Quidditch match he sees you at?"
"Because he wants to annoy me."
"When he offered to buy you a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks?"
"Probably would've poisoned it."
"How about when he tried to give you flowers on Valentine's Day last term?"
"Those weren't for me. He just shoved them in my face and asked me if red roses are really my favorite."
"Well, aren't they?!"
"He was trying to give them to you, dummy!"
"No, he wasn't!"
"Don't you ever notice how he stares at you across the corridor all the time with a lovesick look on his face?"
"He does not."
"Lay off her," Kiyoko jumps in, trying to defend poor you. "Even if Miya does have feelings for her, he's always a little shit towards her. (Y/N) deserves better." Even Runa, Eri, and Mako can't argue with that logic.
"Exactly. I'd rather go out with a squid from the Black Lake," you grumble. Your friends all laugh. "Enough about Miya. I don't even want to think about him."
"Alright, we'll let it all go just for tonight," Eri chirps, and you simply sigh.
"How was everyone's summer break?" Kiyoko butts in, effectively turning the topic of conversation away from Atsumu, and you shoot her a grateful look.
"It was great! Mum and I visited Egypt," Runa announces.
"That's so cool! What did you see there?" Mako questions excitedly.
"Oh, the pyramids were beautiful! They were fascinating, but you know who was even more fascinating?" A far-off look crosses Runa's face, and you all groan.
"Who did you fall in love with this time?" Eri deadpans.
"Hey, he was cute!" Runa shoots back indignantly.
"That's what you say about everyone," Kiyoko says pointedly.
"You're all so mean to me!" Runa dramatically flops back onto her bed, earning teasing laughter from the rest of you.
It's a bit saddening to know that this will be the last year you'll be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Part of you almost envies those little first years at the Sorting Ceremony earlier that night; so full of wonder and amazement with so much to discover. You wish you could turn back time and relive the six years you've spent here once more.
But as you chatter away with the friends you've held close and dear across the past six years of schooling, something within you knows that perhaps, it might be the beginning of the most special year yet.
Your first official day of classes is going quite well. You've enjoyed your lessons so far, each one smooth-sailing and simple as the introductory units should be. You're relieved that Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy have all gotten off to a good start.
You’re just minding your business, holding your books tight to your chest on your way to Potions class. Your mind is wandering to what kind of food the kitchen elves would be serving for lunch today, and whether Kiyoko, the only one who seems to actually take her studies seriously these days, would want to meet up in the common room to compare Arithmancy notes.
"(L/N)-san!" You look to your right to see Takeru smiling brightly at you, and waving, hurrying across the corridor towards you.
"Hi, Takeru," you greet kindly. "How's your day been so far? Is your ankle bothering you at all?"
"It's been great! And no, not even a bit, thanks to you!" Takeru gazes at you with reverence reserved for a goddess. You smile a bit sheepishly, a little puzzled by his overwhelming respect for you but amused nonetheless.
"I'm always happy to help — "
Your conversation is quickly and rudely interrupted by a certain someone.
"Hey, shrimp. Whatcha doin' 'round here? Yer classes can't be anywhere near this area durin' this time of day." Atsumu Miya.
"I-I'm so sorry!" Poor Takeru stutters, backing away from the tall, blonde seventh year leering down at him.
"Relax, he was just going on his way." You glare at Atsumu. "You're scaring him."
"Good," Atsumu replies, eyes drilling into Takeru, who's shaking like a leaf.
"Don't mind him, Takeru. Be careful, okay? Maybe we'll see each other again."
"(L/N)-san, i-is that your b-boyfriend?" Takeru takes a step back as Atsumu continues to sneer condescendingly.
"No!" you exclaim.
"Yes," Atsumu declares at the same time.
Takeru looks from you to Atsumu, confusion written all over his face. But he's smart enough not to pry into the seemingly very complex situation that the pair of you are entangled in.
"Alright, th-thank you again, (L/N)-san!" He scampers away quickly.
"Why did you do that? He's just a first year!" You round on Atsumu, but sadly, thanks to the rather large size difference between the two of you, he isn't intimidated in the slightest. The way he has to tilt his head way down to look at you is just a little humiliating.
"He was lookin' at you with creepy googly-eyes. Don't trust kids these days, (L/N). Ya never know what's goin' on in their little heads." Atsumu shrugs, casually adjusting his green and silver striped tie like he didn't just scare away an innocent eleven year old.
"The person I shouldn't be trusting is you, Miya," you retort.
"Yeah, yer right, ya shouldn't be." He smirks, cocking an eyebrow at you. You scowl; you're not about to let your morning be ruined by him.
"Right, so stay away from me."
Without giving Atsumu a chance to do so much as open his mouth one more time, you immediately speed-walk down the corridor, far, far away from him.
“Oi, (L/N)!” You grit your teeth upon hearing the familiar smug tone of his voice continue follow you to your class.
“Screw off, Miya. I’m not in the mood to deal with you today,” you snap as he falls in step beside you, anyway.
“Aww, why so grumpy, sweetheart?” he teases, not the least bit fazed by your cold words.
“I thought I told you to screw off,” you repeat, glowering at Atsumu.
“Didja forget? Slytherin has joint Potions with Ravenclaw today, I’m just goin’ in the same direction as ya,” he informs you, smirking slightly. You blanch at the reminder. “Ya know, for a Ravenclaw, ya sure are dumb.”
“Shut the hell up,” you grumble. He continues to babble some nonsense in your ear as the two of you stride down the corridor to your class, with you not even bothering to listen to what kind of shit he has to say.
“Ya smell like strawberry again,” he suddenly remarks. “That yer shampoo or somethin’?”
“Yeah. What about it?” you respond, unamused. “And by the way, are you aware of how unpleasant your cologne smells?” You won’t ever admit that you actually like the musky, woodsy scent.
“The other ladies like it, sounds ta me like ya don’t have a sense of smell.” He smirks, running a hand through his blonde undercut. Your frown deepens at how unfairly attractive the gesture is.
“Okay then, stinky,” you say dismissively, pretending to plug your nose.
“Whatever, troll,” he responds with an irritated huff, and the corners of your mouth turn up at your victory.
However, much to both of your distastes, with your bantering, you end up being late to Potions.
“Miya. (L/N). You are late,” Professor Snape barks. “And on the first day of term, too. How very disappointing. Ten points from Slytherin and Ravenclaw, and detention for both of you.”
You and Atsumu roll your eyes, before suddenly and simultaneously coming to the horrid realization that, since everyone else had already paired up, you are now partners with each other for the lesson.
You occupy one of the chairs at the last empty desk in the corner of the room, now in a sour mood. Atsumu slides into the seat next to you, looking equally unenthusiastic. With how the two of you get along, you would definitely receive bad marks for this lesson, especially since Snape is already pissed off.
“Today we are making amortentia,” Snape drones. “Does anyone know what this potion does?”
Keiji Akaashi, a fellow Ravenclaw, raises his hand. “It’s the most powerful love potion in existence, and makes the drinker become madly infatuated with whoever brewed the potion, sir.”
“Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw.” You’re relieved that Keiji is already able to earn back half the points you lost. You don't want anyone grilling your ass about house points later. “And can anyone tell me what the characteristics of amortentia are?”
You find yourself daydreaming about lunch again; Merlin’s beard, you are seriously hungry. You hadn’t really eaten breakfast, as you had woken up late after catching up with your roommates well into the wee hours of the night. After a whole summer apart, the five of you had talked and chatted and gossiped until light began to filter through the window. Thus, you all ended up missing the first meal of the day.
What you would do for a treacle tart right now.
“(L/N).” Your thoughts are interrupted by a rude smack to the head. You grimace in disdain for a moment before you pale at the sight of Professor Snape holding a notebook in his hand, the item he had used to hit you with. “Pay attention to the lesson.” SMACK! This time, his blow is to Atsumu, who had also been sitting with glazed eyes and an unhinged jaw. “You as well, Miya. Your amortentia better be flawless or I’ll make sure your detentions are extended until the end of the term.”
“Fuckin’ hell, grouchy asshat,” Atsumu mutters under his breath, and for once in your life, you agree with him.
“You may begin work on your amortentia potions immediately,” Snape continues, thankfully choosing to ignore Atsumu’s comment. “Directions are on page five-hundred sixty-four of your textbook.”
“(L/N), is yer dumbass any good at potions?” Atsumu has the nerve the question you.
“I got an O on my OWLs for Potions, Miya; otherwise I wouldn't be in this class,” you retort, flipping to the correct page in your book. “I’ll go gather the ingredients, you preheat the cauldron to the temperature given in the book.”
“Yes, commander,” the blonde replies mockingly.
“I’m not letting you screw up my Potions grade; don’t mess around or else,” you warn.
“Yeah, yeah, I got an O for Potions as well, Miss Perfect. I know what I’m doin’,” he reassures you with an eyeroll. You ignore his attitude and head towards the supply closet to grab the materials needed.
“Ashwinder egg... peppermint... rose thorn...” you mumble as you retrieve the materials off the shelves. "...Ah, crap." The pearl dust is on too high of a shelf for you to reach.
"Need help?" Yukie, a Slytherin girl who's a good few inches taller than you, offers.
"Yes, please," you say sheepishly, stepping aside to allow her to retrieve the ingredient for you.
“You're partners with Miya, right?" Yukie's best friend Kaori asks you. You nod. "Ah, have fun with that."
"Yeah," Yukie chimes in, handing you a jar of pearl dust before reaching back up to take one for herself. "Hope he's not like the last time I was partnered with him."
"What did he do?" you ask out of curiosity.
"Shoved me aside and insisted on doing all the work himself." Yukie rolls her eyes. "Got in trouble with Snape because of it."
"Ass." Kaori sighs. "Good luck with him, (Y/N)."
"Thanks..." You laugh nervously and give them a small nod to say goodbye.
You were not planning on starting off in Potions with a bad grade, and yet here you are.
You're still worrying a bit as you bring the ingredients back to where Atsumu had finished preparing the cauldron. You place the materials on your shared table, eyes darting to look everywhere but at him as you search for a distraction.
“...Nice fans you got over there,” you comment sarcastically after a moment, subtly flicking your chin in the direction of a few girls who keep glancing enviously in your direction.
“Jealous?” Atsumu smirks. “Doncha worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart, ya know I only have eyes for you.” You make a disgusted gagging noise.
“Well I don’t want your eyes on me,” you counter, finally daring to make eye contact with him. “I’d rather have your brother.”
Osamu, who’s a few tables away from you with Rintarou as his partner, suddenly can feel a storm coming.
“What?!” the blonde boy exclaims. “Ugly ‘Samu? Over me?”
“You have the same face,” you scoff, unbothered as you begin to add the ingredients to the cauldron per the instructions in your textbook.
“I’m so much better than shitty ‘Samu,” he complains, and you know you’ve hit a nerve. From your endless banter over seven years, you’ve figured out by now that he absolutely hates it when people prefer Osamu over him.
Personally, you do actually prefer Osamu over Atsumu. You are on good terms with Osamu, as you politely greet each other in the halls or in classes, and occasionally, he and Rintarou would ask you for help on homework (okay, maybe for just the answers, but that's besides the point).
You never had this kind of peaceful interaction with Atsumu, only constant bickering and jabbing.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Atsumu suddenly questions. You raise your eyebrows. “I can tell the gears in yer small brain are turnin’ real hard.”
“Just thinking about how I like Osamu so much more than I like you,” you tell him nonchalantly, watching in satisfaction as his smug smile wipes clean off his face.
“The hell ya talkin’ about?!” he cries out. “Shitty ‘Samu’s got nothin’ on me!”
“Mmm,” you hum in a non-committal manner. “Anyway, pass me the powdered moonstone.” He scowls but hands you the jar.
“Why d’ya like ‘Samu more than me, (L/N)?” Atsumu gripes. “I’m clearly the cooler twin.”
“You just keep telling yourself that,” you say mildly, calmly stirring the mixture in your cauldron.
“Hmph.” Atsumu huffs like the man child he is, crossing his arms over his chest.
The two of you continue to work in silence, even with Atsumu in a grumpy mood. At least he does somewhat help you with the amortentia, which you are very relieved for, since it is an advanced and powerful potion that you aren’t sure you could manage to make yourself, something that you’d never admit to Atsumu. You also relax a bit in knowing that he isn't intending on treating you like he did to Yukie, hanging her out to dry in the wrath of Professor Snape. The work is split pretty evenly between the two of you, at least evenly enough that Snape didn't have anything to say about it.
Ten minutes before class ends, you and Atsumu finish the amortentia.
The mixture has an aesthetically-pleasing, shiny silver sheen, with a gentle stream of steam billowing from the top. It looks like it should, which means that it most likely went right. The only thing left is to test the scent.
“You first,” you say, inviting Atsumu to catch a whiff of the potion before you. That way, if it ends up smelling terrible, he would be the one to experience it, not you. He seems to pick up on this intention, as he shows you a very unkind finger before leaning in to take in the potion’s scent.
He reels back.
“Does it smell bad?” you quip, although based on his reaction, the answer is pretty clear.
“No,” he says, surprising you. “It just...” He cuts himself off to glare at you. “Merlin’s Beard, (L/N). How much of yer damn strawberry shampoo do ya use, anyway? It reeks.” You grimace at his accusation.
“Excuse me?” You defend yourself. “I use a normal amount, thank you very much!” Since he apparently won’t tell you what the stupid amortentia smells like, you decide to smell it for yourself.
Almost immediately, the musky, woodsy scent of pine, grass, and something warm and inviting fills your nose. You jerk back from the cauldron the same way Atsumu did, your eyes wide.
“You’re the one telling me that I reek?! Speak for yourself, asshole, did you spray your whole bottle of cologne on yourself this morning?!”
“How many bottles of shampoo do you go through in a week?!”
“Haven’t you ever thought about the fact that you can spray too much cologne?!”
The entire class watches you argue back and forth, stunned how two students who had made such an advanced potion absolutely perfectly could be so dense.
Even Professor Snape is slightly amused by the situation, not bothering to break up your argument for the sake of his own entertainment.
“You’re the worst, Miya!”
“Right back at cha, (L/N)!”
“Hey, dumbasses,” Osamu suddenly cuts in, and the two of you whip your heads to look at him indignantly.
“What?!” you both exclaim, fire in your eyes. Osamu sighs.
“Doncha know what amortentia is supposed ta smell like? Look at yer textbook.” Atsumu and you both look down at your textbooks.
‘Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them.‘
“According to what...” you mutter.
“Attracts them...” Atsumu finishes quietly. The two of you immediately turn bright red while the whole class roars with laughter at the sudden realization.
Just then, the class bell strikes, signaling the end of class, and ending your and Atsumu’s misery, for now.
Atsumu and you quickly gather your things, your faces still burning and unable to look at each other. It all seems so stupid; the two of you are seventh years but acting like first years who had just found out what a crush is.
“Mr. Miya, Miss (L/N). Do not think I’ve forgotten about your detentions,” Professor Snape drawls from the front of the room. “Meet me here tonight at eight o’clock, I will have you grade the first years’ potions pre-exams.” Ah, yes. Professor Snape's infamous pre-test that he gives to all first years on their first day to "test their knowledge" (you're sure it's just an excuse to humiliate vulnerable first years). You remember you had a breakdown because you had no idea how to answer any of the questions.
“Yes sir,” you chorus in unison, although you are both internally screaming.
The two of you hurry out of the classroom, shoulder to shoulder but not once looking at each other.
Osamu and Rintarou are waiting outside for him, and upon seeing them, Atsumu straightens up quickly, glancing briefly at you his usual smirk back on his face. You sigh. Him and his big, fat ego.
You give him a look of scorn at his sudden change in attitude before walking in the opposite direction to your next class. You tell yourself not to think too much of it. So Atsumu likes the way you smell. Cool. It’s not like that means he loves you or something.
And even though you have to admit that you like the way he smells, you know, for absolutely fucking sure, that you do not love him.
You are not attracted to Atsumu Miya. You just appreciate his cologne, and that's it.
Keep telling yourself that, a voice in your head teases you.
You miss the way that chocolate eyes follow after you as you leave the corridor, burning into your back with their intensity.
You sit anxiously at a random desk in Professor Snape’s classroom, right foot tapping nervously against the floor. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Will you stop that, (L/N),” Snape grouches as an order, not a request. You immediately obey, but this doesn’t calm the nerves in your stomach.
Atsumu is twenty minutes late, and Snape hasn’t given you any work to start doing yet, which definitely means that you would be kept in here for even longer.
“Asshole can’t even show up on time,” you groan under your breath.
“Sorry I’m late, Professor, sir!” Atsumu comes flying in, his blonde hair messy, his robes wrinkled, and his green tie halfway in place. “I was... occupied.” There's sweat running down his neck and he's out-of-breath. There are fresh red marks on his hands, likely from his grip on his Beater bat, and you swear you see a few blades of grass nestled in his hair and on his clothes. It's clear he had just come from Quidditch practice, which is unsurprising for him, but did he really have to stay on the pitch long enough to make himself late and extend your misery?
“Learn to be punctual, Mr. Miya. At least Miss (L/N) learned from her mistake from earlier today,” Snape snaps, before waving his wand to distribute a stack of papers onto your desk and the desk next to you. “Begin your work now.”
A small spark of annoyance erupts in you when Atsumu sits himself next to you, even though you knew he had every reason to, as Snape had dropped the papers onto that desk, after all. Still, having him in such close proximity makes irritation course through your veins.
You and Atsumu grade the exams in silence, with Snape watching the two of you like a hawk.
About an hour into the two-hour long detention, Professor McGonagall appears in the classroom doorway.
“Professor Snape, the Headmaster is looking for you.” She glances at you and Atsumu, and you both blink owlishly at her upon her intrusion. “Ah, detention students?”
“Yes,” Snape replies in a bored manner. “If the Headmaster wishes to see me, I will go.”
“Do you need me to stay and watch these students, Professor?”
“Hm.” Snape gives you a once-over, before shaking his head. “They’re seventh years. Don’t bother.” Then the two of them leave you and Atsumu alone in the otherwise-empty classroom.
The only sounds that fill the room are the scratching sounds of your and Atsumu’s quills. It’s the most awkward almost-silence you’ve ever experienced.
...That is, until Atsumu decides to break it.
“Hey.” His tone isn’t teasing or accusatory for once. He sounds serious. “About earlier today. With the amortentia.”
“What about it?” you quip, not taking your attention off the exam you are grading. Merlin’s Beard, how could anyone get the question ‘What are the effects of the Polyjuice Potion?’ wrong? It's the pre-exam, you remind yourself. It was their first day of class. They haven't learned anything yet.
“...I like you, (L/N).” You drop your quill in surprise at his sudden confession. Whatever you were expecting to hear from him, this was definitely not it.
“What?” you ask dumbly.
“Are ya deaf?” Atsumu reaches down to pick up your quill for you, setting the writing utensil back onto your desk. “I said I like you.”
“...Huh?” you say hollowly. Your brain can't quite register the words coming out of his mouth. Were your friends really onto something?
“I...” He clears his throat. “I’ve liked ya since the beginnin’, ever since we met on the train."
“You...” you start slowly, turning to face him. "...like me?"
"Yeah," Atsumu replies easily. "I do." Your mouth falls slightly ajar.
"I..." You're at a brief loss for words.
“So.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Are ya acceptin’ my love, sweetheart?” You take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts and get your emotions back in order.
“This isn’t a funny joke, Miya.” You sigh, shaking your head in utter disbelief. There are so many questions running through your head right now, but you don't want to hear him attempt to entertain them. This simply has to be a prank. “Get back to grading.” His smile shrinks.
“S'not a joke,” he tells you rather quietly, and you almost cave. Almost.
"How am I supposed to believe that? You told me yourself this morning that I shouldn't trust you."
"This time I'm not messin' around — " He pauses, realizing that he's not really helping his case. "Look, (L/N), I wouldn't lie about this."
"Isn't your fan club enough for you? Does it kill you that much that there are people who don't go kissing the ground you walk on?" You snap back irritably. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but stop. I've had enough."
Atsumu opens his mouth to speak again, but slowly closes it as you completely turn your attention away from him. You know you are being a bit harsh, but you can’t care less. You're done with Atsumu Miya’s bullshit for one day, that’s for sure. The sudden confession makes absolutely no sense, and you have no reason to believe in his feelings since he's always just made sure to be a thorn in your side for seven years. How is that supposed to equate to romantic feelings?
An hour later, after Professor Snape had returned from Dumbledore’s office and the two of you finished grading the exams, you are finally let go from detention.
You and Atsumu walk silently side by side, until you reach the fork in the hallways where you are supposed to separate.
Before you can make the turn towards the Ravenclaw Tower, Atsumu catches your wrist in a strong, but surprisingly gentle grip.
“(L/N).” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden use of your first name. “Please, listen for a second.”
“Okay.” A pause. “It’s been a second, goodbye.” You try to tug away but to no avail. “Miya, I swear to — “ you’re cut off by him suddenly pulling your body into his arms, crushing your face into his broad chest. You almost melt at the tender way he holds you, like you are the most fragile object in the entire world. Embarrassingly enough, the tension and irritation in your body evaporates almost immediately. His hands move to rest on your waist, you feel him lean down a little to prop his chin on top of your head.
The hallways are empty at this time of night, as it is just a few minutes before curfew. Would you be embarrassed if someone finds you like this? Absolutely. But would you want to leave his embrace? Absolutely not, you find yourself thinking.
You really think you might be going crazy.
“...Sorry. Jus’ wanna hold ya and pretend for a second that ya don’t hate me.” You feel your heart pang painfully at his words.
“I... I don’t hate you,” you say before you stop yourself. Atsumu stills.
“Ya don’t?” he asks uncertainly.
“...I don’t,” you confirm shakily.
As much as you want to claim that you do, there's something stopping you from doing so.
You feel his hands move from your waist to your cheeks, softly lifting your face off his chest and tilting you up to look him right in the eye. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.
“Yer gorgeous, ya know that?” he tells you breathlessly.
“So I’m not a troll? Or a dementor? Or a kappa?” You recite several of the names he’s called you over the years.
“No,” Atsumu answers without a single trace of mirth in his eyes. This is so unusual, you almost want him to insult you just to confirm that he hasn’t been possessed or something. “I... yer really pretty.” You feel yourself flush involuntarily. Instead of making fun of you for your reaction like you thought he would, a wistful sheen layers itself over his eyes as his thumb traces your left cheekbone. “I like you, okay? Do as ya please with that information, everyone knows about it already, anyway."
"W-What?" you stammer, startled by that last remark.
"Yeah. Everyone knew. Except yer dumb ass, of course."
"Hey!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to shove him away, but he refuses to let go.
"Sorry, sorry." Atsumu chuckles softly into your hair. "That just... slipped out." Then he shuts his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Sorry 'bout all this, (L/N). I just thought that, after the whole amortentia thing, maybe ya liked me back. But it must’ve been a fluke on yer end. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
You stare up at him in silence. His thick eyebrows are drawn together in frustration, and his usual smirking mouth is tight-lipped and down-turned. You’ve never seen him look this... distressed.
“...Atsumu.” His eyes snap open at the sound of you saying his given name.
“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately.
“You’re really not messing with me?” A small quiver of uncertainty is present in your voice, one that causes Atsumu’s frown to grow deeper.
“M'not,” he insists. “M'really not, (Y/N). I like ya a lot.” You take a moment the process his words, nervously biting your lower lip.
“I don’t trust you,” you confess, suddenly not able to meet the intense gaze he keeps on you. “You’ve messed with me for seven years, Miya. How could I know that this isn’t just some dumb prank?”
“Lemme kiss ya,” he suddenly requests. Your body stiffens like a board against his, your eyes bug out of your head, and your mouth drops in shock.
“W-What?” you stammer intelligently.
“Jus’ wanna kiss ya.” The low baritone of his voice, usually so bright and teasing, sends shivers down your spine at its new sensuality. “Please.”
The light circles he draws on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and the genuine, pleading look in his chocolate eyes are enough to send you over the edge.
Against your better judgement, you let out a small ‘Okay’ from your trembling lips. You watch as many emotions flicker in Atsumu’s eyes, everything from hesitation to desire to uncertainty to nervousness to affection.
His face draws closer to yours, now mere centimeters away. Your eyes naturally fall shut, and you wait for his lips to press against yours.
But it never comes.
Instead, you feel one of Atsumu’s hands leave your cheek and drop down to grasp your right hand, before lifting your hand up. You open your eyes in surprise just in time to see him press his lips against each of your knuckles, one by one, his gaze no longer focused on yours, but fully trained on your small hand that he worships with kisses.
“Soft,” he whispers against your skin. You feel electricity shoot through your veins with every brush of his mouth against your hand, your body growing warmer and warmer with each passing second.
When he finishes kissing the last knuckle of your tiny pinky, he switches to your other hand, doing the exact same thing. You feel your blush creep down to your neck and threaten to overtake your entire body.
What the hell is Atsumu Miya doing to you? Weren’t the two of you arguing and glaring at each other mere hours ago? And why are you enjoying this so much?
“Is this how you charm the two hundred girls of your fan club?” you quip, trying to clear your mind and pull yourself together. No matter how caring and affectionate he seems to be right now, Atsumu Miya is still Atsumu Miya, a cocky, troublesome jerk who constantly likes to get under your skin.
“I don't do any charming,” he replies seriously, skimming his lips along your ring finger. “They come to me, and I wouldn't bother with anyone else if I had you." You start feeling a bit lightheaded; this is too much; he is too much.
“It’s nearly past curfew,” you remind him softly. “We should get going.” Atsumu presses one last lingering kiss against your left pinky before slowly and reluctantly letting go of your hand.
“Yeah,” he agrees rather sulkily. “We should.” Atsumu looks you in the eye again, and you can feel yourself go weak in the knees despite the simple action. “I really do like you. Now that ya know, there’s no use in pretendin’ anymore. You’ll have me chasin’ after ya from now on.”
“Is that a threat?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Hmm.” A smirk crosses his face, and instead of irritating you like it usually does, it only makes your stomach twist nervously. “If ya want it to be.” He takes a few steps away from you in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. “S'pretty late, sweetheart. Better get goin’, hmm? Wouldn’t wanna get caught with the big, bad Slytherin.”
“Big and bad?” You snort. “Like anyone would ever think that of you.” His chocolate eyes glitter mischievously.
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” He grins. “Let’s see how long you’ll hold against me till ya become my girl, (L/N),” Annoyance spikes into your system, and suddenly, Atsumu seems like Atsumu again, with his infuriating smirk and arrogant aura. You narrow your eyes at him in retaliation.
“Fine. Let’s just see then, Miya.”
Please leave any feedback you may have! Thanks for reading!-
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superbat highschool au - Halloween
[warning for: non consensual kissing, implied abusive living situations]
As Halloween grew closer, Tommy (bundled up in the same scarf and loafers as Bruce) asked if anyone had plans for the evening.
Clark hadn’t celebrated Halloween in a couple of years now. Not really. Maybe a Halloween party here or there but that was it. Houses were too far spaced out for trick-or-treat back home.
“Uh, I mean I think Bruce ‘n I were going to head to the library again, but--” Clark began, looking to the other boy for confirmation.
Bruce began to nod, but--
“No, Bruce and I are gonna go out on the town,” Tommy said, swinging his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and tugging him close.
“...Tommy, curfew exists,” Bruce said, huffing a little.
“Not if we break it, it doesn't,” he said, grinning.
“Uh, okay. Is that an invitation then?” Clark smirked.
Breaking curfew once wouldn’t get him expelled.
“It can be,” Tommy said. “Harv?”
Harvey gave him a look that called him an idiot.
“Gotham on Halloween?” he said. “You're not exactly strolling around the hill houses for candy.”
“Is it bad?” Clark asked. “I’ve actually never been off school grounds.”
He’d never seen the city.
“Halloween’s crazy for crime everywhere,” future lawyer Harvey Dent said flatly. “It's thematic.”
And if Gotham didn't follow a trend towards the thematic… whew.
Bruce just seemed to be taking a moment to be stunned that Clark hadn't been anywhere outside the school.
“Okay,” he said, turning to Tommy. “What’s the plan?”
“I was thinkin’ ice cream and bowling,” Tommy said, grinning. “You wanna plan our escape?”
(Bruce had been thinking too much about the library lately. It was time to steer him towards literally any other thinking direction)
And Bruce nodded, accepting that assignment.
“Sounds fun.” Clark said, shrugging on his jacket.
“So how do you usually sneak out?”
“Badly,” Harvey said, still crossing his arms and clearly not pleased.
“Dodge the guards. Hop the gate,” Bruce said. “Not hard. Easier with a rope. Getting in again’s worse.”
“Cause they actually expect it,” Tommy explained before there were any questions.
“But at least we’re only on the second floor this year. If we weigh down the curtains and leave the window open it shouldn't be noticeable.”
“If it helps any I can jump pretty high,” Clark said. “So you shouldn’t have to worry much about me keeping up.”
Totally within normal human standards. Yes.
Bruce snorted. Laughed almost.
“The gate’s ten feet at lowest,” he said. “Plus spikes.”
Clark was so stuck between keeping everything under cover and bragging. He could fly since he was 10. Ten feet was nothing. Ten feet was laughable.
He opened his mouth, swallowed, and sighed.
Keep it under wraps.
The boys just huddled together again, nodding and still discussing. “So, do we need rope? Or are we gonna be able to grip the bars?”
“I need the rope,” Harvey said miserably.
“Got it,” Tommy said. “Leave it to me.”
“Please don't steal stuff and get us in more trouble when we get caught.”
“Never,” Tommy promised. “As if Bruce and I would get caught.”
(Bruce laughed then, but it was anxious for different reasons, then.)
“I’ll be able to grip the bars.” Clark said, for what little it was worth. For a moment he even considered offering to carry Harvey over on his back, but he thought maybe that was too much.
Could kids his age carry kids their own size on their backs?
He looked pensive for a moment.
No. Probably not.
“Anything I can help with?”
Tommy shook his head just as Bruce did.
“Lay low,” Bruce said. “...have any hats?”
Clark thought about that before turning and digging through his things.
He slapped on an old, beat up John Deere baseball cap.
Bruce made a distressed face.
“...have any other hats?”
“I gotta winter hat but it’s not that cold out.”
“What’s wrong with my hat?”
“That Bruce’s gotta wear it,” Tommy said, grinning.
… Clark grinned, took off the hat, and shoved it onto Bruce.
“Nnnooo,” Bruce said, hat shoved onto his head and shoved down even more securely by Tommy.
It tilted his dark hair out of place and looked completely out of place with his ironed white oxford and school blazer.
“It suits ya.” Clark grinned.
It really didn’t.
“You're a shit liar,” Bruce said.
“Quick, get the smallest shirt you have, Kent. He still sticks out too much!”
“Just use some of mi--” Harvey started to say.
But that got hushed as Tommy urged them into a game of Bruce Dressup, and Halloween grew ever closer, until finally the night arrived.
Clark couldn’t do anything about Bruce’s very pressed pants, but he could find a small shirt for him.
‘Small’ being relative.
Bruce would drown in it a little, but at least in the end he didn’t stand out so much in his old ratty John Deere hat.
And when the night arrived he followed their lead.
….Bruce, unwillingly, donned the shirt and cap when it was finally time, looking a bit more like a ruffian with the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the cap on his uncombed hair.
It made him look shorter. His face seemed rounder. Almost puppyish.
He was a very determined looking puppy as they rigged up their window so that the corner of the bunk bed jutted into view of the opening.
Tommy had, indeed, acquired a rope from somewhere, and they tied one end into a loop, tossing it around the shallow jut of the bedpost and getting ready.
Tommy was lookout as Bruce descended first.
Then Harvey. They'd wait for Clark. Tommy last. They flicked the rope until it came loose from the bedpost, gathered it up, and raced to the gate, sneaking around the buildings and in the bushes in the low light.
The gate was closed for the night, and they snuck under the desk guard to reach it.
Again, Bruce took it first, climbing up between the bars using the traction on his shoe to get up.
The rope was thrown over between the spokes at the top. Used to control their descent.
He ushered Clark to mimic him once he'd made it to the other side and decided it was clear. Harvey had to have his foot in the loop and he pulled over to make it.
Tommy went last again, staying behind to make sure Harvey had someone to catch him if he fell.
And they were outside.
It was hard for Clark to do things like these guys.
He… might have flown a little to descend out of the window a little faster, but kept his feet on the wall and his hands gripped to the rope so at least it looked like he was doing it like everyone else.
The gate though.
He tried to mimic Bruce as best he could, but it looked a little too… flawless. He didn’t strain or land on the other side very hard.
But they had made it.
… And outside, in the dark, there was even more light for his eyes to catch than usual.
He was lucky the boys were largely too focused on their own descents to notice.
That streetlights were common enough to make his eyes look somewhat normal for the moment.
Once they were on the street, Tommy and Harvey definitely took the lead, steering them up north of the academy, to a slightly more crowded--and festive--area.
“Is this what you guys do every year?” Clark asked anyone who wanted to answer.
He always kinda wondered what these rich city kids did for fun.
“What? No way,” Tommy said. “I mean. That'd be nice…”
Harvey shook his head, too. His hands were wrapped around his elbows in a self-protective hug. “Normally wouldn't be able to get away with it.”
“Besides. Our old roommate was really bad at stuff,” Tommy added. “Like not getting all of us in trouble.”
“Spent last year in detention,” Bruce mumbled.
(By now, Clark knew that didn't necessarily mean Bruce had done anything to deserve detention.
It could've just been he'd been around while someone did something. Or been the dorm mate of someone who did something.
...Harvey’s caving to come made more sense if he would just be punished anyway, if they were caught.)
“So, what, you just spend Halloween in your dorm studying? That’s… a lot less than I expected out here.” Clark said, not looking as defensive as maybe he should have been in Gotham of all places, hands in his pockets and head up.
(Bruce kept his head down and the baseball cap over his eyes.)
“...what did you think we did?” Bruce asked. “Orgies? I'm taking you out for ice cream and bowling, Kent.”
“I dunno… parties? I thought that's what rich kids did. Go to clubs. Drink. That kinda thing.”
“... Not that I'm saying I want to do those things, but…” Clark shrugged.
All the same, all three kids had paused in walking to stare at him.
“...I wouldn't even be able to set foot out of the house if Mom had her way,” Tommy said, staring.
“....” Bruce just had that look on his face.
“Hey. I worked my way in,” Harvey said.
“I did too!” said Tommy, turning on Harvey a little. “I had to barter to get here.”
Bruce shuffled a little closer to Clark and breathed out, “their dads are the ones who drank all night.”
And that was all he mumbled before trying to step forward and break up the fight again.
The bowling alley would close, late hours or not, if they didn't get a-moving.
“Oh.” He mumbled to Bruce, and started walking too.
“Sorry, I guess the TV makes you think one thing even when it isn't very true. Sounds like I get it more'n you guys.”
Once more they turned, surprised.
“You've fucked?” Tommy said.
He had definitely pegged Clark for a virgin.
Clark nearly tripped over his own feet.
“N-no!! No! God.”
He was beet red.
“Did you mean ‘out’?’” Harvey asked, baffled, at the same time as Tommy said, “oh. Okay. Harv still has company then, at least.”
Bruce could finally see the bowling alley coming up. Extended hours for the weekend.
Ice cream parlor across the street.
“Ugh, shut up.” Clark groaned, following them while rubbing his face to try and get some of the red from his cheeks.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy said, dropping it as they ducked into the building. It was much warmer inside. “...it's not like we have the money to get into clubs or buy alcohol, though. Seriously.”
“TV,” Harvey shrugged, quietly trying to reassure Clark a little that it was fine.
“What’d ya mean? You at least get an allowance, right?” Clark said.
“Even I get an allowance. Or at least paid a little when I help out on the farm.”
….Harvey shook his head. “...my family doesn't have the money for an allowance, anyway.”
Tommy just scowled. “If I see any of my dad’s money it'll be long after mom’s died.”
Meanwhile, Bruce ducked his head, and pulled out a ten dollar bill, handing it to Tommy, who took it and huffed up to the counter to pay, being the one who was clearly not dark-haired Bruce Wayne in a baseball cap and oversized shirt.
“...I get an allowance,” he admitted. “But it's not like I’m going to hike ten miles into the city from the manor to use it.”
“Jeeze…” He mumbled over Tommy talking about his mom needed to die for him to get his dad’s money.
“I guess that makes sense.” He said to Bruce again, watching Tommy pay for them.
“Thanks for treatin’ us though.”
Even if it made sense Bruce would pay for it. Still polite to thank him.
Bruce smiled a little. “Yeah. No problem. It's nice to get out. Thanks for the hat.”
“Shoooes!!” Tommy called once he'd paid, waving them over to change.
A four player game was being set up for them, the first letters of their names being their designations.
And ready to go.
A night away.
Clark smiled back.
He got his change of shoes and then looked around for the heaviest ball they had. It still wouldn’t be enough to offset his throw, but it would help. It was easier not to look too strong when you needed to roll it rather than throw it. It was just a matter of dialing back the momentum.
His first throw though it went way too fast. Nothing that would break everything in its way, but still just too fast.
He would try and hide his distressed face and play it off and… dial it back for the one after that.
The desk manager warned him the ball was probably way too heavy, but thankfully, the other three boys seemed to tack up his wild throw to weight and momentum, laughing wildly as it careened impressively fast-- into the gutter.
“Beautiful!” Tommy whistled at him.
“Like you'll do any better,” Harvey said.
(And Tommy did not.)
But after a few rounds, everyone was adjusting a little better to the balls, and…
Bruce sat beside Clark while waiting his turn, and jeered the others when they missed just like they did him.
And… seemed relaxed and happy for once.
“Hah!” Clark hollered as Tommy did just as poorly as him.
As the night went on though he did get used to rolling the ball down the lane and compensating for how little it weighed to him in comparison.
It was a lot of fun.
He cheered and jeered everyone when they did well or poorly, jabbing them with words just the same as they did him. He tended to stick to Bruce more than Harvey or Tommy. They had grown to know each other a lot better over the past month working on their Court of Owls stuff.
It was good.
This was fun.
He was clapping and laughing along with the rest of them, and upon noticing Bruce looked happy too he would give him a little nudge and a smile.
Happy to see him happy.
Bruce had gotten a lot better at being casual with Clark with their search together the last month, but--
It wasn't as if he smiled much during the investigating. It wasn't like he was giddy over crime scenes. Any excitement he had about finding a pattern quickly turned to seriousness as soon as he had to explain what he’d noticed.
And in school, he said little. Let people part in front of him or walk by him without any seeming preference.
But here, finally, it was just fun.
...through some twist of fate, Harvey’s score was highest at the end of the game.
They had no real way they planned to reward the winner. But it was fine if they just mocked Bruce's place in dead last.
He had wonderful aim, after all--if he was aiming for the gutter.
But when the game ended, Bruce trotted over to the shoes, picking up his and Clark’s, and bringing them back over to change quietly before heading across the street for the last half hour the ice cream parlor would be open.
Bruce didn't have to tell Tommy what he wanted--a float--but Tommy would ask the other two before trotting up once more with Bruce’s cash in hand to pay and order at the counter while the four slid into a booth.
And maybe because Tommy was up paying, Bruce found himself sliding in beside Clark to sit across from Tommy, instead of beside him for once.
Clark’s choice of ice cream was pretty much the most boring of all; a vanilla shake.
He sat on the inside by the window, and didn’t think twice about Bruce sliding in beside him.
“How often have you gone bowling before, Harvey?”
Harvey shook his head. A lot. “Almost none? I think in Jr High we went once as a class trip, but I was terrible at it.”
“Harv has two settings,” Bruce said, leaning his chin on his hand and very carefully not putting his elbow on the table. “Professional, and worst luck ever.”
Clark snorted, “Man now I feel worse, I go bowling like… at least once a year when my friends and I are bored back home. It’s one of the few things to do back in Smallville.”
“Yeah?” Bruce said, leaning in a little, interested. “You've mentioned your town a couple times. What's it like?”
“Lives up to the name.” Clark smiled. “Small. Bowling alley, gas station, market. Got one street light in the whole town. The farm is about five miles from the center of town, you gotta have a car or a bike to get anywhere.”
“People always hang out by the train tracks or the ol’ Glott farm that’s cavin’ in on itself.”
“Does it rain any less?” Harvey asked, a little sardonic, but still listening all the same.
It was about then that Tommy came back with their ice cream.
Vanilla shake. Two root beer floats. A sundae.
But when he made it to the table, he paused before setting things down, as if he had to… look around and see where they were all sitting for a second.
“Yeah but we gotta worry about tornados way more.” Clark said, and was already reaching for his shake since he was the only one to get one by the looks of things.
“Y’welcome,” Tommy said, and... passed out the rest.
Sundae for Harvey. Floats for him and Bruce. He sat across from Bruce at the table, and didn't interrupt the conversation. Just started to drink silently through his straw.
“...are tornadoes actually like what they say?” Bruce asked. “I read they can pick up a carton of eggs and just set them down miles away, completely intact.”
“Oh yeah, they’re capable of some crazy stuff. After one I saw someone’s record just… stuck in a tree. Like it was a razor blade. Powerlines bent over like they were made of playdough. Then sometimes it’ll set a full can of soda down on someone’s steps without a dent.”
He took a sip from his milkshake, oblivious to anything amiss with Tommy.
It was a nice way to ease into the later part of the night. A nice wind-down from bowling as they asked questions about Kansas and what it was like to live on a farm. In a small town.
When his float was almost drained, Bruce stood, saying, “bathroom, be right back,” and turned to head to the back of the shop.
“Me too,” said Tommy, following along behind him a moment later, wobbling to get out of the table with his long legs.
(They turned a corner and headed into the boy’s bathroom, and once they were there, door shut against anyone listening, Tommy said, “Bruce?”)
“Okay,” Clark said, and thought nothing of it. He slurped the last of his shake through his straw.
But he did overhear their conversation, whether he intended to or not.
Neither did Harvey, who had gotten content to just sit and listen after a while, and was now just quietly watching the street go by, trying to find room in himself to finish up his sundae.
(“Hm?” Bruce said.
“Are you mad at me?”
“What? No. Why would I be mad at you?”
“You’ve been avoiding me, lately,” said Tommy.)
… Clark turned and looked in the direction of the bathroom.
He didn’t look too hard. Not yet. But he was definitely listening.
As far as he knew Bruce wasn’t mad at Tommy at all.
Nothing had changed.
“Don't lie to me,” Tommy said, voice no louder, but a thousand times more sharp than it'd been a moment before.
There was a stutter in Bruce’s heart.
“We tell each other everything,” he said. “I told you everything. And now all you do is hang out with Clark.”
“...we’re just looking stuff up,” Bruce said, voice low and careful. “It's just hanging out. It's different.”
“Really? Because you barely ask to just hang out with me. You were gonna be with him before I got this plan together, you remember?”
There was a footstep. A set of footsteps. Shuffling around.
Clark narrowed his eyes.
He glanced at Harvey, then leaned his head in his hands to try and hide the line of sight to his eyes as they glowed blue and looked harder.
Into the boy’s bathroom.
He'd find them both shuffled into the two-stall bathroom, neither in stalls. Just Bruce taking a step back towards the back wall, and the tail end of Tommy moving forward, teeth clenched in distress.
“It's not like that,” Bruce said, keeping his voice certain, even if he didn't look it. “We came along, we went with your plan, didn't we? You're still my best friend, Tommy, come on--”
“Prove it,” Tommy said.
“What?” said Bruce, furrowing his nose.
“I told you everything Bruce,” Tommy said, and took a step forward once more, even without Bruce moving back. “So if you really care then just--”
And Tommy had pushed Bruce by the shoulders against the wall, and pushed their mouths together.
For a long, silent moment, Bruce just stared, unresponsive at him.
Then, he reeled back with a punch, and slammed Tommy flat on his back.
Before Clark knew it he had crushed his now empty shake glass in his hand.
“Gnnhshit.” He mumbled, blinking hard and looking away from the bathroom.
The woman working behind the counter was already looking up and heading towards their booth to see what happened.
Harvey practically jumped in his seat at the shattering, turning to stare. “Oh, crap! Are you okay?!”
He grabbed a napkin and started trying to help, dabbing up the spilled milkshake and reaching for Clark’s hand to check for injuries.
“Yeah, I’m-- yeah I’m fine.”
He showed him his hand.
No blood. No glass stuck in it.
“What happened over here?” The woman asked, and Clark mumbled out something that was hard to hear. Something like ‘wasn’t paying attention’ and ‘sorry’.
“There must've been a crack in the glass,” Harv reasoned, helping her pick the glass up from the floor and countertop. “It just broke while you were holding it?”
From the back of the shop, two boys exited the bathroom.
“Did something happen?” Bruce asked, coming over.
(Tommy was quiet, behind him.)
Clark started to help too.
“Broke my glass.” Was all he managed, still a little too stunned to say much.
“You kids be careful, I’ll clean this up. Don’t worry about it.” The woman said, trying to shoo them off lest they end up cutting themselves.
The other three figured he was stunned from his glass exploding in his hand, and they shyly backed off a bit as the waitress shooed them.
“Sorry about this-- here,” he said, and shuffled in his pocket.
He pulled out a five.
“Whatever doesn't replace the glass is a tip,” he said, handing it to her.
“Sorry.” Clark said again, and carefully got out of the booth, picking any glass off his lap if there was any.
“Thank you young man.” The woman said, not recognizing who it was handing her the money.
“It's no problem,” he said, but even though she didn't recognize him at that moment, he still was hit by an overwhelming urge to put the cap on and hurry the group outside.
If Clark had ice cream in his lap, it was wiped off with napkins, and Tommy said, at some point, “we should probably head back.”
He and Bruce left their floats unfinished, and were ready to get out the door.
“Yeah. Good idea.” Clark said, and quickly started to walk towards the door.
Things were going to be so awkward back in the dorm.
Should he ask Bruce about it??
Bruce and Tommy said nothing. Nothing at all about what happened.
They followed Tommy and Harvey back to the Academy’s gates and took the rope out of Harv’s bag to throw it up again and get them all over.
Bruce first. The surest climber. Clark. Harvey.
Tommy picked up last. A sure climber, but big enough to catch them if they fell.
They snuck back on campus. Lassoed the end of the bed in their window, and rock climbed their way up the building in reverse order. Tommy lookout up top to keep the knot stable. Bruce, surest climber, getting up when no one would be there to catch him if he fell.
...once they were on campus, all three boys fell into their usual quiet, reserved for avoiding detection after hours, but still-- Harvey said, quietly, “...thanks for doing this. I think I needed to have a day.”
“Course,” Tommy said, stripping to his Pjs and grinning. “Anytime.”
Bruce nodded too.
“It was a good idea.”
...he returned the hat. The shirt.
He tugged on his night clothes too.
As if nothing had happened.
Clark followed them all in, kicking off his shoes and sitting on the edge of his bed as everyone wound down.
“... Yeah. Was fun.” He said, trying to sound convincing.
It was already way past hours and he didn’t want to risk sneaking out in his street clothes, so even he changed into his pajamas in the room too. At least the lights were off so maybe they wouldn’t notice anything weird.
Not that he was… that weird. A little more jacked than a sixteen year old should be, but it was dark, so…
He hurried through it and climbed into bed.
...tonight, they were all a little too distracted to really notice.
Even Bruce was too tired to have one of his quiet nightmares, which surprised even him upon waking.
...and upon waking, Tommy and Bruce would get changed together as usual.
Head off to class after sitting together at breakfast.
No hint of what had occurred between them the night before.
Clark changed in the bathroom again that morning. He was still too self-conscious to do it around everyone else.
He didn't mention anything to anyone. He ate breakfast with the others, went to classes even if it was just him and Tommy in the same one.
Waited until that evening when again it was just him and Bruce walking to the library.
“Hey, so… last night.”
“You and Tommy fight or anything? I thought I heard something when we got ice cream.”
There was an uptick in Bruce’s heart rate, but his confused expression revealed nothing of the sort.
“No? Maybe you heard him spook me when I got out of the stall. Wasn't expecting him.”
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Is what he said instead though rather than keep prying. “Just checking that you guys are okay.”
“...why wouldn't we be?” Bruce asked, his own thoughts loud panic bells that couldn't be heard by anyone else.
No one could know. Even if Bruce didn't want it. That didn't matter as much as Tommy had done it and Bruce was a boy.
And he didn't want to know what their teachers, or the press, or Tommy’s Mom would do if they found out.
“Is something wrong?”
“Tommy seemed kinda distracted I guess. Quiet. Normally he doesn't shut up.” Clark tried to huff a laugh.
“But maybe I'm reading too much into it. I was kinda distracted too.”
“He might be tired,” Bruce said, making a mental note to tell Tommy to talk more. (Maybe it’d even make him happy.) “or dreading break, now that it's officially November.”
Clark had made it to the third month.
“Dreading-- oh right, he doesn't seem to like his mom very much.” Clark said, wanting to get off the topic he brought up.
“Man I can't wait to go home and visit.”
“...it hasn't been a good couple years between them, yeah,” Bruce admitted. “...what are you going to do at home?”
Clark shrugged, “See my friends. See Ma ‘n Pa? Pet my dog?” He chuckled.
“... What do you do on break?”
“....” Bruce needed to think a moment. “Walk. Mostly.”
It sounded so weird Clark needed to make sure he heard right.
“Around the grounds. I walk. Maybe read.”
He would definitely read. But.
Even he got tired of reading.
A massive manor with nothing to do in it but wander.
“Don't have any other family to spend Christmas with?”
He shook his head.
“...the Kanes, I guess. But no. We’re Jewish, anyway.”
“...and Tommy and Harvey’s parents won't let them escape long enough for coming over.”
“It's fine,” he said, already sensing the look on Clark’s face. “It's been like this for years. It's not upsetting or anything. Just dull.”
“Would you wanna come spend it at my place?”
Bruce turned to look at him, startled.
Like he hadn't quite understood for a moment.
“Do you wanna come spend break at my house? In Smallville?” Clark asked again as though Bruce hadn't heard.
“I'd have to call my parents but I don't think they'd say no.”
Before he'd even said he wanted to, Bruce was doing math in his head.
Clark had been open about how his family couldn't really afford GA. Last minute decision to come. If they couldn't afford that with only one kid it might be rough to take in another and
(Okay. Okay. What do I have to do to get out. How much money. What did he have to do.)
“Yeah,” he said, calculating the price of a plane ticket if Alfred tried to say ‘no.’ Taxi fee. Plane ticket. Get out. “Yeah, if they say yes-- they don't have to worry about much from me, I can pay for my own food and room if they need me to.”
Clark laughed a little, “You don't have to pay for room ‘n food. Maybe bus ticket though.” He stopped and looked around for one of the school's pay phones.
“You got a quarter?”
He would need to call and ask. Letters were too slow for this.
Bruce didn't usually carry the money around school, but he dropped his book bag and started rooting around in it for a stray quarter in the bottom, finally coming up victorious.
Clark took it and walked over to one of the phones bolted to the wall, pushing in his money before dialing back home.
“Hey Ma. … I'm good. Um, question actually. Would you mind if a friend comes over for break? His name is Bruce. … Nah he's-- well he's Jewish but he usually spends it alone, so-- yeah. He can buy his own ticket don't worry about it. Can he use the guest room? Cool.”
Then he paused.
“Uhhhhhhh okay. Hold on.”
He held the phone to Bruce. “She wants to talk to you.”
Bruce’s spine was straight as a rail and his shoulders set, the way they always were when he knew exactly what he wanted and was staring down something in his way.
He nodded and took the phone.
“Yes, ma’am?” he said.
“Hello, Bruce? Clark says you're thinkin’ about staying with us over break. I'm fine with that but I need to know, have you run this by your parents?” A kind-sounding woman on the other end asked.
“Oh my god.” Clark groaned, having not gotten to that part yet with her and able to overhear it over the phone. He mouthed a 'sorry’ at Bruce.
“My guardian will be fine with it,” Bruce said, not letting a pang of anything show on his face. “He's been hoping I'd find someone to be with.”
“... Really?” The woman on the other end said. “I know you boys are at school but is there any way I can call your… ‘guardian’ and make sure?”
Clark was rubbing his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “And if you tell him we called Kansas he’ll handle the distance fee.”
He gave her the manor phone number.
“Let me call him real fast and make sure he knows.”
He mouthed to Clark, ‘kidnapping plot,’ and rolled his eyes.
Clark gave him a ‘really??’ look like he didn’t quite believe it, but said nothing.
“Okay, thank you Bruce. Is there anything I should know before you come over? Allergies…?”
Bruce nodded, looking bored as sin thinking about it.
He had to let Alfred know the nice lady on the phone was not trying to get permission to sneakily kidnap him or else he'd never get out of here.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Okay, I’ll make up the guest bed for you. Mind handing the phone back to Clark?”
He did. Handed the phone back.
Listened from the short distance between them.
You didn't need super hearing to do that. And Bruce’s ears were still sharper than most.
Clark took the phone.
“Is this the Bruce you’ve been writing home about?”
“You sure his parents are going to be okay with it?”
“Guardian, Ma. He’s got a guardian. And yeah, probably.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
“Oh. Ohhhh. Okay, honey.”
Clark thunked his head onto the side of the payphone and looked like he would rather die. “So it’s cool? You don’t have to worry about him getting there or anything. He can afford a bus--” He paused and turned to look at Bruce.
“You gonna get a bus ticket and come with me or like…?”
“However I should get there,” he said, letting Clark suffer. “...might have to borrow your hat again for the first part, if it's a bus from here.”
“Yeah he’s gonna get a bus ticket with me.” Clark said. “Anyway we got studyin’ to do so--”
“Okay honey. I’ll call Bruce’s guardian tonight to make sure. But I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks?”
“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”
“.... Love you too, Ma.” Clark said a little quieter before saying goodbye and hanging up.
“You've been writing to her about me?” was the first thing out of Bruce’s mouth.
“Yeah?” Clark said. “I told her I made friends with my roommates. If I didn’t tell her that she’d think I was miserable and alone.”
“... Mentioned we’ve been working on a report, but that’s it really.”
… “Oh, okay,” Bruce said, not really sure what the knot in his chest (which was normal to have) meant right now, and whether it was loosening or tightening at that.
“I'll call Alfred,” he said, starting to dig around for another quarter in his bag. “You can go ahead if you want.”
“Nah man, I wanna see if he really does think this is a kidnapping plot.” Clark grinned, leaning up against the wall.
“Ugh,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes again and shoving in the quarter. “I'm doing it so he doesn't.”
He dialed a number. Waited.
“Hello. Alfred Pennyworth. You've reached the Wayne Estate.”
“Hi Alfred,” Bruce said. “I'm going to Kansas for winter break.”
“Pennyworth.” Clark whispered in disbelief.
What. A. Name.
Bruce turned back to look at him. Whispered: “I could've been a millionaire named ‘Pennyworth.’”
“Oh? I see it's all already been decided then, has it Master Bruce?”
Clark was grinning from ear to ear, like this was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard.
Holy crap was he glad he stuck around for this conversation.
That one, Bruce kicked him for.
“...I'm just going to stay with my roommate for a bit. Okay?”
“I see. And which roommate moved to Kansas, again?” Alfred sounded dry.
“...the new one’s from there,” Bruce said. “Look, his mom’s going to call tonight and make sure it's alright. I've still got plenty of allowance. I'll just pack weekend clothes and head out from school.”
“...I see. Are you sure you wouldn't like to--”
The other side of the phone was quiet for a while. Bruce just stared down at the buttons.
“Of course,” Pennyworth finally said. “...but please. Try to keep me more upbraided on things, wouldn't you?”
“It's not hard to find o--”
“I’d just like to not have to go searching all the time is all,” Alfred interrupted. And Bruce went silent again. “...I'm glad you've found someone to spend break with. I'll let his mother know it's fine.”
“...thanks, Alfred,” Bruce said.
And he hung up without saying goodbye.
Clark didn’t move from the kick, but his amusement died a little when things got… not exactly antagonizing between the two, but not fully great either.
“... I’m sure my mom will give him our address and everything.” Clark said when Bruce was finished, pushing himself from the wall so they could start towards the library again.
Bruce nodded. Headed off still feeling good about getting out, but…
Alfred made it hard sometimes.
“Yeah. He'll ask. What are we looking for tonight?”
“Left off with the Belinsky murders.”
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✶ 𝐇𝐗𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
Long story short, I have been thinking about this for wayyyyy too long now and wanted to get some ~thoughts~ & analysis written down! This post is going to be...fairly long, lol. Apologies in advance :D
Also, if you can’t see the last gif (the one for ‘holy’), click here. Tumblr keeps fucking up the image when i try to upload it :////
This post is probably going to be about 2/3 yorknew & phantom troupe/kurapika focused, 1/3 chimera ants, maybe with some references to other arcs (including manga-only arcs) mixed in. so, ofc, tons of spoilers ahead! also, i realize that my blog theme is hard to read (and i’m p sure clicking ‘keep reading’ sends you to the og post itself), so i’m linking the post w/ full text copy/pasted in on my art backup side blog (which has a more legible font) here.
I’m sure absolutely nobody is surprised with me starting here - there is just. SO. MUCH. DEATH. in hxh. & right from the start, one thing I noticed that togashi really emphasized was the #4 and its connection to death. in japanese, chinese, and im p sure some other asian cultures the number 4 is pronounced like the word for death so it’s associated with death in general, and boy oh boy does the ‘deadly number 4′ thing show up E V E R Y W H E R E. we get to the hunter exam, and hisoka is applicant #44. kurapika is #404. i didn’t notice it at first, but this was so intentional holy shit. togashi is NOT SUBTLE.
So pika & hisoka are, right off the bat, associated with death. okay. and then there are even more clues to drive the point home: hisoka is member #4 in the phantom troupe, kurapika’s birthday is april 4th (aka 4/4). 100% not a coincidence (!!). with hisoka, it’s pretty obvious why togashi’s throwing all this death 444444 stuff around - dude is a psycho murder pedo clown, literally gets off on killing people (and there’s also the fact that judas sits 4th from the left in the last supper painting, and he’s sort of the judas equivalent for the phantom troupe). with kurapika, though, it’s a bit more subtle and woven deeper into his characterization, which i LOVE. togashi puts the mans in blue & gold & white (traditionally ‘pure’ or ‘heavenly’ colors), makes him so fucking kind & so good-hearted.....when he’s not relentlessly pursuing his revenge, ofc. more on this in the next section, but pika = death. togashi has made that v v v clear.
Backtracking a bit to hisoka, though, I also just wanted to point out the 4 is death symbolism in the fortunes too (GOD i love the fortunes): in one translation, he’s the false fourth moon, and in the og japanese (i think), he’s the false hare (4th in the lunar zodiac or w/e it’s called. i don’t know the japanese cultural influences here, but in the chinese legend that established the zodiac animals, they race across the heavenly river & the top 12 animals got zodiac slots. the hare finished 4th, so it’s #4 in the cycle).
And just as a final note, Tserriednich is the fourth prince of the kakin empire, and also another dude who has a hard-on for murder & other gory shit. again: togashi is not subtle with this, lmfao
✶ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘, 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘
As probably everyone who’s gotten to yorknew knows, togashi is so 0 fucks given when he wants to be. I mean there’s the whole thing where he just. took New York and decided, Yorknew. LMFAO, but also, he made the main antag of that arc be named chrollo lucilfer, sit around in a ruined church, have a reversed cross coat, pale & dark-haired/dark-eyed, generally dressed in dark colors, very terrible murder guy. liiiike......chrollo x devil symbolism game is 1000/10 at this point lmaooo
And i know absolutely nothing about christianity in general, but pt/kurapika & yorknew arc is just so full of christian imagery/symbolism! one thing that i L O O O O O O V E though is how togashi really blurs the traditional christian-coded good/evil, holy/damned boundaries.
Back to kurapika: he wears gold and blue, his coloring is very stereotypically ‘angelic’, he’s precious and good and kind. his chains are all about ~judgment~ and ~healing~ - some of the chains are also in literal cross shapes, aren’t they? And the chain dagger in his own heart...the imagery is very startlingly similar to the immaculate heart of mary, where the swords stabbing thru the heart apparently represent seven sorrows. IDK much about this stuff other than the visual similarities; literally had to google ‘daggers through heart christianity?’ to even get the name of that thing LOL. anyway, at first, it seems like togashi establishes him as the ‘angel’, the ‘good’, the ‘holy’ in the angel/devil, good/evil, holy/damned dichotomy between him and chrollo.
But that’s not the end of the story. his entire storyline is driven by a huuuuuuuge giant desire for vengeance, first of all, and then there’s the scarlet eyes, which canonically are seen as demonic/cursed/what have you (according to one of the movies or smth? where they show pika as a 10 y/o?), and then we also have red eyes in modern culture being associated w pretty much the same thing (vampires, anyone?). the fight scene with uvo has everything in b&w besides the blood on his face & his red eyes & the moon (<<< more fortune foreshadowing & symbolism, i love to see it), and there are tonssss of scenes where he has to suppress his rage. so all of that is obviously not very angelic of him i would say LOL. in fact, what i find super interesting is that the scarlet/red eyes (which are ‘demonic’) is actually the driving factor behind his super powerful nen abilities; this ties in so well with the fortunes & death associations imo! the fortunes call him the ‘death-bringer’ in one translation, or ‘half-angel, half-death’, so that’s one side of pika = red eyes = death, but there’s also the fact that emperor time is literally draining his life force. so pika = death for both himself and others namely the pt, question mark?
Now for chrollo: togashi’s devil symbolism is EXTREMELY overt with him, but i love the subtler jesus references too. the church thing, obviously, and the st. peters cross which is cuz st peter respected jesus too much & didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as him (or something like that, i am the most atheist person in the world & hxh is literally my entire christian education pls) but is also used as an anti-christianity symbol these days. bandit’s secret looks like a bible, lbr, and mans has a cross tattoo.
Other things beyond visuals - 12 spiders, 12 apostles; hisoka’s betrayal, where member #4 can be thought to correspond to judas sitting 4th from left at last supper. and this miiiiight be a bit of a stretch, but i think the meteor city being the place of origin may also play into the blurred line between angel/devil and holy/damned here; meteors are defined as space rocks that are in earth’s atmosphere, becoming incandescent in the process. meteorites are for the kinds that actually reach the ground. and idk, lucifer was cast out of heaven / sky too right? so i think there might be some subtle fallen angel imagery/symbolism playing into the pt as well
✶ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒)
Last section yay! i don’t have as much to say about this, besides when i was making chimera ant arc edits & realized that there might have been some subtle gon/meruem parallels???
So obviously, everyone knows that line killua says to gon - “you are light” - and then i was just remembering that meruem’s name means.... “light that illuminates all” (!!!!). maybe it’s a coincidence, but knowing togashi, i’m leaning towards nahhhh. there HAS TO be some kinda meaning there (!!).
Going back to the events of the chimera ant arc....ooh boy. let’s see: gon is optimistic & hopeful even in the face of kite potentially being dead, killua says he’s light, they find kite & dude is fucked up, gon is pissed. gets all angry & ~dark~, especially during the palace invasion when he’s staring pitou down as she fixes up komugi. then the actual fight against pitou: more darkness, more anger, but through it all there’s still light, namely his jajanken being very orange & fiery lookin.....and that final sequence, where he puts all his possible nen he’d ever have into his ~final form~ or wahtever & turns into a male version of true form!bisky but dressed in a crop top & short-shorts (i am SCARRED, btw. s c a r r e d !). there’s just huuuge flashes of light as that’s going on, and it reminded me of supernovas or dying stars when i was thinking about it, where the star is like, collapsing under its own weight? & burning thru its own fuel, until there’s nothing left except a dwarf or black hole or what have you. one final, extremely deadly burst of light & energy before death.
On the meruem side of things: born into a dark cave, exhibits a traditionally evil/cruel/wicked/whatever personality/traits so that has ppl associating him with darkness. then he gets to know komugi, starts to appreciate other aspects of humanity, seems like he could have actually turned into a decent person who doesn’t want to eat everyone - so that’s a ‘path to light’, maybe? - and then the extermination team yeets themselves into the palace, netero takes him out to bumfuck nowhere, they fight. netero’s fighting is just ALL light, from his giant ass golden 100-type guanyin bodhisattva to the poor man’s rose. again, there’s the sense of finality to it all, in a similar vein to dying stars: netero comes in determined to kill meruem no matter what, and we all know netero doesn’t flake. then we see netero get destroyed after the zero hand, and he triggers the rose, and everything is burning & on fire before the flames are put out and all turns dark again.
But wait!!! pouf & youpi revive meruem and all he does is play gungi with komugi, even with the poison of the rose. he eventually dies, and the gungi pieces in that final shot of them together (i am BAWLING just thinking about it holy shit) has one that’s all white, one that’s a black ring and white inside. i assume all white is for komugi, who has never done ANYTHING wrong in her LIFE, so i like to think that the 2nd one is for meruem - born “into darkness”, literally & figuratively, but he turns something like ‘good’ by the end. it’s interesting how togashi has sort of gone for a bit of a subversion here: the hero going from light to darkness, and the main antag from darkness to light.
AahhhhHHHHHhhh so if you read all the way down here through my LONG rambles, tysm! i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what other people think about all this, and i’ve FOR SURE missed tons and tons of stuff - chimera ants is just. SO MUCH. and i don’t know it as well as yorknew eeek.
I’m not sure if i’m really ~knowledgeable~ in any other areas relating to hxh, so this might be the only one of these that i do, but i definitely think about some of this - esp all the religious symbolism & #4 stuff - a ton! so in the meantime, if it’s of any interest, i’m just going to shamelessly plug my hxh x religious beliefs/superstitions edit series :D lots of love to all!!!
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The memories of kayce came back to me in flashes as John slowly regained consciousness. He was passed out and I'd put pressure on his wounds. My head is pounding as I try to view my wounds and how bad they are. My eyes fall heavy, remembering times of when we felt like we were a normal family with no problems.
2 weeks ago
The Bunkhouse was barring with music as Kayce and I were settling Bree and Tate for bed. The pair have been getting better about their nightmares. Monica has been watching over them and John who she jokes that he's retired because he always spends time with them. Kayce has been working as livestock commissioner in the office and driving his truck all over tarnation. I've been working the ranch with Rip, he's been teaching me the ropes and I love every moment of it. My parents occasionally come over to hang out with us and tonight was that night. Kayce and I step out on the porch to see John chilling. I took my hat off, bowing my head lightly as Kayce leans against the stone wall chuckling at the sound of loud music through the ranch.
"Mr. Dutton" John smiles at me, he's noticing that I've been calling him that more. "You thinkin of joinin them?" He points a index finger at my tapping boot on the wood. I hadn't noticed and I blush. It had been years since I'd danced or parted or got a drink because of Bree.
Kayce comes round wrapping his muscular arms round my shoulders and I lean back into his calming embrace. He starts to say no but I put a finger to his lips rebutting with puppy dog eyes. "Kayce please. This is our one moment with no kids." He bends his head down and looks to his dad for approval which is cute.
"Ya be okay with that, dad?" John smiles and I giggled when Kayce literally swept me off my feet bridal style. He put my hat on my head laughing as he carried me to the Bunkhouse. He kicked open the door setting me on my feet grinning like a child. The cowboys of the Bunkhouse watch us chuckling and start dancing around with barrel racer girls. Kayce takes a bow removing his hat for a second then to hold out his freehand. I giggled at his cuteness of asking me to dance.
"May I have this dance, y/n Dutton?"
I placed my hands in his and we started dancing around silly. Kayce and I both grinned at one another in a way I thought I'd never see again. The Bunkhouse door opens and I turned my attention to see beth wearing a white cowgirl hat, black tank top, blue jeans and black boots. A bottle of alchohol in her hands with a smirk playing on her lips with her hips swaying to the music. "Y/n come to join the party" I smirked looping my arm through hers and winking to kayce who takes a shot of whiskey.
A couple hours later I didn't know what time it was but I couldn't care. Kayce wasn't as drunk as me but he was a bit tipsy and he was laughing as me and beth danced the night away. "What the hell is going on here!" Everyone kinda froze at the sound of Rip's voice. Beth kept swaying her hips dancing and she whispered in my ear as I stood a little stiff. "He won't hurt ya y/n."
I wasn't typically afraid of him but the tone of his voice was different in this moment. He strolled through the crowd of boys glancing to me with a smirk, his gaze finally stopping on Beth. "I should've known it was you....you did a pretty good job considering y/n and kayce are here." He pulls her in for a kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck. "By know you sure should'a" Kayce pulls me to him by the belt of my jeans grinning handing me a shot of whiskey. We clinked the red solo cups together before tipping them back and once we're finished we started howling at the moon.
The next morning.
My head was pounding as I got up to puke in the toilet. I wipe my mouth crawling back under the covers to feel kayce shift. He groans and moans until I rest my head on his bare chest. Before you ask no we didn't do it. We just had too many drinks - bad idea. Kayce combs a lazy hand through my messy hair as I listen to his heartbeat. "How's your head honey?" His raspy morning voice is something I could get used to lisening to all the time.
"Like someone is banging a rock against my head, how about you?" I tilted my head up looking to see him looking down to me. He groans shifting so he's sitting up a bit with me still laying ontop. "This was your idea last night!" He gave me an angry glare but I started laughing and it made my headache worse but I didn't care. The Kayce Dutton I was with last night was a blast - I hadn't seen that Kayce since the day before we found out I pregnant with Bree. "Well maybe I wanted a day off with ya cowboy - ah Kayce no!"
A knock on his bedroom door makes us break from our trance. His hands stopped tugging at my shirt and tickling me. "Kayce - Y/n!" It was his dad's voice. I flicked my gaze from the door to his sin hollering out. "Yeah, sir!" The door opened slightly and Kayce sat up. "I need you both outside. I've got a suprise for the two of ya." He closes the door and I sighed having Kayce get up and throw on a grey tea shirt and blue jeans. I threw my head back on the pillow twirling my hair as a flirt, he looked my way walking over with his hat.
"We have to go see what he wants. Can't just lay around in bed all day darlin". I scooted over to him under the covers whining like Bree and Tate. "Kayce..." I took hold of his shirt trying to pull him down ontop of me. He smirked tossing his hat at the foot of the bed "Y/n - I'm serious..and don't think for one second that this isn't at all tempting." He kisses me quickly before put one arm under my legs and the other under my back. I wrap my arms around his neck feeling the cold air.
I'm only wearing my tea shirt from last night and some old shorts. "You're mean, Kayce Dutton!" He playfully rolled his eyes sitting me down on the bed, to hand me my Jean's. Slipping them on I shook my head. Putting my hat on my head once I finish my braid going down my back. "Don't lie, you love me." He replied as we saw John outside with his helicopter ready to go. Kayce and I shared a confused glance before climbing in with his father who flies us to the open feilds.
"This is the center of our land. And I see no better place for you two to settle down." I remove my hat feeling honored at the gesture. When Kayce left me for Monica. John and I created a bond of some sort. "Mr. Dutton, thank you...that means a lot." He smiled a small one eyeing his young son.
Kayce looks down at me brightly as the wind blows my hair in the warm sun. "Thanks dad. I'll not make a mistake with her, not again." I slowly walk in the fields feeling the pair watching me with smiles.
Squinting my eyes at the brightness of the sun I felt myself being lightheaded as I drop my arms holding myself up. John lays bleeding beside me. A car's tires stopped on the paved road and a car door slammed. Footsteps approach quickly when I start to black out. "John. Y/n. No. No, don't you die on me!" Rip's panicked voice made the ear ringing increase.
"Y/n. Hey, hey stay with me!" His hands cup my face in his, seeing blood coming from my wounds. "R-Rip..." I coughed out closing my eyes hearing him hollering to John and me. "Don't you die on me now. You hear me!"
Let me get back to Kayce.
Please, let me see him.
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realistic peter parker headcanons :)
a/n: listen y'all i'm 18, i know damn well peter isn't the innocent cutesy blush boy y'all write him out to be so here's my take on your friendly, pasty ass, cute but annoying neighbourhood hero even though nobody asked for it lol
warnings: none! jus fluff + a dash of peter x reader teehee
he's a genZ from queens new york.....that LITERALLY tells you all u gotta know about him
he's sweet and well mannered, shy but loyal...allem cute introvert things
after the whole italy trip thing, the spidey gang got CLOSE close and he started to show more of himself
he's WILD and funny as fuckkkkk when he's comfortable. the kid's wid it ALL! get him lit he dares you
down for 2am adventures when he's not away wit the avengers
racing thru target in the shopping carts
loves playing hide and seek in walmart @ 2am when y'all leave your house to get snacks for the sleepover
peter 🤝 dennys
he also 100% listens to new york drill
went to a lil tjay concert and had the time of his life
tried to convince nick fury he needed to open an investigation on who killed pop smoke
flash is super shook that peter knows who JCritch is
his phone case is an otterbox wit a giant spiderman sticker on it
wears chains and rings. argue with me and i'll block u
peters well aware of the fact he's white and middle class but isn't a douche-bag about it ever
because of this, peter parker is a proud ally. heavily leans towards the liberal side and likes to verbally beat the shit outta people who have anything to say about it
calmly calls Flash out on his ignorance when MJ can't be bothered to school him
"bro you sound stupid as fuck right now"
"mr. stark is like, a neutral good....he just fucks wit red alot"
"oop, i see a trump hat....gimme a second-"
grew up around AAVE and uses slang more often than you'd think
says "aight..." at least 90 times a day [it's his personal favourite, especially when he's pissed off]
ned: *gasps!* you're lying-
peter: *staring directly into ned's soul* i'm bein' so deadass...
calls random things "mid" allll the timeeeee
yeah he's a good student and a literal genius but he doesn't necessarily like school
"ain't nobody doing that review shit tonight, liz. i'm sure as hell not touchin' it"
don't tell anybody but he eats ALL the time during labs. the sticky hairs on his fingers ensure the crumbs never touch the ground so he always manages to get away with it
peter got aunt may on tiktok and now they send eachother videos and practice dances
peter: *looking out the jets windows* i like di view...
aunt may: you do!? 😃
aunt may: you're my best view ☺️
happy: *reclined in the seat next to him* .....meh
OH! omg, peter loves to flirt, he's got a baby face tho so no one takes him seriously
tries to convince everyone he's a dom when really he's a switch....
peter: *squinting* yo how the fuck did liz get 100% dominant and mine is only 82%
MJ: it's lack of a father figure and childhood trauma that's holding us back....
get flirty with him and he'll immediately turn it into banter if he fucks witchu, that's his love language.....
[from: penis parker 🧑🏻🔬] oh, so you DON'T want me to come over, do your homework and possibly fuck as friends? looooool say less 🤫
[to: penis parker 🧑🏻🔬] can u stfu? the doors unlocked, pull up when ur done being annoying 😒
super clingy. he likes to be held, especially from behind. it makes him feel safe
most of the time he's the little spoon, especially when he has nightmares....your breathing helps ground him
eats all types of food but has a sweet spot for brazillian or caribbean dishes
we know he speaks spanish but he's also well versed in portuguese, arabic and a little mandarin
loves loves LOVES bacon egg and cheese sandwiches it's insane
one time you got up early to make a few for the gang cuz you were feeling sappy and he almost cried when you handed it to him
"bro look at the cheese 🥺 and tHE HOT SAU-" *leans over* "what's your ring size again? i'm tryna see sumn....."
omg when he's confused he does the thing....you know that ???? look on his face?
"ayo, u forreal?" *followed by the squinty - head tilt - thingy*
calls girls: shordy or shordies looooooool
has an unhealthy obsession with nike
anytime y'all go thrifting he buys all the vintage nike stuff, especially the windbreakers
"yES i wear black air forces with my suit sometimes, it asserts dominance and intimidates the goofies"
peter daps/hugs every single friend he bumps into. it may be brief but thats one of the main things that puts respect on his name
babysits the kids from his apartment floor when he's not busy and wants company. he's great with kids 🥺
i know y'all finna hate the truth but them kids be drinking, and peter holds his liquor WELL
loves hennessy. like he LOVESSSSS hennessy
"pour up for the dead homies"
[to: sgt bucky] this henny got me thinkin bout u boo 😘 i miss us
[from: sgt bucky] why do you text me?....
king of parkour (he thinks he's so cool)
loses his metro pass....all the time
prolly smokes if were being candid here [he loves russian cream backwoods, the 'russian' reminds him of nat which is why he texts her almost everytime he's fried]
[to: aunt nat🔪🩸] i smoked u :)
[from: aunt nat] You what? Again??
[to: aunt nat🔪🩸] *insert pic of peter cheesing with a backwoods wrapper between his teeth* 😋
[from: aunt nat] I'm mad I laughed......Make good choices Parker 🤨
"so....no ones got a lighter? that's tuff"
chides "new opp pack in the air, dats gas or what" to himself WITH ALLLLLL the pride a teenage boy could ever have after he fucks up a bad guy
loses it over COD and god forbid MJ sweeps him in 2K more than once.....he goes into hiding after the third loss
carries a lil plastic comb with him at all times cuz his hair is a mess
in fact, anytime peter accompanies you to the beauty supply store he buys five at a time, the kid keeps losing them
you *standing in line*: ion get it, why don't you just make an industrial comb outta vibranium or something?
peter *quietly;blushing*: it gives me an excuse to come here and smell everything....i love cantu....
almost always falls asleep when you braid his hair
more than likely has a giant shoe collection after tony adopts him
loves air jordan ones with everything in him
"ned, man, look at these they're beautiful"
his simple pleasure is watching the godfather when he's cooped up in his bed doing homework
definitely sleeps with his window open cuz he loves noise
loses his airpods often, so pepper orders a bunch and puts a new box in "Peters special stuff drawer" every so often....the one in tonys office
his finsta and private snap story are entertaining as fuck
but also dangerous cuz he posts thirst traps at least once a day and it makes it hard to keep yourself from calling him over on the nights you're home alone
you *replying to his snap*: you bout fine asl. come ova here and lick me. i need dat 👀🙈
peter *already packing a bag*: woooowwww y/n wtfff? am i just a piece of meat to you? 😒🙄
the MEMES in his camera roll? omds 😭
"i be feelin like a deep fried twitter screenshot sometimes, idk if that's healthy tho"
peter has a pinterest account
participates in all his favourite senior spirit days, especially the superhero ones. much to the gangs surprise he's showed up as everything BUT spiderman
"i got y'all stressin tryna see if i'll pull up dressed as spiderman, huh? 😭"
he's such an asshole oh my god i love him
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Bo side-eyed you as he grumbled underneath his breath. Out of your peripheral you saw him adjust on the couch and turn the volume up on his wrestling match. The booming voice of the sports announcer drowned out any further comments of his displeasure and you went back to making dinner for the boys.
You had told Vincent a few days ago that him and his brothers should spend more time together and designated Friday as family dinner night. You had yet to tell Bo that Lester was coming and you simply invited Lester over when you saw him yesterday. By the way Bo was acting this was not gearing up to be a pleasant night. He cast one more nasty look in your direction and you decided that enough was enough.
“What is it, Bo?” Maybe asking him head-on was stirring the pot a little but you were past the point of caring. You had spent the better part of the day preparing everything for a nice evening and you weren’t going to let his attitude ruin it. The family had already kidnapped you and prevented you from leaving. At least Lester and Vincent were nice about it, Bo took every opportunity to antagonize you and make your life harder.
Scowling like you had insulted him, Bo spat, “Excuse me, but it’s Friday night and seein’ as I’m the only one in this goddamn house that’s got a job I’d like to spend it watchin’ my shows and havin’ a beer! Which I can’t do with the goddamn ruckus yer causin’ in there!” His southern accent poking through the angrier he got, he ended his tirade and turned the volume up once more.
Deciding that you were going to salvage this night if it killed you, you furrowed your brow and braced yourself to yell back at him. “I’m sorry if my cooking is too loud for you! I could just let you fend for yourself y’know! I’m surprised you could hear me over how loud the TV is. What is it at, 60?”
Turning back to the steaks you were cooking you mumbled, “Goddamn grumpy son of a bitch…” As you turned to put the pie in the oven you bumped right into the towering form of Bo Sinclair. You weren’t given much time to wonder how he had gotten all the way over here before he shoved his face right up close to yours. His hat was off and he had errant curls framing his face.
Breathing heavy he simmered, “What did you just say to me?” His voice was at a regular level and that in and of itself was almost as terrifying as if he were screaming.
But apparently it was not enough to deter you.
Not knowing where the suddence confidence came from you pushed your face closer to his and said, “Which part? When I called you helpless or when I called you a son of a bitch?” His cheeks were flushed from rage — or maybe alcohol — and your eyes went wide as you realized that you had really put your foot in your mouth.
Just then Vincent came up from the basement and stopped in the kitchen causing the two of you to look over at him. He tilted his head as if to ask: “What’s going on?” And when you looked back at Bo he simply scoffed and rolled his eyes. Ripping open the door to the fridge he snatched a beer before stalking off to the living room once more.
Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding you looked over at Vincent who was now appraising the various dishes you made.
“Do they pass inspection?” His eye darted up to your face and you could see he was smiling as he nodded.
“Good, let’s just hope your brothers like it too.” Giving you a sympathetic look, as best he could with that mask of his, he grabbed the plates to start setting the table. The two of you worked in silence until you heard the familiar sound of Lesters truck pulling into the driveway. The two of you heard Bo shift in the living room and you gave Vincent a look that said: “Let the shit-show begin.”
“What in the fuck is he doin’ here at 7:00 in the goddamn evenin’?” You and Vincent snapped your heads to the doorway to see Bo glowering at the two of you.
Deciding to make it seem like you had invited Lester on a whim you replied, albeit shakily, “I saw him earlier and I thought he might like to have dinner with us.”
It seemed like fate was working against you because Lester chose that time to slam open the door and yell down the hallway, “Hey guys!”
Rounding the corner into the kitchen he started to say, “Hey Y/N, thanks fer inviting me yesterday, I sure do ‘preciate it. I been thinkin’ ‘bout whatcha said and I think you’re right. We should start to eat dinner as a family more-“ He looked up into the kitchen and was met with Bo glaring at him beneath the brim of his trucker hat.
Turning to you, Bo cocked an eyebrow and you could only wish that they had actually killed you when you first stumbled into Ambrose.
“Saw him earlier?” He drawled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Thought he might want some dinner?” Realizing you had been caught red handed you looked to Vincent and Lester for some help. Vincent only shrugged and Lester seemed to have finally clammed up.
Bo’s voice increasing in volume made you whip your head over to him again. With you looking like a deer in headlights he continued, “Well, it seems like we have a fuckin’ contradiction on our hands here.”
Stepping into your personal space Bo sneered, “It’s bad enough that Vincent and Lester want you alive but don’t go thinkin’ yer apart of the family.”
Cursing yourself for cowering under his imposing form you mutter, “I’m sorry Bo, but you don’t have to be so ornery all the time.” His eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to respond before Vincent put his hand on his brother's chest and pushed him out of your face.
Lester tried concealing his laughter as he giggled, “ornery” under his breath. Bo’s eyes narrowed and his jaw grew tense as he looked between his brothers and you. Exhaling harshly he ripped Vincent’s arm off of him and dragged one of the chairs out from the table.
Plopping down onto it he snapped, “Well as long as we’re all here we might as well eat some of this shit.”
Vincent glared at him as he brought the bowl of mashed potatoes to the table and Lester pulled out his own chair looking meekly at his lap. It hurt you to see the brothers fighting all the time and you couldn’t help but feel like your attempt at remedying it had gone down the drain before the night even really started.
The table was tense as everyone served themselves. You felt like one wrong move would cause Bo to start hurling insults at everyone. Lester helped himself to the mashed potatoes, grabbing a large spoonful of it. The precarious pile started to tip and before you could warn him he had the mush all down his shirt and lap.
You and Vincent looked at each other as Lester froze in shock. You were all waiting for Bo’s anger to explode but instead of biting insults and yelling all that came out of his mouth was a short chuckle. Glancing wide-eyed at Lester you tried to brace yourself for the inevitable fight that was sure to break out. Pushing your chair back from the table you scrambled to get more napkins in order to clean up the mess. As you turned back to the table Bo burst out in boisterous laughter. He threw his head back and banged on the table. You hesitantly turned to the other brothers for reassurance but they looked just as lost as you.
“You- You should have seen your face! Lester-!” He cut himself off with another round of raucous laughter.
“Lester- He- He looked so fuckin’ surprised! Like a deer in fuckin’ headlights!” By this point Bo was on the verge of tears and as his hooting and hollering continued Lester started to relax and laugh along as well. You looked over to see Vincent’s shoulders shaking as he laughed in his own silent way. Watching the brothers cut loose like this, you started to laugh as well. It began as chuckling until slowly all of you descended into hysterics, until the sounds of your giggles filled the entire room.
As the laughter died down, all of you were left smiling at each other and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the boys. They were deprived of this closeness and happiness for their entire lives. The more you thought about it the more you realized you had never seen any of them laugh that hard before. Feeling as though the evening had been revived, you all started to dig in after Lester cleaned up his mess.
The night wore on and the plates were swapped out for beer — for Bo, coffee, and tea. You sat around and watched as the brothers told what few happy memories they had from their childhood and once again you were hit with an overwhelming feeling of loss. In some sort of twisted way, they had become a sort of family to you and you felt as though you should try and contribute in a way that helps them. You may not be able to change their childhood, but now you were determined to give them as many happy moments as you could moving forward in order to make up for it.
Slowly Vincent rose from the table, gesturing that he had work to do in the basement. Before he turned to leave he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it. You were a bit taken aback, as Vincent was generally more reserved. You smiled back at him to show your appreciation. Your attention was drawn to Lester as he slid his chair back from the table, smiling from ear to ear.
“I best be gettin’ home ‘fore it gets too dark to drive. This sure was great, Y/N. Thanks fer havin’ me, I had a ball.” His smile faltered and he looked as if he wanted to say more.
“Sure thing, Lester. Is there anything I can get you before you leave?” You furrowed your brow, wanting to know what was bothering him but feeling like it wasn’t your place to ask.
Wringing his hat in his hands his eyes flit between the ground and yours as he spoke once more, “Yeah, I was wonderin’ — if it’s not too much trouble — if’n I could come back fer supper again next week? O- Only if yer havin’ it.” He clenched his jaw as he looked at you wide-eyed, nervously awaiting your response. Your heart damn near broke for this man, looking so unsure. You wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let him go.
Holding your arms out you gestured for Lester to come hug you. He hesitated at first but after you said, “C’mere” he almost knocked the breath out of your lungs from how hard he hugged you.
While he was hugging you, you murmured, “Of course, Lester. You’re always welcome here. Even if you just want to drop by to chat.” Your eyes flitted over to Bo, expecting him to be upset that you had given Lester permission to come up to the house anytime he wanted. Instead, you saw him tracing the label of his beer bottle with an odd sort of half-smile on his face. He almost looked… sad. Or nostalgic. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, you squeezed Lester once more before drawing back and holding him at arm's length. Looking him in the eyes, you cocked your eyebrow and he nodded back at you, a large smile splitting his face.
Stealing a cookie on the way out, he waved goodbye to you and Bo before yelling a goodnight down the stairs to Vincent. You were standing at the sink with your back to the rest of the kitchen when you heard Bo push his chair back. Looking over your shoulder you saw Bo leaning against the wall behind you with his arms crossed. Wondering why he was just standing there looking at you, you decided to ask him.
“What’s up, Bo? You gonna head to bed?” Turning back to the sink you waited for his response. You thought maybe he’d yell at you for inviting Lester without his say in it, or if he was in a good mood maybe even help with the dishes.
What you didn’t expect was to hear him say, “Nah, I’m gonna thank you.” Your head snapped around so fast your neck almost hurt. You couldn’t believe his words.
Chuckling at your slack-jawed stare he continued, “I know me ‘n Lester ain’t very close. I just don’t know how to handle ‘im sometimes. I sorta feel bad ‘bout it, seein’ as Vincent ‘n me are ‘bout as close as I can get.” Looking down at the floor he scuffed the toe of his work boot across the linoleum. He looked almost sheepish and if you were shocked before you were downright flabbergasted now. You had seen Bo show a lot of emotions — mainly anger and sometimes, when he was drunk enough, sadness. You had seen him flirt like hell and be sarcastic. But you had never seen him be as vulnerable as he was right now. You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off before you could get a word in.
“But tonight… Tonight was real nice, even though you went behind my back to do it, sweetheart.” You knew that it must have meant a lot to him for Bo to even consider thanking you. Even if he was poking fun at you, you knew that this was about as open as he could get.
“Bo…” You hushed out, “You don’t need to thank me, I’m happy to do this for all of you. Even if I am being held here against my will, I guess I should pitch in somehow. Besides, I only feel bad that you guys aren’t as close as you could be.” Looking back at the dishes you expected the conversation to be over. For Bo to make some sort of snarky response or grunt in your direction before going on his way.
But it seemed like he just wanted to surprise you today because his hand fell on your shoulder and as he turned you around he said, “So Lester got a hug and I don’t get nothin’? That don’t seem mighty fair to me, seein’ as I’m the one who paid fer the groceries.” Your jaw fell open as you tried to comprehend what he just said. You were half tempted to ask what he had done with the real Bo because this was an obvious imposter.
Managing to stutter out a, “What” you slowly got your wits together.
“Am I not as good as Lester? Is that it? You like ‘im better than me?” Bo started to look more defensive and you gaped up at him.
“Bo, are you… Are you jealous?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Bo Sinclair, macho-man extraordinaire was jealous because you had given his brother a hug and not him. You couldn’t help but smile as Bo furrowed his brow and turned his head.
Scoffing, he stepped back from you and hissed, “No. Me? Jealous of that sorry son-uva-bitch that smells like rotting shit? No fucking way, forget I said anything.” He turned and started making his way out of the kitchen.
Chasing after him you laughed and yelled, “Bo! I’ll give you a hug if you want. All you had to do was ask!” You caught him by his sleeve in order to stop him. He turned back to you, still frowning and you moved forward and wrapped your arms around his torso. You felt him tense and his arms hovered awkwardly away from your body before he peeled you off of him. Grumbling to himself he stomped up the stairs and you were left shocked in the hallway listening to the echo of his door slamming.
Trudging back into the kitchen feeling slightly put out, you finished up the dishes before returning to your own room. As much as you wouldn’t like to admit it, it had taken you a while to fall asleep. You couldn’t help but remember how vulnerable Bo had looked earlier and how upset he was when you had finally hugged him.
Unless Vincent was still awake from working all night, you generally woke up before Bo. He liked to sleep in and often went down to the garage at 10 am. While getting out of bed you decided that a cup of coffee would be a good way to start the day. Walking into the kitchen you were surprised to see Bo already sitting at the table staring into a cup of black coffee. You flushed when you realized you were still in your pajamas and probably looked like a mess. Turning to the coffee-maker you cursed yourself for thinking that because you really had no business liking Bo like that. He was your captor for pete's-sake! But then again, Bo had no business looking that handsome.
Once you had your mug in hand you steeled yourself to meet his gaze and leaned your back against the counter. Looking closer at the man at the table you realized that his hair was ruffled and he had dark bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.
“Good morning.” You figured if you asked what was wrong he wouldn’t say anything. He’d probably just yell at you, so you might as well act like there wasn’t anything weird going on.
He just grunted a reply and kept looking into his coffee mug. He didn’t look you in the eyes as he heaved a sigh and pulled himself out of his chair. Pouring his mug out then setting it down in the sink, he turned back to the table. Pulling his hat on he pushed in his chair before ambling down the hallway, his eyes trained on the ground the whole time. You stepped out after him and watched him make his way toward the door, your brow creased in concentration. Making up your mind you walked after him before stepping in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, obviously confused, before stumbling back from the impact of your hug. His hands hovered just like they did last night before you squeezed him tighter and he finally rested them on your back.
Speaking into his chest you told him, “I know I said all you have to do is ask, but I figured you wouldn’t do that.” You heard his chuckle rumble through his chest.
“Am I gettin’ that easy fer you to read?” He seemed just tired enough to not put up a fight at your words and instead went along with them.
Smiling into his sternum you responded, “Maybe, or maybe I just thought you looked like you needed a hug.” He tightened his arms around you before drawing back.
Considering your face for a while before an actual smile graced his features he said, “Maybe I did, sweetheart.” He squeezed your arm before stepping around you and grabbing his keys. You watched him through the screen door as he walked down the drive and started up his truck. Pulling out onto the road he stuck his arm out and waved before he disappeared around the corner ready to start another day in town.
As you watched him go you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, proud that you had gotten him to open himself up just a little bit, and hoping that he would allow you to do that more often.
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Fanfic: DMD: The Quacker-Beagle Bust
Trying this again since I never really liked the Tumblr post AO3 sends out anyway. This was originally the opening scene of a draft of DMD Two, but I’m reworking it again, so I’m publishing this as a short story. Enjoy!
SUMMARY: Darkwing Duck and Duck Avenger chase the Beagle Boys and Quackerjack through Duckburg after the two rob the Money Bin.
Read now on AO3!
Read now of Fanfiction.net!
Preview under the cut.
The setting sun sparkled rays of yellow and orange across the Audubon Bay’s deep blue water. Gentle waves splashed against the sandy edge of Killmotor Hill, a lonely piece of land only minutes away from Duckburg’s coast. Atop it was a grand concrete building with a red dome roof and an eye-catching golden dollar sign on its front.
The Money Bin was truly a Calisota landmark.
The normally bustling headquarters of McDuck Enterprises were currently still, all of the employees having long since gone home. The entire facility was dark, so as not to waste power.
But that didn’t mean the place was completely empty.
“Sure is quiet tonight.”
“That’s ‘cause everyone is gone, Bouncer.”
“I knew that, Big Time, but...it’s weird. Ol Scroogie’s Money Bin is so different at night. It’s kinda...spooky.”
“Aw, stop yer gripin’ and break the door down. You wasn’t built for thinkin’.”
Big Time Beagle shoved his much taller and more densely packed brother towards the wooden door in front of them. Bouncer Beagle looked down at his brother’s scowl, then back to the door. He took a couple steps backward, then moved his shoulder out in front of him.
Inhaling and exhaling, the Beagle Boys’ muscle ran forward and burst through the door. It swung wide from its locked position, throwing splinters forward and into Scrooge McDuck’s office.
Big Time peered inside for a moment at the well-kept and modest space, before his eyes went straight to the tall steel vault door toward the left. He rubbed his hands and snickered deviously before strutting in like he owned the place.
These three Beagle Boys came from a large family of thieves, swindlers, and all-around bad people. They specialized in accumulating as much wealth as possible by any means necessary. And no one in Duckburg had as much money as the legendary Scrooge McDuck. With how many times the Beagle Boys had tried to raid McDuck’s famous Money Bin, they might as well have a stake in McDuck Enterprises. Not that they’d ever buy stock the legal way.
“Megabyte, do your stuff,” whispered Big Time, motioning toward the door. A lankier Beagle Boy with large glasses walked toward the vault door and pressed on a rivet. It sunk like a cold button, uncovering a hidden electronic panel. He plugged a handheld device into a port on the panel and proceeded to execute a program that would unlock the vault and reveal untold riches.
Big Time tapped his foot impatiently as the seconds ticked on. “What’s taking so long?” he hissed.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” said Megabyte. “The security measures are vastly divergent from the previous scenario, and I must update my parameters to compensate.”
Big Time and Bouncer stared at their brother with deep-seated confusion. Megabyte had a tendency to speak in technobabble and often left his less mentally gifted brothers in the dust.
“Say it in Beagle talk!” Big Time and Bouncer groaned.
“McDumb’s changed the code again,” said Megabyte, tapping furiously on his device.
“Swell. Just swell,” said Big Time, throwing his hands in the air.
Bouncer scratched his head. “Maybe that’s why he gave Gizmoduck the day off.”
“That sappy two-bit do-gooder never takes a vacation. He’s probably off on some crummy mission somewhere’s else. Or helping some old codger across a street.”
“That’s pretty nice of him, ya gotta admit,” said Bouncer.
“Shaddap!” spat Big Time. “We’re lucky he is, otherwise, we’d be off to jail faster ‘n you can say ‘Blathering-‘ ”
Big Time froze and looked around frantically. Everything was still. “Phew...Almost called Gizmodweeb to action.” He turned his renewed ire to Megabyte. “Would you hurry it up?!”
Megabyte stuck his tongue out at Big Time. “Chill your chips. I’m almost done.”
His fingers drummed on his device for a moment more, then a resounding thunk changed Big Time’s mood instantly. Megabyte had cracked the lock.
“Bouncer?” Big Time pointed at the door and Bouncer stepped up to it. He grabbed a handle and with a satisfying thunk, he yanked the heavy door open.
The dark office was bathed in light as the reflection from billions of coins inside the vault painted the room in an addictive hue of gold, ruby and emerald. The Beagle Boys’ eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight of three cubic acres of money and treasure, free for the taking.
“Moolah mountain, here we come! Let’s go, Beagles!” said Big Time, running inside. He slid down the ladder just outside the door with Megabyte not too far behind. Bouncer, meanwhile, dove headfirst into the money sea. The two smaller beagles touched down onto the cash, feeling it give only slightly under their feet. They looked to their left in time to see Bouncer slam his head onto the money floor, then fall onto his back.
“Leave the money divin’ to Scroogie,” snarked Big Time, “and stick to what yer good at: baggin’ dough.”
Bouncer sat up and shook his head, dazed but otherwise unharmed. Big Time tossed a burlap sack in his direction and laughed as it draped over Bouncer’s head.
Everything inside the money bin was fair game and the Beagle Boys shoveled as much as they could into their sacks. They swiped priceless jewels, ancient artifacts, and of course, the countless gold coins that filled the cavernous concrete space. All the prized monetary possessions that Scrooge worked for were here for them to take. In no time, the sacks were overflowing with a small fortune.
“I anticipate a heavy profit from these goods,” chuckled Megabyte.
“You can say that again,” said Big Time, tying up his sack. “And we’ll make a killing from McDuck’s treasure too!”
Megabyte scoffed. “That’s what I said.”
Big Time laughed heartily. “You bet! And the best part? No one even knows we’re here!”
As if on cue, a poof emanated from the door and Big Time immediately tensed up. It couldn’t have been, could it? He looked back to see blue smoke creeping down the ladder toward them.
It sure wasn’t Gizmoduck. But who was it?
“Uh, boss?” said Bouncer, teeth chattering. “W-what’s goin’ on?”
“Alright, who are ya, and what’s the big idea?” shouted Big Time defiantly.
An unknown voice let out a menacing cackle and all three Beagle Boys rushed to one another for protection.
“T-this is our job, buddy. G-go an’ f-find yer own!” Big Time asserted, voice shaking despite his attempts to keep cool.
“I am the terror that flaps in the night!” echoed the mysterious voice. It was flamboyant and heroic, not unlike Gizmoduck.
Another voice came into the picture, livelier and a little quacky. “I am the dollar that breaks the Beagles’ back!” That one was familiar.
“Duck Avenger?!” squeaked Megabyte.
“Forgot about me, Beagles?” said Duck Avenger, Duckburg’s other masked defender of justice. “Oh, and I brought a buddy o’ mine too…”
The ball of smoke at the door was swept away with the wave of two capes to reveal Duck Avenger in his black jumpsuit and yellow boots, as well an unfamiliar hero in a purple coat and wide-brimmed gray hat.
His eyes shined behind his purple mask as he threw his cape behind him. “I am Darkwiiiiiiiing Duck!”
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I read your Christmas Sackler piece and loved it! Any chance you could do a one shot of Christmas with Flip? Maybe that ends with his fucking you while trying to keep his Santa hat on lol?? 🎄
second request: May I please request a oneshot w public teasing with Flip? Getting him revved up and kinda pissed at you until he wants to take it out on you and teach you a lesson! Can end as smuttily as you like lol!
flip gets pulled into dressing up as santa for the station’s fundraiser “sit on santas lap” thing.
y/n is his elf and the outfit it like pretty tight and provocative and it drives flip crazy. then after everyone leaves, he tells her to come and sit on his lap...thigh grinding while you tell him what you want for christmas, then he fucks you on all fours on the big ass chair while trying to keep the santa hat on
Santa’s Little Helper—anon request
A/N: hope y’all are ok with me combining these requests! i’m definitely getting in the holiday spirit with all these christmas oneshots! even though its august haha oops whatever.
this is the last installation of “the boys—christmas edition”!! next i’m thinkin...halloween?? let me know if y’all would wanna see that!
PAIRING: flip zimmerman x reader
enjoy, my thirsty friends ;)
Santa’s Little Helper
“We open in five minutes, Flip!” You said cheerily as he just grunts, wearing a full on Santa outfit for the station’s annual Christmas fundraiser. They even colored his beard and mustache white, which you thought was absolutely hilarious.
To help Flip get through the day a bit easier, you volunteered to be his elf. Unfortunately, as nice as your gesture was and as much as he appreciates it, you really weren’t helping him. In fact, you were pretty much doing almost the exact opposite.
The minute he saw you in that little elf outfit, he knew that he was going to be half hard all day looking at your ass in the short skirt. He just sighed and tried not to think about it as the first few kids came in and got in line.
This was gonna be a long ass day.
By the time the last few kids came through, you were exhausted. Your feet hurt from the little costume heels and you’ve had to pee for like an hour, but every time you tried to escape, more children came in.
And, by the look on Flip’s face, it looks like he was feeling just as bad as you were.
When you got back from the bathroom, Flip was still sitting on the chair.
“Baby, why haven’t you gotten up yet? We’re closed now.” You chuckled but immediately stopped when you saw his hungry, darkened eyes.
Flip smirked. “I think one more little girl really wants to come sit on Santa’s lap. A very special little girl.”
Your mouth quirked up in a devilish smirk as you walked up the stairs. “A special little girl, you say?
He nodded. “Very special.”
You approach the oversized Santa chair and take a seat on one of his muscular thighs, giggling one more time at his white beard. Flip rolls his eyes before grabbing you and pulling you forward so that he could whisper in your ear.
“If you want to get on Santa’s nice list, you better grind your sweet little pussy on my thigh as you tell me what you want for Christmas.”
You blushed and gasped as he smacked your ass with a grin. “Been wanting to do that all fucking day. Now come on, get going.”
He drug your hips back and forth, establishing his preferred rhythm before placing them on your thigh and watching you as you moved on top of him.
“That’s a good girl. Now, tell me what you want for Christmas, little girl.”
Your head fell back as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as you continued grinding. “I want...um...a new briefcase, oh!”
He smacked your thigh this time. “Mmmmm...tell me what else you want.”
A deep moan came from your chest. “I-I want a n-new wall phone for my apartment.”
Flip looked up at you with lust-blown eyes, teeth clenched as he spoke. “Keep going. I know that’s not all you want this year.”
You smirked as your grinding sped up, gasping when your clit found purchase against his hardened length. “Well, I was hoping to get some new lingerie...gotta keep my man on his toes, y’know?”
His breath was heavy now as his hands slid back up to your waist, gripping tightly. “W-What kind of lingerie?”
“I was looking at this little black lace set...maybe I’ll get a baby blue set, too.” You rattled as Flip watched your every move, eyes burning holes through you.
He began flexing and bumping his thigh up against you. “Fuck, I’ll bet you look good in baby blue. What does it look like?”
You shivered under his gaze. “I don’t know if I should say it out loud, Santa. It’s pretty...filthy.”
Flip growled and pulled you to his ear. “Then whisper it, little girl.”
You chuckled against his neck, grabbing his hair and pulling his ear right up against your lips. “It’s a see through bra with little bows on the nipples.”
His hips bucked up and he grunted. “Fuck. What else is there?”
“Mmmm...some see through crotchless panties.” You whispered and Flip growled. That did him in.
He quickly stood up and turned you around while desperately trying to undo his costume pants. “Fuck, you look so delicious in that little costume. Been semi-hard all fucking day looking at your ass and whenever you bent over, fuck...thought I was gonna cum in my damn Santa pants. Bend over the fucking chair, put your hands on the seat and spread your legs wide.”
You heard him rustling behind you as you obeyed his commands, bending over just in time to hear the sound of skin slapping. You turned around and smirked at how desperate he looked, stroking his red leaking cock.
“Santa, your cock is so big.” You bit your lip as you looked at him.
Flip smirked. “I knew you were a filthy little slut, prancing around in that slutty outfit all day, fuck! So fucking naughty, its a wonder you’re even getting presents this year.”
You smiled. “All I want for Christmas is your cock, sir.”
Flips eyes were completely black as he came up behind you and lined himself up with your entrance, pulling you up until his lips met your ear.
“Luckily, that’s what the naughty little girls like you get.”
He ripped the crotch of your tights before pushed in roughly, letting you fall down onto your hands as he groaned. He wasted no time starting a steady, fast rhythm as he fucked you from behind.
You let out a loud whimper. “Oh, Santa! Your cock is so big, feels so good fucking me!”
Flip growled, grip on your hips tightened as his hips sped up a little. “My little elf’s pussy is so tight, holy shit. So fucking needy for her master’s cock, huh?”
“Yes, fuck I love it! Need your cock, Santa, please!”
The sound of skin slapping was the only thing you could hear as his thrusts got harder. “You’re such a naughty little girl Y/N, shit! Tell me how naughty you’ve been this year.”
“Oh but Santa, I’ve been so, so naughty this year. Its a long list, sir.” You whimpered and he groaned loudly. “F-Fuck, oh fuck! You really are a dirty little one, aren’t you?”
You gasped when he put one of his feet up on the chair next to you, never missing a beat as he continued to fuck you. Both of you moaned loudly at the new angle before you heard Flip curse from behind you. You turned around to see his hat falling off the side and couldn’t help a giggle.
His eyes narrowed and he grumbled, “Fuck, now I gotta hold this damn thing on while I’m fucking you. Nothing’s ever easy.” You chuckled before he quickly pushed back into you, chuckle turning into a gasp as he picked up his previous rhythm. You immediately began to convulse under him, walls pulsing around his length as you approached orgasm.
Flip growled as he felt you clenching around him. “Look at you, letting Santa fuck your filthy cunt. About to cum all over Santa’s big fat cock, oh fuck, you’re such a good little slut for me.”
Your head tilted back as you let out a small shriek. “Fuck, Santa! I’m so close, please! Please keep fucking me, I need you so badly sir!”
His hips changed angles one more time, causing you to shriek and your back to arch as his strokes began to rub at your g-spot. “Right there, right there baby! Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard for you!”
Flip’s hand gripped your hip hard as he sped up again, fucking into you mercilessly. “Yes, fuck yes, come for me! Come all over Santa’s cock, naughty little girl!”
You cried out as his thrusts and words sent you flying over the edge and into an intense orgasm. You blacked out for a few seconds, pure pleasure clouding your mind for a moment before you came back, just in time to hear and feel Flip’s orgasm.
“Oh fuck, are you ready Y/N? Ready to take all of Santa’s cum in your tight little cunt? Fucking shit, fuck!” He roared before his hips stuttered inside of you, stopping as the first string of cum hit your walls. His roars turned into growls as he gave a few more thrusts inside of you, spilling every single drop of his release inside you before pulling out.
He tucked himself in before coming over to the chair, plopping down on the large seat as he caught his breath. You stood on shaky legs as you recovered from an earth-shattering release, not daring to try and stand fully up before Flip pulled you onto his lap. He wore a huge grin as he covered every inch of your face with kisses before finally connecting to your lips, giving you a sloppy but sweet kiss.
You returned the wide smile as you reached up and pulled his hat off before putting it on. Flip licked his lips and you felt his length begin to harden again.
He leans over to whisper in your ear. “You better get your ass in my truck right now and when we get home, put on that red lacy set on.”
You shivered and squeaked softly as you got up from his lap and grabbed your coat, scurrying out to his truck with him hot on your heels.
This really is the most wonderful time of the year.
damn it, now i’m in such a christmas mood 😩 but i have no regrets. i loved writing these christmas oneshots for y’all and i hope you liked them! <3
@tashastrange89 (i apologize for forgetting you on the last one!)
flip zimmerman-specific taglist:
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I’d call these more, my own interpretations instead of just OCs
I’ll tell you how this happened tho, i was literally just comin back from a l o n g ass road trip listenin to the musical and my tired lil brain started thinkin bout these boys and i was like ...what if i just,, made my o w n versions of em? What if I just,, and then boom, out popped well, this-
| Names: Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde
| Nicknames: Jekyll doesn’t much care for nicknames but Hyde calls him Jek, Hen or Hen-Hen, or Henny which he REALLY hates. For the other, it’s either Ed or just simply Hyde ...Jekyll has given him many ‘nicknames’ mostly they are hateful ones tbh.
| Genders: Henry goes by he/him and Hyde goes by he/him and it/its
| Ages: Unknown but they are both adults
| Heights: Jekyll is 5’7” and Hyde is like 6’6” for sure (even tho they inhabit the same body, fuck it, im makin the rules ..andchangingthemfromtheogthing but i say height changes when Hyde’s in control)
| Species/Races: Henry’s a human ofc and Hyde? Honestly, idk what this thing is, all i can tell you is he’s stinky
| Eye Colors: Jekyll’s eyes are a Baby Blue color and Hyde’s eyes are Blood Red (ooh e d g y man)
| Hair Colors: Jekyll’s hair is honestly a messy curly undercut and the color of it is a dark brown and he has gray on the sides meanwhile Hyde’s hair is Black and in a spiked quiff style and he also has gray on the sides
| Skin Colors/Body Types: Jek’s a BIT pale but Hyde’s a much more- his skin is definitely more so a Whitish Gray kinda color so it’s definitely more noticeable than Jek’s skin if you look close enough at that (things do have to change when a certain one is in control of the body, can’t be EXACTLY the same or else it might give away that their the same person hehe) and their body types don’t really change- Jek’s body type is skinny (nothing TOO bad ofc, just a tad bit) if Hyde had his own body he’d definitely be a more average kinda bulkier build.
| Appearances: Okay first things first- they both have circle beards EXCEPT Hyde’s is a LOT more scruffier (he also has thicker sideburns btw!) and a BIT more grown out than Jek’s which is trimmed a bit more and groomed perfectly.
Jekyll usually has the typical lab coat on and a baby blue turtleneck underneath it, he also has blue pants that he wears with it as well and some oxford shoes that match the outfit, he also wears circle glasses as well (they help him see a lot better p much whereas when Hyde’s in control he doesn't really need em actually) Henry has a GOOD amount of scars all over his body, whether it be by accident, inflicted on purpose, or something more… It’s partially why he keeps his turtleneck on mostly and the lab coat helps as well- he’s ashamed of the scars and he tries to hide them especially so no one will worry about him, also for some more minor details- he wears a black watch on his wrist as well (he has no piercings or nothin like that) that’s p much it for Jek tbh, his features are p much 100% human so uh yeye
Now onto Hyde’s outfit- And yes, keep in mind- he’s still kinda,, an entity or whatever the fuck he is inside Henry’s body essentially but he DOES change his clothes when going out- his main one for going out is usually a black cloak he wears around himself (the outfit underneath is a black suit vest with a long dark red tie (his shirt underneath the suit vest is a dark red long sleeved shirt), he also wears black pants, and dark red oxford shoes, and of course he’s got a black top hat on (the band on it is red, definitely keeping a black n red themed appearance here aint he?) (his other outfits, hm I can leave up to the imagination tbh this is just for when he’s travelling around and so other people don’t spot him nearly as easily, especially when it’s n i g h t t i m e…) he’ll wear whatever the fuck he wants, and it doesn’t have to be fancy in the s l i g h t e s t- he has a variety of options.
He also has pointed ears, razor sharp teeth (got them bear trap teeth but not only that, he’s got a lot more s e c r e t teefs than that ;) he’s a lot more monstrous on the inside than the outside i’ll say that much, Jek’s n Hyde’s anatomy does change and transform depending on who gains control ...honestly it probs hurt to have your body transform and shift like that ouchie) he also has multiple tongues, he has claws that he painted black and red for the a e s t h e t i c s ya know- and hell at this point he might as well have tentacles ...He might- but I mean if you really wanna know, fuck around and find out for yourself and fuck it- he also has a dark red devil style tail since he wanna act like fuckin Satan himself smh
...I made him a lot more monstrous than originally planned but eh its fitting- bc this is Jek’s body even with a LOT of changes in these regards, he’s got the same scars n such as that, he also wears black and red spiral gauges in his ears (I should also say, he can technically hide these features to make himself appear more human, i didnt originally intend on giving him any actual monstrous features except maybe sharp teeth, claws, n the pointed ears but here we are, he still gotta not arouse suspicion around him too much tho) also his eyes have dark circles around them, not because he’s a tired man he’s just a fucking- hellish bastard who loves to look intimidating.
| Personalities: Let’s uhh start off with Jekyll because he’s better and nicer and not nasty and gross n smelly looking- He’s kind, sweet, compassionate, caring, honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly himself- could never willingly hurt someone! A sweet babey man! He’s very intelligent- I mean,, he IS a Doctor after all, he takes pride in his work but it’s not that overbearing narcissistic type pride, he’s just proud of the breakthroughs he’s made ...Granted, there is one “breakthrough” he wished he could take back .. -glancing slowly at Hyde in the reflection of the mirror- ahem- but he’s always been pretty outgoing but a lot has changed since, that abomination came into his life, sure he still tries his best to be a good person, he tries his very damnedest to find some sorta way to separate or better yet a way to destroy this evil vile beast that plagues his and everyone else’s lives! He’d rather destroy Hyde than separate from him because even then, it's still back to square one only with worse damage since he’d be of his own free will now.
He shuts himself away in his Lab a LOT, as much as he can anyways to avoid going out and risking something more happening to anyone else, of course…
There is no avoiding the outside world forever, he needs things to eat and drink, he needs things to keep his body functioning and not to mention not going outside could drive him, well, more insane than he already feels he is- He just tries to be as quick as he can about it before the other takes control or tries to, Jek definitely has a lotta anxieties and fears, and ya know at this point I mean,, hell- the man’s got trauma- Sometimes he wonders if any of this is actually real, if he had just gone insane and was just imagining all this, sometimes his head hurt because of all the thoughts and potential scenarios along with their outcomes plagued his mind, he feels a lot of things he never thought he’d feel towards anyone, he feels anger and hatred toward Hyde but in a way aside from feeling so negatively toward the other, he can’t help but admire the way Hyde wishes to just simply l i v e, and even before this beast became apart of him… He was always anxious deep down and almost scared to take that jump when needed.
But Hyde? Hyde doesn’t seem to even c a r e! That thing lives it’s life without any care whatsoever, he doesn’t have any anxieties or fears at all it seems! In a way, Henry might even be a lil envious toward the other’s carefree attitude and that he’s free of anxieties and fears ...H-He still doesn’t want the other around, he still wishes to destroy Hyde of course, even with the envy and maybe a slight bit of admiration he has his morals and principals, and if Hyde continues to exist or w o r s e gets his own body it could prove v e r y perilous.
Now onto… Eugh, Hyde- The bastard man himself- He’s stinky- an evil bastard who really needs just a good punch in the face (god don't do it yourself tho, he’ll probs eat ur entire arm) Hyde’s absolutely disgusting, will do ANYTHING to get what he desires, he can be narcissistic in some regards, VERY prideful and greedy in many ways, he isn’t above committing murder like really, was he EVER above it? If he wanted, he’d literally murder you not even for a bag of corn chips but literally just one, psh- selling you to satan for one? Bah that’s amateur’s work! He’s somehow a minor inconvenience who can commit REALLY nasty and horrible atrocities at the same time if he feels like it, if he finds out something annoys you or REALLY pisses you off he’s going to keep doing it, he will literally try driving you insane just for the fun of it, really at this point it doesn’t seem like he HAS much of a goal but to just l i v e and cause chaos, destruction, and mayhem wherever he goes, he despises Jekyll in many ways, one being for trying to destroy him first and foremost but also Henny is just s o fucking weak, such a weak man with far too many anxieties, fears, etc- He’d be SO much better of a man if he’d simply let Hyde take control and STAY in control!
It’d make everything a lot easier, then Jek wouldn’t have to worry about ANYTHING ever again! No more of that pathetic nonsense! If it were possible, Hyde would absolutely l o v e to have his own body, separate from Jekyll, that way he could have his own life separate from that pathetic weakling’s! But… Even then, Jekyll and Hyde are one, in many ways they are absolutely apart of one another, two sides of the same coin, even with their MAJOR differences in personality and Hyde almost seeming like an entirely different entity just merely possessing Jekyll, after all, Hyde will admit it himself, he spawned from deep within Jekyll’s mind, he’s tried to get the other to see time and time again that he’s always been apart of the other deep down, Jek’s always had a more mad and evil side to him! Even if the other will deny this and take the denial to his grave, Hyde always persists in trying to get the other to see the truth in front of his eyes!
Aside from that tho, Hyde is just generally a dick and loves to mess with Jek and terrify him sometimes for literally no reason, hell he could be bored one day and decide “Hey Henny, fuck you, you suck” he loves to start drama, he loves to cause problems on purpose- Both of them would give anything to separate from each other, even if Hyde knows the truth deep down bout the both of them, even if he were always originally a part of Jekyll, it didn’t matter, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get his own body, away from that pathetic coward of a man!
| Side Facts: Jekyll rarely ever gets to relax or any free time, he’s too worried to give himself that in fear he’ll lose control, he’s almost CONSTANTLY fighting to keep control over the other, even though he knows it's physically impossible to do so, after all, he can’t stay awake forever, sure that doesn’t stop him from trying to stay awake as long as he can before his body practically forces him to pass out and he’s MUCH weaker than he used to be, I mean hell, given how long Jekyll seems to have been around, fighting SO much and almost EVERY single day has practically worn his body down but whenever there is an opportunity for any “free” time he usually spends it trying to figure out an antidote or a way to get rid of Hyde (I will say, before Hyde REALLY started doing bastardous n horrendous things, Jek would still get annoyed with him bc he was always that way but he actually, I’d say tolerated him more so than he does by now) and Hyde even- well, he still disliked Henry IMMENSELY so, but he definitely wasn’t as bad or as awful as he is to the other now, it was more so I tolerate you and we dont have to seriously fight or struggle with each other for control and back then Jek would even sometimes let Hyde have control.
But then… A serious incident (I wont name what exactly) but a serious incident that happened caused the two to absolutely despise each other (i didnt say up there, yes, Hyde absolutely despises Jekyll but there is some heavily hidden admiration in regards to the other’s determination, his persistence, and even somewhat of his creativity, Jekyll despite being an annoying nuisance in Hyde’s way, he does have some admirable things about him) but anyway- ever since that incident occurred, Jek has tried almost EVERYTHING he knew of to get rid of Hyde, even if separation from his body would still be bad bc that could mean Hyde would obtain his own body honestly? I believe Jekyll would still take that opportunity if he were given it, if he needed, he’d try and find someway to stop Hyde’s evil, maybe it’d be easier even if the other had his own body, he didn’t know, he just wishes he could be free from all this torment and agony like gosh damn give this man a b r e a k. Give him some fruit gummies and an appy juice carton and leave him be!
When Hyde is in control he wastes little time in finding things to do, being able to be out, to see the world, the world ripe for chaos and destruction, he wastes little time in getting straight to work with whatever his devious lil mind wants to think of- also for more monstrous purposes, back up there, I was p vague with the mention of teeth on his insides- p much teeth going down his throat and hell who knows, the bastard probably has teeth on the inside of his stomach at this rate- Another not so fun fact, this man can unhinge his jaw! Yaaay so u can see sharp teefs! ...He does have to kinda set his jaw back in place though bc god forbid Jek takes control then.
Smh imagine taking back control of your body only to have a fucking dislocated j a w wouldn’t that be hellish?
Hyde rarely ever does this for a few reasons- he only does it if he’s in the mood for just takin a big chomp outta someone (big chompy) just, just please- lock this thing away- or kill it, it's a menace to society and deserves nothing good- two more things btw, tbh I genuinely wasnt even considering inhuman features at first but ya know, I compromised- he has them he just chooses to hide them more often and speaking of, while Hyde says he’s always been apart of Jekyll (well this version I made anyway) that deep down their two sides of the same coin, can you really believe him? I mean, I’m not going to spoil it and tell ya anything in that regard, but who knows, who knows what Hyde REALLY is, whether or not he’s always been apart deep down inside of Jek or just some form of entity that spawned via that wonderful little formula.
And the final thing is, their voices are p much based on the musical ones' voices- Hyde’s is that deeper n raspier kinda voice while Jek’s is much softer and ya know POLITE sounding.
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Hello! I have a request to make. Can you write Arthur flirting with a very shy reader who ends up hiding and avoiding him but loves it deep down throughout the day? He's being no help though, finding her demeanor adorable and goes after her to see her blush some more by teasing.
Hello Anon! Sorry for how long this has taken! Anywhere, here’s this fun one shot for ya, I hope it isn’t too bad.
You finish hanging up the shirt you’d just washed so it can dry in the early afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful day at Horseshoe Overlook. The sun’s been out all day but it’s not too hot. You’ll take this any day over the frozen misery of Colter. You’ll be happy if you don’t have to see the snow again for a long time.
Just as you head over to Pearson’s wagon to get a drink, Arthur trots up on his horse. Your eyes find him instantly and he beams at you, waving. He’s done that every time he returns since Colter. You blush and return the wave quickly before scurrying off. Something about Arthur gives you butterflies.
Out of all the gang members, Arthur’s the man you’re closest too. It probably has something to do with that event in Colter, but you only dare remember that in your dreams. It’d been too perfect, but Arthur changed towards you after that, for the better. Before, he’d been just as friendly with you as he was with the other girls, but now he’s… no, you sternly say to yourself. He’s not flirting with you. No way in hell is Arthur Morgan flirting with you.
Throughout the day while he’s in camp though, he seems to pop up whenever you move from one area of camp to the next. When you went from Pearson’s wagon to your own tent to get something, he’d been at Dutch’s tent, talking to him. He’d tipped his hat to you and smiled, again making you blush. When you went to the main campfire, he walked past you and it seemed like he purposely bumped into your shoulder. Not hard, but enough to gently push you. “Sorry, Y/N,” he said, catching your arm. “Gotta watch where I’m walkin’.” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze before walking off.
By afternoon, you’re helping Pearson make dinner. Arthur and John walk past. They stop a few feet from the wagon and you can hear them talking. They seem to be deciding the best way to rob a stage with some wealthy people riding up from Blackwater.
“I say we just do the usual approach, Arthur,” John says, his back to you. “Just point some guns at ‘em, they’ll throw all their money our way. These soft city people ain’t got much spunk.”
“Yeah, but then they’ll talk,” Arthur counters. “I’ve robbed enough rich folk to know that merely scarin’ ‘em ain’t gonna keep them off your back long. I suggest we take one of the girls, have her put on an act. Make the stage stop, distract ‘em while we rob ‘em blind.”
“Well which one of the girls?” John asks. “Mary-Beth is always a good choice, but there ain’t no one who plays the lost little girl like Karen.”
Arthur’s eyes brush over to you briefly. He’s got one hand on his gun belt. He couldn’t look more attractive if he tried. “I say Y/N. I bet she knows how to do the act just fine. Y/N!” he calls you over.
You blush again and walk over, feeling quite small to the men. “Yes?”
John looks at you, almost as though wondering if you’ll do, but Arthur smiles softly at you. “You wanna help us on a job?” he asks.
“Sure. Is it that stage you’ve been talking about the last two days?”
“Sure is,” John says, walking over to the horses. “Come on you two, mount up and let’s go rob these bastards.”
Just as you’re about to hop onto your horse, Arthur stops you. “I was thinkin’... you should put on the injured woman act on the trail. Best way to pull it off is if you ride my horse.”
You can feel your cheeks burning. “O-oh, that’s okay, Mr. Morgan. I’d hate to be a burden.”
“Ain’t a burden, miss, I’m the one offerin’. Come on, it’ll be fine.” He hops into his saddle and then offers his arm expectantly. You’re not sure how to tell him no so you just grab his arm and he swings you up behind him. Hesitating a bit, you wrap your arms around his body. Damn, he’s firm but warm. He turns his horse with a soft click and then canters up to meet John. You bury your face in his back to keep the wind out of your face. Little do you know he’s swimming in the joys of having your arms around him. There isn’t a thing he wouldn’t give to put his arms around you too.
The trip is relatively short as the men take the horses just south of Flatneck Station. There, Arthur helps you dismount. He and John give you instructions on how to stop the stage and then they disappear into the trees. Feeling inspired and determined to do this job properly to impress Arthur, you sit down and roll around in the dirt a bit to make your clothes dirty to make it look like you’ve fallen from your horse.
Not long after, a stage approaches from the south end of the trail. You hold your arm up and wave to the driver.
“Oh please sir, could you help me?” you say from the ground. “My horse got spooked by a snake and threw me.”
The stage miraculously stops. “Anything broken, ma’am?” the driver asks as his two passengers peak out. They’re both women, finely dressed with broad hats on their heads, colorful plumes waving lazily in the breeze.
“I don’t think so, but my leg’s numb. I know Flatneck ain’t too far from here, could you give me a ride there and I can grab a train home?”
The driver looks back at his passengers, who nod. He gets down and helps you up, although you put on quite the show of having an injured leg. You see John and Arthur quietly approaching the back of the stage where the luggage is. You’re almost standing and the driver’s about to turn and see them, so you pretend to take a bad step and fall to the ground again, knowing how ridiculous you must look.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Guess my leg’s worse than I thought. This is real embarassin’.”
“That’s alright, ma’am. Come on, let’s get you up.” Arthur gives you the thumbs up and then he and John run off the trail and out of sight. You stop putting on nearly as strong of an act and let the driver guide you into the stage. Inside, you thank the two women and the stage goes down the road. After only a few moments, it stops and the driver helps you onto the platform of Flatneck Station. Arthur and John walk up on their horses, acting like two innocent travellers.
You thank the driver. “Oh I wish I could pay you somehow for your kindness, but I’ve only enough money for a ticket home. Perhaps this will suffice?” you reach up and kiss his cheek. The man smiles.
“That’ll do, ma’am, you stay safe ya hear?” He climbs back up onto the stage and whips the horses, riding off down the trail. You make a show of waving the two women off. Once they’re out of sight, you run over to Arthur and John, beaming. “Did you get it?”
Arthur grins. “That we did. That was one hell of a show.” He slides off his horse and walks over to you.
“I’ll see you two in camp,” John says heavily. “I promised Abigail I’d go into town, pick something up. That woman…” He rides off before finishing, leaving you alone with Arthur.
“So, should we actually get a train home?” you ask Arthur, feeling quite self conscious. You’ve never fully appreciated just how big Arthur really is.
He smiles. “Nah, I’s thinkin’ we could just ride back on home. That’s if you don’t need nothin’ else? We could go somewhere if ya want.”
Is Arthur really offering to take you somewhere? He’s never offered this to any of the other girls, even when he heard them complaining about being stuck in camp.
“I… only if you don’t mind, Arthur, I know you got a lot going on.”
“Ah, that stuff can wait. I got time to spend on ya.” He hides his eyes beneath his hat, a soft pink touching his cheeks. You’re blushing too of course. You know exactly how rough and even scary Arthur can be, you’ve seen it. You never knew he could be so sweet and generous though.
“Okay. I wouldn’t mind seeing that moving picture in Valentine. Heard some folks talkin’ about it the other day,” you say. “Only if you don’t mind, of course.”
“Nah, I won’t mind as long as you don’t mind ridin’ on my horse again.”
Your face must look sunburned at this point, you’ve no doubt. “I don’t mind in the slightest.”
He nods and mounts up again, lifting you up behind him. He doesn’t gallop to Valentine like you expected he would. Instead, he walks his horse there. When you point out it’ll take a lot longer, he doesn’t seem to mind. “Unless you’re in a rush,” he adds.
“Of course not, Mr. Morgan.”
“Arthur. Call me Arthur, miss. You been runnin’ with us long enough, ya can drop the formalities.”
“Okay, but only as long as you stop callin’ me miss.”
He chuckles. Along the way, you both talk. You’re finding it incredibly easy to be open with him, you tell him things you haven’t told another person before. He doesn’t judge you though, and he tells you about his own past as well and how he feels about things. You can’t help but trust him.
When you finally get to Valentine, he helps you off his horse again and then leads you up to the ticket vendor. The boy there charges him fifty cents for two tickets.
“Oh no, I can pay for my own seat, Arthur,” you say but he slams down the money and winks at you.
“Arthur, you really shouldn’t have paid for me,” you say as he walks you over to the tent. Just before reaching the entrance, he stops you.
“I wanted to, Y/N. But… well, there is a way you can repay me for this.”
His cheeks are red and he smiles a bit. “Same way you paid the stage driver.”
Your heart skips a beat. Kissing the stage driver had been nothing, he was just a stranger. But this is Arthur Morgan. You’ve only had a crush on him for weeks now. How you imagined it would feel to have his hands on yours, to feel his lips caress your skin. You blink, you’re getting ahead of yourself. He’s just merely asking for a kiss on the cheek, it’s not like he’s asking you to strip down or touch him inappropriately.
You smile, trying to calm yourself down. “I can do that.” You reach up, but just as you’re about to kiss his cheek, he turns his head and his lips meet yours. You freeze at the contact and then quickly pull away. “S-sorry! I must have twitched!” you say. You must have.
He chuckles, his whole face red. “Did that feel like a twitch? Nah, sorry. I been wantin’ to do that for some time now. Hope… hope you don’t mind.”
You smile at him. “Not as much as you think. Should we go see this motion picture?”
He gestures for you to go in front of him. Once seated, you make sure to stay close to him. He seems stiff, like he feels bad about the kiss. You’re desperate for another one though, but it seems like he won’t make a move first this time. When the movie starts, you ignore it. You grab his arm and wind it behind you. He looks at you curiously in the darkness. Before he can whisper anything, you kiss him on the lips again. You’re glad it’s dark, he can’t see how much your entire face is burning. You hesitate in the kiss and then dive back into it with much more enthusiasm. His arms wrap around you, his hands tangling into your hair. You’re practically on top of him, but you don’t care.
“Shhhhh!” a voice suddenly hisses from two rows up. You break apart and look, but whoever shushed you is staring at the screen again. You’re quite embarrassed now. Arthur’s hand rubs up your back.
“Come on, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear. “How about we go somewhere we won’t be a distraction?”
You bite your lip and smile before standing up, his hand in yours. You lead him towards the bright opening. Lord only knows where this encounter with Arthur Morgan will lead, but you’re excited to find out.
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Read me here!
Pairing: OC!Elizabeth Miller x JJ Maybank
Word count: approx. 3676
Episode: ⍉ filler chap between ep 5 & 6
A/N: ptsd, detailed description of assault injuries, panic attack, mentions of rape, language.
A/N: I really want y’alls opinion on this chapter because it is quite different from the rest and 100% not in the canon OBX , I wanna know if you’d like more off-script things like this because even if it was difficult and a real head scratcher to write I like that it adds depths to beth
Also full shoutout and big thank to @stiles-o-dylan24 for helping me figure out this chapter and what would and wouldn’t work & to know if it would be something that’s interesting. Thank you hunny💛
After the horrendous night that was midsummers, Elizabeth drags JJ to her house, not wanting him to go back home after the day’s events and also selfishly because she wants to keep him close. When they arrive at her house in the Twinkie, Elizabeth sees her mother’s car in the driveway, a few candles lit up in the small house.
“She’s gonna kill me.” Beth huffs out, just wanting to get out of the dress. JJ stays silent, a dark look on his face. They walk quietly into the one-story house, a few candles lit up in the hallway and as Beth walks past each one, she blows them out.
“Go sit, I’ll huh—I’ll get us somethin to eat.” She smiles walking towards the kitchen.
She doesn’t hear him or feel him walk behind her, with her back facing the door and the low humming of the old broken fridge she doesn’t hear him suck in a breath. He walks behind her, his front pressing against her back and she tenses up.
“You got anything?” he asks, his head resting on her shoulder. She breathes out, closing her eyes for a quick second before shaking her head.
“Not yet.” She mumbles, shivers running down her spine when she feels the weed laced breath on the curve of her neck. She moves away from his bod, walking to the pantry and finding some cookies and peanut butter. She turns around showing him the items and he nods, a small smile on his face.
“C’mon, I just want to sleep.” She says with a yawn, walking out of the kitchen and into her room that’s the next room.
She drops the food on her bed and move to the small mirror in her room, unpinning her hair, her hands going through it. Getting out the knots that had accumulated throughout the night. She sees him, in the reflection of the mirror, watching her. He takes off his hat and puts it on the dresser, his bag following soon after. He turns his back to her and he grabs a pair of sweatpants he keeps in the last drawer of the piece of furniture, she tenses up in the few seconds it takes him to unbuckle his old belt, both his pants and buckle falling on the floor, the quiet clanking of it making her close her eyes with a shudder, biting down on her lip to keep the scared whimpers in. He kicks the pants away and puts on the sweatpants, sitting down on the bed.
“You comin’?” he asks shaking the cookie box.
“Yeah, just gonna change.” She says grabbing new long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants instead of her usual tank top and shorts.
Her shaking hand reaches for the doorknob trying to remember if she was the one to close the door. She lets out a relieved sigh she didn’t know she was holding in when the knob turns, signaling that the door was unlocked. She never wants to be scared of being in the same room as JJ, or sleeping in the same bed, he was her safe place and she didn’t want the blue eyes and warm touch she craved to be tarnished by his gray ones and forcible touch. Sending a look to his unsuspecting body she opens the door fully and exists her room, she walks through the door frame, quick images attacking her brain. Looking at the hallway she breathes in deeply and soundly as if she was locked in an airless room. She walks quickly to the bathroom closing the door behind her, undressing, a shaky gasp leaving her lips when the now dark and prominent marks are fully visible and developed. She clenches her jaw, wiping aggressively at the tears flowing down her cheeks.
“I’m okay.” She repeats in a whisper, not wanting to attract the attention of the boy. She looks at her reflection and almost has pity, her face turns red, her abdomen a mix of yellows, greens, blues and purples. Her hands are clammy, and she balls them up to stop them from shaking. She puts the tank top followed by JJ’s grey sweatshirt over her head, pulls up the sweatpants over her legs. She takes off the rest of the jewelry, wipes off the thin layer of makeup left on her face and more silent tears fall down her face when a light green color appears around her eye and the side of her face. She looks at her hands and she notice that she scratched the inside of her thumb almost raw, a few dry flecks of skin under her bitten and abrupt nails. The brunette breathes out, going back to her room, noticing that the boy had fallen asleep under the covers, light snores escaping his parted lips and she smiles, knowing that his sleep wasn’t usually peaceful but that at least he got some rest. She bends down, pulling the covers on his shoulder before brushing some hair away from his face.
“My sweet boy.” She mutters against his tan skin, wiping away a stray tear of hers that was about to fall on his skin.
Elizabeth grabs JJ’s bag and walks out of the room, she picks up her mother’s car keys and leaves the house. Once in the car, she opens the windows and drives the long distance to her destination. She breathes heavily, her heart feeling heavy once she pulls in the building’s driveway. She looks up, seeing a few open lights in the windows. She walks in the building, the harsh lights blinding her sore eyes. She looks down at her barely working phone for the information she needs before making her way upstairs, trying to not attract the attention as she is clearly not supposed to be there at that time. She follows the numbers on the identical doors and stops when she reaches her goal.
Opening the door, she passes her head through, seeing him asleep, his curly locks all over the place. She enters the cold room, letting the bag fall with a quiet thud on the floor making the boy jump in his sleep, his eyes opening and only seeing a small and silhouette.
“Who’s there?” his gruff says loudly.
“Shhh, Johnny, it’s me.”
“What the f—” he sits up, turning on the lamp beside the hospital bed. “Ellie? What are you doing there?”
“I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She says, trying to stifle a sob. “They didn’t let me come.” She says in a small voice.
“What?” he asks surprised to see his childhood best friend seem so mentally small.
“In the ambulance. I couldn’t go.” She looks over at him, seeing his arm in a cast.
“Come here.” He says moving to the side, she moves quickly to lay down next to him, his arm wrapping around her, bringing her to him before kissing her forehead reassuringly.
“I’m not hurting you, am I? You did fall from pretty high.” She chuckles.
“Nah, I’m good.” He chuckles, being careful to not mess up with his cast.
“Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a tough guy.” She says with a small smile, flicking the tip of his nose.
“I’m wounded, injured. Nurse! Nurse!” he whispers-yells making her laugh.
“Shh, they might actually hear you and I’m gonna get thrown out.”
“What are you doing here, Lizzie?” he asks seriously.
“Couldn’t sleep, my mind’s going a hundred miles per hour.”
“What’s going on in there?”
“Thinking about your dad, a lot. I’m thinking about how our lives changed so much in the last few days, we got shot at for fuck’s sake.”
“What about JJ?”
“What about him?” she moves her neck to look at the boy.
“You thinkin ‘bout him too?”
“Sure. My mom offered again –” she trails off, her hand touching the plastic over his cast. “that he comes to live with us I mean.”
“he said no, I guess?”
“he’s gonna be fine, he’ll survive.”
“that’s the thing John,” she sits up, turning around towards him, grabbing his hand. “he shouldn’t have to survive his father’s assault. He shouldn’t even have to live through that.”
“We got lucky.”
“Don’t say that.” He sends her a confused look. “don’t compare our lives with his, it’s unfair. The guy’s mom left, his dad’s beating him senseless, hasn’t said a nice thing to him in years. Yeah, John, we got fucking lucky, you’re lucky that your mom left and that your dad’s dead somewhere, getting eaten by birds and that my dad left with everything we had, sold the house without our knowledge, left us with nothing but our fucking clothes for like months—” her voice raises, and she takes a deep breath, keeping the tears in, she sniffles and gets off the bed, pacing back and forth. “None of us three are lucky, we have shit lives.” She finishes pulling at the roots of her hair.
She turns towards him, her mouth open to try and let air to her lungs. Her eyes are red again, her breathing’s uneven, John B notices her hands shaking.
“Hey! Hey, you’re okay.” He moves towards her with difficulty.
“I’m just sick of living like this, paycheck to paycheck, most of the time we don’t even make it. I don’t know how you’re still there, the fridge’s always empty and it’s just not fucking worth it, anymore John. It’s always the same, I’m tired of always being scared.” She looks at him, taking a long breath after her rant, her ribs hurting a little bit.
“It’ll be worth it, Ellie. We’ll get the gold, we’ll all be together, JJ is gonna be okay, you and your mom will be perfectly fine because I’ll be there.” He smiles at his oldest friend, a warm smile that reassures her a little bit. “What happened to your face?” he asks once the light from outside hits her face his expression changing to a darker one, she had forgotten that he hadn’t properly seen her in almost forty-eight hours. He sits up straight, his whole body hurting because of the fall he had taken a few hours later.
“You saw JJ, right?” he nods, the worried expression on his face taken over by the anger that’s slowly filling up his body.
“His dad did that?” she nods, her arms wrapping around herself, she looks at her friend, her vision getting blurry. He starts to move out of the bed abruptly, wincing because of the pain but he stops once she takes a step back. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says carefully.
“I know, I just can’t help it.”
“Okay, I’ll stay here.” He says defensively, not wanting to upset her any further. “you’re okay, right? He didn’t hurt you otherwise?” seeing her avoid his gaze he moves in front of her, grasping her shoulders with his large hands. She sucks in a breath; her head starting to hurt and tenses up and tries to get out of his grasp. He holds her in place as he watches her start to shake, large tears falling out of her eyes, she tries to fight against him, “Ellie, Ellie, look at me. Look at me!” he calls out and she screws her eyes shut, trying to shut him out. She groans and whines while she tries to pull herself out of his grasp. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” She shushes her, pulling her against him.
“Leave me. I don’t want to.” She whines, her breath short. “Let me go, John B let me go please, please, please, please.” Her clear state of mind declines quickly and, in a few seconds, she’s trashing against him, wanting nothing more than to be free. He raises his hands up with her pleas, deeply worried. “what happened to you?” he asks in gentle voice, towering over.
“Can you sit down please?” she asks, and he sits on the bed almost at her level. “don’t say anything please.” She requests between sobs. She grabs the hem of the grey sweatshirt, inhaling its scent quickly before it goes on the bag. She stays in the tank top, only lifting it up a little bit, her tan skin multi-colored from the hits she had taken earlier that day.
“Fuck, Ellie.” He says as his eyes open wide in shock. She shakes her head, silently requesting for him to stay silent.
“Earlier Luke came to bail JJ out and I was with them, didn’t want to leave him alone with that man. Hum, so they got in the car and he- he started to hit him, I was sure he was going to kill him, fuck he wasn’t even moving. He had him against the door, inside the car and he just kept going. I-I couldn’t do anything, so I tried to get JJ’s mind off of it and Luke got sick of it or something because he got a few good punches in.” she chuckles awkwardly. “I got a few good ones in too. Hum, but yeah so that’s what happened this year.” She says and immediately looks up at him, gaging his reaction.
“This year?” she nods and quickly puts the shirt back on, toying at the ring around her thumb.
“At midsummers last year—” a sob goes through her body, the images of her small body pinned under his send shivers down her back, rubbing her hands together she keeps her gaze fixated on his cast. “Ray raped me. He, huh, joined me in the room I was changing in before the party and he locked the door.” She looks up at him not expecting to see a tear fall out of his eye. “We- I, huh my mom and I pressed charges and now he’s behind bars for a few years.” She nods at no one. “I told Kie earlier... Nobody knows.” She finishes and he stands up, making her take a small step back, he winces.
“Can I- Can I hug you?” he asks, his voice breaking, and she looks up at him with amazement, nobody had ever asked her before. She nods and tenses up when he hugs her, relaxing when she breathes in a mix of JJ and John B’s scents. “I’m so sorry. Sorry that I wasn’t there.” She shakes her head.
“Don’t do that. Nobody knew, I kept this for a year. I’m just scared, I guess.”
“Of what? Ray?”
“No,” she looks down at her feet then wraps her arms around herself. “telling JJ.” She watches as he frowns. “I don’t know how he’ll react, don’t know if he’ll even have a reaction. Will he care?” she asks herself and John B shakes her a little bit.
“Are you crazy? Jesus, Ellie, JJ will care more than anyone. I’m not saying Kie and I don’t care, we do. It’s just that JJ, he’ll understand it more than we do. Where is he right now?”
“At home, asleep.”
But JJ Maybank’s not asleep, he is far from it, his hands are in his hair, pulling at it nervously. He woke up at the sound of a door closing, finding the brunette and his bag containing the gun gone. A thousand thoughts are going through his brain and he doesn’t know which one to follow. Is she at his house? Is she doing something stupid, is she okay? Did she leave him?
“He’s asleep and I should head back before he wakes up.”
“Stay here a few minutes.” He says and pulls her gently against him, grabbing her shaking hands in his calm and warm ones. “Take a few minutes.” They lay down in the uncomfortable bed, if someone passed by it’d look like two lovers spending some time together but, in their hearts, a big brother was helping his little sister. She opens her eyes quickly, seeing that it is still dark outside and hearing soft snores from beside her.
“John B?” she calls out and he groans. “Dude, what time is it?” he moves sleepily, turning back towards the clock.
“A little after 1.” He mumbles.
“Shit, I gotta go.” She says and she gets off the bed, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Johnny.” She smiles at his sleepy smile and sneaks out of the room and the hospital.
Once in the car, she opens the windows once again and drives the long distance to her next destination. She parks in front of the house, all the lights off. She huffs out a breath, she starts to walk back to the car when she hears a faint echoing sound coming from behind the house. She makes her way around, a small light turned on at the end of the dock. She sees his dark silhouette, watches from afar as he throws large rocks in the water, watching the water ripple in response. She wants to grab the gun she knows is in the bag, but she stops herself. Physically shaking her head before walking down the grass and onto the wooden platform.
“You won’t pull a gun on me, will you?” he asks turning around. “Your boyfriend did it, you did it on Rafe the other night.” He chuckles darkly.
“Shut up, Thornton.” She says leaning her arms on the railing next to him.
“Whatcha doin here, Miller?”
“I never thanked you.” She mumbles, moving the hair out of her face.
“Last year, for finding me when you did.” She sniffles, grabbing the bag quickly and pulling out a perfectly rolled joint. “Wanna share?” she asks, and he nods.
She lights it, pulling a puff from it before passing it to the fake blonde.
“So, what’s up? You didn’t come here for that.”
“I did,” she says, and he sends her a surprised look. “That’s right Top, big bad emotionless Elizabeth Miller has emotions.” She says snarky. “I’m grateful. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a fucking ass, but I’m grateful that you were there.” She releases the smoke in the air, her whole-body relaxing.
“How have you been since?”
“Taking it one day at a time, trying to dissociate him from others.”
“Men.” She mumbles turning around, her back against the railing and he looks down at her.
“You mean that you and Maybank aren’t—”
“No, we’re not fucking.” She rolls her eyes and he chuckle.
“Are- are you okay, though?” he asks, looking down at her.
“I guess. Today was fucking hard, actually being there, took me a few minutes to get in the house.” He nods, taking another hit from the joint.
“You told anyone?”
“John B and Kiara.” She shivers, the late hour and being so close to the water bringing a chill down her spine. “Told em’ today.”
“That’s good. Getting it off your chest, talking to other people.”
“What? You don’t like our late-night talks? Thought you had a soft spot for me, T.” he rolls his eyes.
“I hadn’t been back here in a while. It’s so peaceful.” She closes her eyes, breathing in the clean air.
“Yeah it is. Was even greater when the boat was parked there.” He gestures to the empty water next to the dock.
“Y’all searched for it.” She snaps. “I don’t know what Rafe’s up to lately but it’s messing with y’alls heads.” She turns around and looks at him. “It was fucking messed up.” She sends him a harsh glare.
“Just don’t come on our side of the island.” He grumbles and she rolls her eyes at his sour mood.
“Whatever. Y’all aren’t invited in the Boneyard anymore.”
“The Pogue princess gives orders now?” she nods, a smirk on her lips and she takes the last hit of the joint before crouching down and soaking it in the water.
“Tell the Kook princess to behave and we’ll have no problem.” She snickers.
“We’re not really together anymore.”
“is that so? Wouldn’t have guessed, with her kissing John B last night and you pushing him off the eagle’s eye.
“I didn’t push him; the wood was rotten.”
“Yeah, okay.” She chuckles, the joint slowly entering her bloodstream, making her feel light, her heart not as heavy anymore.
“Want me to drive you home?”
“No, JJ’s there and I can drive myself thank you very much.” He nods and follows her back to the car. She climbs in, the windows rolled down and she watches as he leans forward.
“I’m here, y’know. No kook or pogue business.” He says seriously.
“Aw, Toppi, you like me.” She smiles sweetly and he shakes his head. “That’s right; deny, deny, deny!” she laughs. “But yeah I know. How crazy would our lives have been if our dad hadn’t gotten in that fight, huh?”
“Why were they fighting?”
“Your mom.” She chuckles before moving the car on drive, an easy and tired smile on her face. She drives off, her mind slightly more at ease than it was a few hours ago.
She stops by the 24h corner store, grabbing a few things before driving back home. When she arrives, the headlights illuminate JJ Maybank, the blonde sitting on the front step, his head resting in his two hands. His head snaps up when he hears the car on the grovel, by the car in a few steps in stares at her.
“Where were you?”
“Went for a drive. Here.” She throws him his bag.
“Went for a smoke.”
“Thought you went for my dad.” He mumbles as she arrives at his level and she stops.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” She says grabbing his arm. “I wouldn’t take away the last family you’ve got left, J.” she shakes her head.
“You guys are my family.” He says and she smiles. Grabbing him by the back of his neck and pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lips before walking inside, both of their minds swirling with a thousand thoughts.
TAGLIST: @siwiecola @gigi-june - @stiles-o-dylan24 - @alexa-playafricabytoto - @jjxobx - @pink-meringues - @stilinskiswritings - k-k0129 - @frankiebcanon - @jaxandcomet
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till the sun comes shining through (1/?)
It's a life of working hard and playing harder. Rose is the daughter of an old family trying to keep up with modern times. James is the boy of a family who left for easier living. It was natural for them to collide. Rodeos and events keep them on their toes, pushing them closer. All they know is they have a life to lead and it's better with two.
Rating: Teen (Some sexual implications, mild violence)
TW: Mild violence, drinking.
A/N: It’s a cowboy au bc i love writing about things inspired by my own life babey. yeehaw.
Song: Cause I Love You - Johnny Cash (Title) and What Was I Thinkin’ - Dierks Bentley (Chapter)
Read on Ao3
Chapter One: Come and Get Me Grin
What was I thinkin'
Oh, I knew there'd be hell to pay
But that crossed my mind a little too late
Rose Tyler was the most beautiful girl James had ever seen. He decided that years ago. He was a year older but the same class as her in high school. Keeping at least an acquaintance with her for the first two years. Before their junior year where they really got to talk at a party. He’d been chasing her ever since. And she had fun leading him.
Her family bought the old McCrimmon ranch before she was born. Her father was a cowboy legend. Raised to ride bulls and that he did. Winning enough by riding in the PBR to be able to invest in more land at the age of twenty. They raised cattle and trained horses. Her mother was a champion of her own. Training and riding horses in world class events. Rose stayed humble though. She was carefree. No restraint in her friendliness or attitude. It was a warm welcome in James’s life.
His family wasn’t a fan of the friendship. Especially once they sold their farm.
When she told him to meet her at the front gate of her property, he stumbled over his okay. It was a given. He wasn’t one of the idiots to say no to her. Or maybe he was the idiot to say yes. There was a rumor that Pete Tyler was more than a bull rider. Something to do with another guy and Jackie. James never asked about it. It was just something that came back around whenever word got around that Rose was going on a date in high school.
But they weren’t in high school anymore. And he was glad that he wouldn’t have to hear it again. Especially since his nerves were already on fire, sitting at the edge of the Tyler property.
When she climbed over the gate, he knew he was in trouble. But didn’t really think about what it meant.
“You might wanna drive,” She said as she hopped into his passenger seat, “I think dad heard me.”
“Wait another minute or two and you’ll see why.”
So he did. Not sure if it was because he felt the need to prove himself or to see if the rumors about her dad were true. Maybe it was both. But the sound of a shotgun made him kick the truck into drive,
“What the fuck?”
She shrugged and smiled, “It was an actual warning, y’know?”
Rose was wearing a tank top that belonged in an early 2000s horror movie. It was a size too small and showed off her midriff. He wasn’t complaining. Especially when she made an obvious move to sit in the middle seat to change the radio station. James found himself clenching his jaw. Just to make sure none of the stupid thoughts going through his mind came out. Not that there were many there at all.
During the commercials between songs, they caught up. They hadn’t really spoken like they used to since graduating. Both of them falling into work. James was a farmhand at several ranches. Rose was working with her mom and dad. Taking care of cattle and training horses.
She talked about a new horse until she realized what road they were on. He didn’t even realize. Until her entire mood shifted slightly. Into something that made his cheeks turn red.
“What have you got planned for us tonight?” She asked, batting her eyes.
“Oh, the Amber Tree is doing somethin’ tonight. I think a band is playing? I’m really not that sure.” He tried to sound cool and confident.
She smirked at him, “Who told you that?”
“What d’you mean?”
“I know how you boys work. You talk to each other to figure out the hottest spot. Who’d you talk to?”
He pretended to be offended, slapping his hand over his heart and glancing at her with a sigh, “You think I’m boring? Let me show you a bit of fun tonight then.”
She laughed, “You think I would’ve asked you out if I thought you were going to be boring?”
He pressed down further on the gas and grinned at her, “I sure hope not.”
The highway they had turned onto went through a forest until a railroad crossing. The music echoed back at them through the tunnel of trees. She seemed to know every song on the radio. Unlike him, he could only pick out a few. She didn’t seem to notice. Singing to him or out the window, grabbing his arm to get him to look at her.
He tried to keep his eyes on the road. Luckily he knew it like the back of his hand. Because she was determined to make him look and keep him looking.
Once they got past the train tracks, she hung out the side window for a bit, whooping at the moon. He laughed and whooped with her. It was all so natural. It was fun. The most fun he’s had in months. It made some type of warmth pump through his veins. And all he wanted was more of it.
And that he got.
When they crossed the county line, blue and red lights flashed behind him. Rose slid back in with a wide smile and looked at him like she was saying, “Well, prove what you got.” So he did. Changing the gear and swiftly pulled off into a field. The wind whipped through her hair, wisps of it stinging his face. She kept looking behind them, telling him how far behind the cop was. He wasn’t worried. He hoped he’d remember to tell her that he’d done this a few times. And his best story of one of those times.
He really did try to avoid the crops. Although he heard at least one stock of corn get caught underneath him. The other side of the field was a dirt road, which he tore out onto.
“Why don’t you go faster, cowboy?”
If he had to give an excuse or reason to go faster, he would’ve had to blame the testosterone spike those words caused. And usually, he’d try to keep in line. But if she was asking, then James would just have to do it.
The smile he got in response was worth it. A tongue-touched grin. James decided that he’d probably do anything for another smile like that.
It was another five minutes of loud music and speeding before they made it to the bar. It was already busy. Nine at night would do that to places like these in small towns. Especially when there was a promise of live music and fights. Although, fights weren’t on the posters.
He wiped his palms on his jeans and looked back at her, “Ready?”
“As long as you can keep up.”
They were both technically underage. Technically because the bar didn’t care nor did it really have enough staff to do so. The bar itself was full of old timers. The ones who were found there every night and knew everyone and their father. They were the first ones to ask what Rose was doing there.
“Does your father know?” He tilted up his hat.
Rose shook her head, “And I hope he doesn’t find out.”
The man chuckled and went back to who he was talking to originally. James felt a wave of anxiety go through him. Afraid of what that conversation would lead to for him.
“He’s not gonna tell him, right?” James asked while he paid for their beers.
“You better hope he doesn’t. You’re already in trouble.”
Her wink told him that she was more of the trouble than her dad. Even if he knew the more trouble he got into with her meant only more from her dad.
He didn’t let that stop them from dancing though. It was a honky-tonk band. It was hot and sweaty in the middle of the room. He knew that. But he didn’t know when he lost the button down he was wearing over his t-shirt. He didn’t care. She was so focused on him that he had no choice but to return it.
They were close. A lot closer than they’ve been when they danced at parties. Her chest against his. Her hands running up and down his back. This time, there wasn’t one of her friends to pull her away because she was busted. Or one of his to tell him he better lay off or he was in deep shit. They did what they’d been waiting to do. And she knew the perfect way to do it.
He was on fire. Because that’s what she did to him. Made him red and wild. So, he was just about to finally kiss her when someone shoved him back from her.
James knew who that someone was. They saw each other when he walked into the bar. They both realized what could happen. James figured it would. They both had a reputation that was in due time for testing.
Jimmy Stone was older. He was probably what made Pete Tyler the protective father he is. Once again, if the rumors were true, no one could really shame him for acting the way he did. There was no question in what Jimmy was capable of, that was given to James. He was fit. He had to be for what he did. But he wasn’t much compared to Jimmy.
“Will you fuck off, Stone?” Rose shouted at him.
He shushed her, “This isn’t about you. Well, it doesn’t have to involve you.”
James took a step forward, “You can stop talkin’ to her like that.”
He saw the fist coming and he let it land. To prove he was just as tough as Jimmy. That’s what he would say tomorrow when he was at work. But right now, he would be stupid to say it didn’t hurt. He could feel the bruise forming when he stood back up straight. He felt the blood from his split lip run down his chin.
“You afraid to fight, pretty boy?”
If it were a movie, he’d probably pop his neck. But instead, he flicked the baseball hat off Jimmy’s head. Dodging the next punch, James managed a land to the middle of the other guy’s gut. But he took the one to his ribcage. Jimmy laughed when James took a step back and groaned.
There was a crowd around them now. He saw someone step out in the corner of his eye. Then felt Rose’s hand on his elbow but he shook it off. He wasn’t one to lose a fight without good reason.
“You ready to regret coming out tonight, Stone?”
He was cocky. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t fallen yet or that Rose was on his side. Then a surge of anger rushed through him. He wasn’t sure where exactly it came from but it slipped out of his mouth with the taste of blood. And the hardest swing he thinks he’s ever thrown.
The crowd around him gasped. Jimmy fell flat on his ass. James laughed, then he spotted the tooth on the ground and grabbed Rose’s hand. Taking off out of the bar.
As he slid into the driver’s side and started the truck, she slid over the hood. His heart started beating a little faster. When she jumped in, she landed in the middle seat- almost in his lap. That’s when he stopped breathing.
She gave him a kiss. One that he had been dreaming about for a while now. It was sloppy and deep and warm. It was probably a lot shorter than what it felt. Only stopping when they heard a commotion at the front door.
She slipped away from him with a breathy “Thank you.”
They tore out of the gravel parking lot. He didn’t try to speed on the way home. Wanting to keep her this close for as long as possible. But he got a glimpse of the time and worried about what would be waiting.
She reminded him that maybe it would be worth it. Distracting him with another kiss when he stopped at the first sign of the night. And then telling him to pull off the road just for a second. Which led to a little more than he expected.
He had a little more than one bruise now. The rest were a lot sweeter than the first. And his shirt was just as high on his stomach as hers. Hair probably is just as messy too. Though, he didn’t quite pull it off as well as her. Given she laughed at him when he pulled back.
“You’re a mess.” She laughed, running her thumb over his bottom lip. Focusing on the cut he got in the fight.
“Your fault,” He mumbled, leaning into her hand, “What else am I supposed to do?”
He tried to kiss her again, but she giggled against his lips. Giving him a chaste one before patting his thigh.
“Better get me home before my father decides you’re the next hide on the wall.”
He cursed under his breath. Moving back to his seat and putting the truck in drive. Trying to ignore the feeling of Rose’s hand in his hair and her humming. Those things would probably be the last thing he needed to be thinking about when pulling into her drive.
Which he was against. But she coaxed him into doing it by playing the right cards. The ones he fell sucker to almost every time, especially for her.
Pete Tyler was sitting in the driveway. James knew he was in for it by the look he got when he put it in park. Instead of flying out of the drive like any other person, he got out with Rose. Grabbing her hand.
Which was arguably the stupidest decision he made all night. Grabbing her hand in front of her father like this wasn’t doing anything for him. Pete just glared at him harder.
Rose gave him a reassuring squeeze. He hoped that her showing fondness for him would save him some skin. The instinct deep in him doubted it would.
Pete glanced down between them, “Did y’all have a good night?”
It wasn’t a pleasantry. But James treated it as one, “Yes sir.”
The two words came out as if he should’ve given them with a salute. He held back the impulse to do so sarcastically.
“You should’ve talked to me beforehand.” He said thickly.
James suddenly felt like he should’ve at least tried to sharpen up a bit. He felt a bit bare in his untucked shirt, messy hair, and jeans tucked into boots. He held his head high still. There wasn’t any use in putting it down at this point. He would rather be caught looking scared in front of Jimmy Stone.
Rose pulled her hand from his and walked over to her dad. He didn’t fall for her scheme like James, “Rose. Get inside.”
“Why should I?” She tested him, trying to hide her grin.
“It’s nearly 3 am, you still live in my house, and you might as well and go ahead and get your trouble with your mother over with.”
Rose sighed and took a few steps behind Pete but didn’t go inside. He didn’t take his eyes off James. He had the same challenging look that Rose did earlier. James understood what it meant to inherit looks in that moment. Even if they meant different things.
“Your daughter is amazing, sir. I was lucky to get to hang out with her tonight.”
“You sure are. Where’d you get that bruise?”
James struggled for his words, “Uh, Jimmy Stone.”
“Where’d you go to run into him and get that?”
“He’s worse,” That was his attempt in defending himself, “And I’m sure you’ve got another way to find out besides me.”
Pete laughed and shook his head. James let a small smile come to his face. This was the opposite way of doing things for a first date. You meet and talk with the parents first. Not after. He didn’t really mind. Nothing really came smoothly for him. And he liked it that way.
Especially because their conversation ended with a little less of a glare.
“I’ll let y’all say goodnight. But you better watch what you do, Smith.”
He nodded and Pete walked inside. Silhouette taking a stance by the window. Rose glanced back and tried to shoo it away. But eventually walked back towards him when it didn’t move an inch.
She took his hands, “I had fun tonight.”
“I hope so.” He felt awkward suddenly. Unsure of what could happen next.
“Sorry about Jimmy. And my dad.”
James shrugged, “I wouldn’t ask for anything else. Another great story to tell.”
“You wanna make another great story?”
He couldn’t get out his “What?” before she kissed him. Right there. In front of her dad in the window. Once again he felt like he was on fire. Every nerve in his body was ringing. He was careful to kiss her back, not that he wanted to be.
He was shaking slightly when she stood on her toes to whisper, “It’s okay, he likes you.”
James stood there for a second. Watching her skip back inside. Excited for whatever would come next.
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Just Say Yes (OwaMiki Week 2020 Day 2)
((Thank you so much OwaMiki Week for hosting this event! I’m super excited for this pairing!))
Summary: Mikan comes home from work tired and exhausted and sees a romantic set up waiting for her.
You can read under the cut or at my AO3
It was nothing that she ever experienced before. Mikan came back home from her day at the hospital with bone weary exhaustion seeping into her very core. Just taking her shoes off at the genkan and putting her purse on to the table next to it was more of a relief. Her shoulders felt just a bit lighter from carrying her purse, and her feet were able to breathe after being in her shoes for nearly thirty hours. She took her hair down from the tight bun that was up against her skull, her head throbbing from a small headache. She needed to drink some water, and eat something that wasn’t stuck in a microwave. Just thinking that, her nose caught a scent of food and her stomach growled pitfully as she looked into the apartment.
The living room was dim, save for a couple of candles that were on the table in front of the T.V. There was a vase in the middle of the small table. She also noticed that it was covered in a ruby red cloth. She tilted her head in confusion as she carefully walked over to the kitchen to see Mondo was at the stove.
It wasn’t an uncommon sight even though it was out of place depending on who knew him. Mondo was standing at the stove. He knew how to cook using fire and he was good at it, even if Mikan would prefer him to not do anything tricky like Teruteru. It was one thing for the Ultimate Chief. It was another entirely when her boyfriend didn’t have any sort of skill save for determination and stubbornness.
She went over to the fridge and cracked it open and blinked when she saw that there was a gift wrapped in bright ice blue wrapping paper. “Yo-you hid a gi-gift in the re-refridgorator?”
“Hey babe!” Mondo greeted enthusiastically. “Don’t worry about the gift the cold won’t hurt it. How was work?”
Just being reminded that she came home from absolute hell made her want to go back into the living room and put her feet up. She grabbed a bottle of water that was in the fridge, and noticed a note that was lying underneath it. She took that out with the bottle. “I-it was okay.” She said after a moment. “Wh-what’s with the n-note?”
“You can read that if you want to.” Mondo said, not even looking up from the stove. Mikan appreciated that. Last time he got distracted by her, it had been a disaster. “Go sit down babe, this’ll be done in a bit.”
“O-okay.” Mikan took the water bottle and the note, knowing very well that if she even tried to offer to help Mondo would tell her no and force her back into the living room anyway. She sat herself down at the table and smiled when she took note of the flowers. Daffodils, camelias, peonies. She wondered if it was from all the late work hours that she was pulling as of late.
Mikan would never ever feel guilty for helping people, and Mondo refused to let her even think that way too. However, she knew that she was missing a lot leaving him home alone and sometimes for days. Yet Mondo not once told her that she should leave her job, or even tried to get her to spend a day with him. If anything, he pushed her to go, pushed her to continue to do what she did best, and if anything he liked to brag about her accomplishments in her field.
She never thought anyone would ever...do that. As an Ultimate, her talent was just...there. She worked hard and got good at it for no other reason than survival. Mondo on the other hand saw that talent of hers and thought it was the best thing that she could have. He saw it in such a different light than she did, it made her only work harder to prove to him that his faith in her wasn’t in vain.
She looked at the note that was lying near her harmlessly and she thought about the gift in the fridge that she left behind. It was such a weird place to put something like that. She wondered if it was supposed to be enjoyed cold. She didn’t usually have much use for things unless it was replenishing her first aid kit, or something they both could use around the house. Everyone in their friend group knew that there were never enough bandages in their apartment due to someone always getting hurt when they were out on the job.
Mikan took the note and with trembling fingertips she carefully unfolded the paper. She found it amusing that it was stationary paper, and it had pictures of bandages and a nurses hat and a thermator all scattered about on the border. His writing was short and to the point.
Happy Birthday, Babe.
Don’t forget to take care of yourself. The food should be easy to heat up.
Oh. He wrote this just in case she didn’t make it home. Then the lightbulb flicked on and she looked at the flowers and then the note and then over at him in the kitchen. It was her birthday?! She had been so busy, it was completely out of her mind! No wonder everything looked nice. He was hoping that she’d come by but he was completely prepared for her to not be able to come home. She pursed her lips together as she carefully tucked the note back into its fold. Now she understood why it was underneath the water bottle. It would be the very first thing she’d go after when she came home.
Mondo came back with the plates of food and her stomach growled helplessly at the presentation. They both tucked into the dinner, Mikan trying to eat as slowly as possible to savor every nuance of the food. There really was no telling when she’d be able to sit down and have a proper meal with the chaos that was happening at the hospital. She just felt bad for the nurse that had to take over her shift. It was a terrible time, and while all hands were needed on deck, no one was good if they overworked themselves to exhaustion. Even if society and economic pressure demanded it of them.
“Th-thank you for the flowers.” Mikan finally broke the silence between them. “A-and for dinner.”
“Any time babe. I’m glad you like the flowers. That was...I wasn’t sure exactly what to fucking do.” Mondo admitted. “I had Taka help me.”
“T-taka? Of all people?” It wasn’t that she doubted Taka’s keen eye if anything she was more concerned about having two loud personalities in the flourist shop. “Wh-why?”
“It was more or less a man to man thing. You get it.” Mondo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s good at letting me know when I’m doin’ somethin’ stupid. Or going overboard. If anything, the bastard thought this was tame.”
“T-tame?” Mikan stared at Mondo. “Wh-what were you act-actually planning on do-doing?!” She could already see how well it would go down if he thought taking her to a bar would be a good idea. Mondo didn’t drink necessarily, but there were times he would partake with his ex-gang. They all adored him and wanted nothing but the best for him. His leadership left a legacy that no one could touch, even when he decided to change careers. Hope’s Peak Academy had hoped that he would continue on, but both Mikan and Mondo agreed that the softer side of things was more their style.
It wasn’t like Mondo completely abandoned the motorcycle. He was just under strict orders to not wind up in the hospital.
“Nothin’ like you’re thinkin’. Promise.” Mondo assured. “I know you don’t like to ride.”
“No-not when you de-decide to go f-fast.” Mikan clasped her hands together. She saw enough aftermath of wrecks to know what kind of damage Mondo could go through and those were enough nightmares that kept her worrying when she did come home to an empty apartment and knowing that he was with his gang somewhere.
Mondo gave her a soft look, “I ain’t gonna get myself hurt. You don’t need to worry yourself too much over it.”
“I c-can’t help that.” Mikan laughed and Mondo shook his head. She learned a long time ago that she had to tame that worry back. He wasn’t going to change too much from the reckless boy she met in high school. All she could do was be there for him however she could. They both had their freedoms. It wasn’t like either of them were willing to tie each other down. Even if there were occassions Mikan wondered and fretted if she was too much, too overwhelming, if she was liked...if she was loved.
Mondo never ever made her doubt it though. Her brain would tease the thought, but he would perish it. “Imma get your gift. Sit tight.” He told her as he grabbed their empty plates and he headed back to the fridge.
She still had to wonder what was up with the hiding place. It was such a small box too. Was it a type of chocolate? She didn’t mind sweets too much, but if it was, then it wasn’t something she could easily share. If Mondo went out of his way to make sure that she couldn’t split it in half with her, then she was going to have to remind herself to do the same for his birthday.
Much to her surprise however, he came back with two plated cupcakes and the gift. “You di-didn’t.” Mikan stared.
“A birthday deserves a cake. I got you strawberry. You prefer those, right?” Mondo asked as he sat back. “I don’t really get the whole “sweet” thing, but...I know that if I didn’t get one myself you’d tear that in half and fucking force me to eat it.”
“I do-don’t for-force you!” Mikan tried to defend. “I sh-share there is a diff-difference.”
Mondo grinned and her cheeks tinted a bright pink. “Pretty sure you tried to stuff it in my mouth and got icin’ all over my damn face.”
“Yo-you moved!” Mikan protested, laughing through her words. “I as-asked you!”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Mondo rolled his eyes, but the easy fondness was still there. He gently pushed the small box over towards her and she blinked at the gift. “Open it.” He told her.
“I-it’s very small.” Mikan felt foolish for even saying that aloud. She could hear Mondo scoff and she grinned as she slowly peeled the wrapping paper away from the box, knowing that the suspense was going to murder him.
She could feel the table jig as his knee kept hitting the top. He was impatiently waiting for her to get through the paper, but she liked the suspense that she was giving. It was a little fun to tease. Admittedly, she was just as curious to the gift as he was to see her reaction. She finally pulled the fully intact wrapping paper away and stared.
It was a ring box.
Her heart thudded loud enough that she was certain it was going to go out of her chest. She looked up at Mondo, whose knee only jiggled harder as he looked away from her. A red tint to his cheeks.
She cracked open the box.
“Marry me.” Mondo said gruffly.
“I said fuckin’ marry me.” Mondo looked at Mikan and she felt her eyes widen in surprise. “I’m really no fuckin’ good at this shit. I don’t know how to be sappy. I can’t write you a love poem or...tell you how much you fuckin’ mean to me. You’re not scared of me. We have a good thing goin’ just…”
“Marry you.” Mikan finished his sentence, without a stammar in sight. He nodded and they both looked at each other in the eye. She looked down at the ring box and she smiled warmly as she reached into it and took it out, putting it on her finger. “Th-then I guess I do-don’t have a ch-choice.”
“Of course you have a fuc-”
She leaned over the table, mindful of where the candles were and she pressed a kiss against his lips. “No I don't.” She said as she pulled away. “I love you.”
“Goddamn it babe..” Mondo reached and gently tugged her back down to his lips, kissing her back.
She may have come home exhausted, but nothing was going to compare to the restless night he would give her for this.
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Everywhere You Go [Dean Winchester] p1
Summary: The Winchester family (extended and non) gather together at the Bunker for the last few weeks of December to celebrate Christmas together.
Theme: It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas (Shayan Ravanassa Cover-SoundCloud)
Note: In this series, there are fireplaces in every bedroom of the bunker AND in the main rooms that everyone goes in, like the great room that the Winchesters converted into a living room. All in all, the place is homey in certain aspects.
Note 2: Also, I know it’s only November, but I’m still writing this, haha. I have the entire series completed and tagged, so give me some feedback in if you want me to continue posting this or to wait until Christmas.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics.
“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas everywhere you go! Take a look at the five and ten, it's glistening once again with candy canes and silver lanes that glow...”
Dean walks into the room to the old radio playing soft Christmas music in the corner and his purring Omega girlfriend’s hips gently swinging as she sways to the music while putting up Christmas decorations. He smiles and leans against the doorframe, smile wide. This domestic bliss was something that he’d dreamed of for a while.
“Good morning, Dean!” Jack yawns as he enters the room, and Dean gives the young Beta a nod.
“G’mornin’. Have a good sleep?” Dean asks, and Jack nods excitedly.
“I used the hidden fireplace like Y/N taught me!” He exclaims, and Dean smiles fondly towards the nephilim, who spoke, of course, of the swinging fireplace that was present in every room.
Normally as pack Alpha, Dean would make sure everything was taken care of, but he knew that his Omega ran things the way she wanted-And who was he to tell her what to do? Besides, he liked the way she ran things.
“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, toys in every store! But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be on your own front door!”
“Do you really have to go?” Y/N whispers, and Dean nods sadly.
“Yeah...I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Garth needs our help with this.” The blonde man replies, and his girlfriend wilts. He feels really bad before she jumps excitedly.
“Oh my goodness, you can invite him and Bess and everyone in their pack house over here for Christmas!” She squeals, and Dean’s frown lifts into a grin as he laughs.
“Yeah, I think I can manage that, darlin’.” He rumbles, and the woman cheers. She spins him around and pushes him towards the door, but not before helping him into a coat and scarf and gloves, bundling him up.
“Go! Hurry! The Bunker should be decorated by the time you get back, and Rowena will be here too, maybe Jody, Donna, and the girls also. It all really depends on Jody and Donna’s hours at the station and Alex’s at the hospital.” Y/N says. “Be safe, I love you!”
She pecks his cheek and he smiles brightly before climbing into the Impala. He glances at his brother, best friend, mom, and kinda-son, who’re all grinning at him. He starts the car.
“Shut up.” He grumbles.
“We didn’t say anything.” Castiel says, grinning still.
“You were thinkin’ it.”
“A pair of hop-a-long boots and a pistol that shoots is the wish of Barney and Ben. Dolls that'll talk and will go for a walk is the hope of Janice and Jen, and Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again!”
A car pulls up to the bunker and a woman who is completely bundled up in coats, mittens, a hat, and fluffy boots hops out, jumping from the cold air. She runs through the snow to the door and knocks on it quickly. There are quick footsteps as it’s opened and the woman runs inside.
Taking off her hat, gloves, and coat, Rowena smiles at the warmth inside the bunker. She can hear multiple fireplaces crackling. Her friend takes her things and hangs them up.
“Oh, it’s so warm in here!” The ginger practically whines, though her red tinted lips are stretched wide in a smile. Y/N laughs.
“I like to keep it toasty.” The other Omega giggles, and the red headed one’s smile widens.
“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go! There's a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well. It's the sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow...”
Jody, Donna, and the girls arrive a few days later. Dean, Sam, Mary, Castiel, and Jack are still gone, and Rowena and Y/N had almost finished decorating the entire bunker, they just couldn’t get the giant tree all by themselves.
“Oh, it’s great to see you!” Jody exclaims, dropping he r bags and hugging Y/N tight. Claire throws her coat at the coat rack, drops her bags, and throws herself into a chair at the War Table before starting to spin.
“Claire!” Jody says sternly, readying herself for scold the omega girl, but Y/N steps in.
“No! It’s fine.” The woman says warmly, pulling all eyes in her direction. “I do it all the time-don’t tell the boys!”
This gets a little giggle from Claire, and Jody hasn’t heard the girl laugh in any way in so long that she lets everything slide.
“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Soon the bells will start, and the thing that will make 'em ring is the carol that you sing right within your heart!”
The omegas all grunted as they pulled and pushed in the extremely tall tree that would be in the War Room; it was very heavy, so it was kind of difficult to move even with five people. Still, they manage to set it up with a bunch of screaming from everyone involved; if the Alphas of the Bunker had been home, they’d have thrown a bitch fit as their protective instincts went haywire. Then again, if they’d been home, the omegas currently finagling with the Christmas tree wouldn’t be.
Y/N definitely planned on guilting Dean into waiting on her when he got home, then having sex.
After securing the tree, everyone grabbed a bunch of decorations and began putting them on the tree carefully seeing as many were very much breakable. Claire dropped one, but Rowena caught it due to quick reflexes.
“Thank you!” The blonde says instinctively before freezing. Rowena hadn’t really talked to anyone but Y/N. Would her talking to her piss her off?
“No problem, lass.” The ginger replies simply, hanging up a pretty red and gold Christmas bauble. Jody raises her eyebrows but continues decorating. After around an hour, they’re all done and move on to wrapping presents in separate rooms (at the request of the younger omegas).
While the girls leave for the room that they will share, the elder omegas sit together in the kitchen and wrap gifts. Rowena and Jody chuckle at how most people got two gifts, but Dean got three. The pretty omega looks up.
“What?” She asks, and they both shake their heads, Jody shrugging.
While they do this, Omega Mary, Beta Jack, and Alphas Sam, Dean, and Castiel have finished up their hunt and are currently perusing shelves of items for gifts for the people that will be at the bunker. Garth, Bess, and Reverend Jim had all happily agreed to join their Christmas gathering; normally it was just the three of them.
Everyone else had already finished their shopping and were waiting for Dean, whose arms were filled with all sorts of different things. They all watched with amusement as the alpha paused and looked over what he had. Wrinkling his nose, he puts a knick-knack back on the shelf where he’d gotten it from in favor of drifting to the jewelry cabinet that was locked tight. His eyes lock on a silver and diamond necklace. A worker sidles over.
“That is a diamond and white gold necklace. I’m afraid that it’s very expensive, especially for someone of your status.” The beta man says snidely. The Alpha in Dean bristles, but he says nothing and chooses instead to walk over to a cashier. Placing all six of his choices on the cabinet, he pulls out a gold card to buy everything that he’d selected for his girlfriend alone (which rang in at about 2,700 dollars). The card went through and the jewelry salesman’s eyes widened in surprise. As Dean walked out with bags on one arm, the man stuttered his apologies. Dean ignored him.
They’re on the way home, everyone asleep aside from Castiel, who’s in the backseat.
“You spoil her.” He says playfully, referring to Dean’s omega girlfriend. The blonde man rolls his eyes, Sri I NC carefully through the snow that was falling heavily.
“Oh, shut up Cas.” He mutters. The angel laughs and stretches the best he can from the middle seat, squashed between a beta and omega.
“Dean, you bought her over a hundred dollars worth of candles from that candle shop that had the big stand-”
“It’s called Bath And Body Works, and she likes to burn the Noir candles in our bathroom and she likes the Graphite ones during sex.” Dean says defensively, trying to make the angel uncomfortable so he’ll leave him alone. It doesn’t work.
“You bought her pajamas for over 400 dollars.” Castiel says.
“She likes the feel of silk!” Dean argues.
“And all the underwear?”
“She doesn’t mind when I buy her lingerie, she told me so.” Dean pouts. Castiel raises an eyebrow.
“Seriously?” He deadpans.
“Yes!” The blonde Alpha replies, the scent of an annoyed and uncomfortable alpha permeating the air working the Impala. Castiel gives a submissive nod and backs down, not wanting to overstep.
Dean’s still thinking over his conversation with his best friend when he pulls into the garage. Rowena’s car is there, as well as Jody’s van. He knew that he spoiled his girlfriend, but he had money to spare with the credit card scams. He just wanted her to be happy and comfortable!
Deep down, he knew that she wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t but her fancy things (they’d had this conversation before), but he wanted to. She let him, and they coexisted as per usual. Breathing in deeply and unloading all of the bags of his and the boxes of gifts he’d gotten for everyone as Bess’s sedan (driven by Garth) pulls into the garage as well, he slips in and is in awe at all of the decorations. His eyes rake across the room and stop on the large tree that stands proud in the corner, blocking the door to the morgue.
He places his gifts underneath and creeps through the halls, quietly going into the bedroom he shared with his omega, noting that the bed was empty. Quickly showering, he goes to Rowena’s bedroom, where he knew that she was asleep because the woman hated sleeping alone. Gently picking her up, Rowena immediately wakes up and is about to hex Dean before she sees who it is and lets him carry on with taking his omega.
He places her down on their bed and overs her up with the many blankets she had on it before lifting them for just a second to slip under. He spoons her and she purrs in her sleep-or so he thought.
“You’re home.” She murmurs, and he murrs to calm her back into a sleepy, safe state. She relaxes into him again and he deeply inhaled her scent, his entire body going limp. He kept his nose buried in the crook of her neck, taking deep, steady breaths. He drifts off to sleep easily, content now that his omega was in his arms.
“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Toys in every store! But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be on your own front door!”
The next morning, the duo get up and begin making breakfast for everyone currently in the bunker after a lengthy sex marathon and a long, steamy shower. While Dean is frying up about three pounds of bacon, Donna arrives and Y/N lets her in.
“Oh, I’m super excited to finally be here!” The blonde omega squeals. “I’ve been drivin’ for what seems like days!”
“I’d bet, with all that snow and ice!” Dean calls, tossing his response over his shoulder from his place at the stove. He grabs a spatula and helps his girlfriend with her scrambled eggs, stirring them.
After Donna arrives, the others wake one at a time and new people arrive, making themselves nice and cozy in the bunker while eating plates filled with good food that the Pack Alpha (Dean) and Lead Omega (Y/N) had made just that morning.
All were ready to celebrate Christmas and would excitedly remain in the bunker for the next couple of weeks, eager to relax and enjoy something so mundane as the holidays.
“Sure it's Christmas, once more....”
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i call this one “i projected on elmer in the middle of the night but it turned out cheesy and cute”
trigger warning: cold, insecurities, anxiety
“Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…”
Elmer cursed under his breath, curling his fist around his pay for the day. Twenty cents. That was barely enough to buy the morning papers.
January was a rough month for every newsie, and the cold weather was hitting them hard. Romeo and Smalls were both down with the flu, and even Jack hadn’t been selling more than sixty papers a day with the slow business and terrible headlines. No one wanted to be out in a blizzard to buy a stupid headline like Flu Season to Come Early, but that just meant kids were out longer trying to sell it.
Elmer was no exception to the slow business. He wouldn’t call himself a great seller in the first place, and it wasn’t helping that his regulars were hiding behind closed doors to wait out the storm.
His teeth were chattering as he shoved his money back in his bag. He rubbed his hands on his thin trousers, trying in vain to bring feeling back to his numb, trembling fingers. He could barely curl them into fists, and if someone tried to mug him and his unimpressive twenty cents, he wouldn’t last long.
He sighed, breath visible in the air in front of him. The sun was quickly lowering in the sky, casting the city in shadows. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have much time until he’d be surrounded by darkness, and he didn’t have enough to pay the lodging fee. Hell, he didn’t have enough to afford a meal.
He took a helpless look at the alley he was standing in, contemplating his choices. There weren’t that many. Technically… it wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept outside in the cold. And with the Refuge shut down and Snyder behind bars, if the cops saw a homeless kid sleeping in the snow, there wasn’t much they could do about it. Worst case scenario, they might haul him to an orphanage, and that was easier to escape than the Refuge.
There was barely any light left in the sky, and the wind was blowing harsher, stinging his cheeks and cracking his lips. Elmer was cold. He didn’t want to be standing out in an alley, hugging himself to preserve the trickles of warmth left in his body. He wanted to go home.
No one’s gonna come lookin’, anyway. It’s not like anyone will miss you. There’s kids that deserve those beds more, and everyone knows it. Stop complaining.
Rubbing his eyes and biting back a rush of tears, he slid down the cold brick wall and fell to his knees in the snow. He fished his leftover papers out of his bag. It was too late to sell them back to the distribution gates, and he doubted Weasel would take them when he’d dropped the bundle in the snow three times today.
Tucking the papers under his head and pulling his hat over his face, he curled up in the back corner of the alley, squeezing his eyes shut and willing sleep to come.
He was cold. He was numb. He wanted to go home, but the devil on his shoulder was louder than the raging winds in his ears. It’s not home if no one cares that you’re gone.
“Hey. Hey, kid.”
Elmer opened his eyes sluggishly, lifting his head from his arms to face the cold wind biting his ears. His lips were cracked and dry, fingers numb and teeth chattering. There were crescent-shaped marks in his sleeves from gripping his arms so tightly, trying to preserve warmth in the little ball he’d curled in to protect himself.
It was too dark to see, but there was a hand on his chest and another in his hair, and Elmer had one guess to who it was.
He coughed and cleared his throat, looking up with bleary, red eyes until they adjusted to the night sky and he could see the worried creases in Jack’s forehead.
Jack rolled his eyes and sat back on his heels, unconcerned with the snow beneath his feet. “Hey, yourself. Wanna tell me what you’re doin’ out here?” He jerked his head down the road “The lodge is that way, idiot. You’ve only been sleepin’ there every night for two years.”
Elmer glanced towards the mouth of the alley half-heartedly, remembering blearily that he was sitting in a bank of snow. Duane Street was at least four blocks away. He wondered what Jack was doing out so late; the moon was hanging in the sky, and it had to be almost midnight.
“I know,” he said, too exhausted to keep his eyes open, let alone form more than a simple sentence. He slid his eyes shut again and nestled his head in the crook of his arms. “Didn’t have enough to pay rent.”
“We would’ve spotted you some money,” Jack said, hurt in his voice. Elmer didn’t understand why, but he had a sinking feeling it was his fault.
“‘M sorry,” he said carefully, refusing to lift his head or meet Jack’s eyes. He could feel the disappointment and dread coming off in waves, and the farther he was from its source, the better. “I didn’t think anyone would care, an’ it’s just one night on the streets. Race sleeps on a bench in Central Park all the time.”
“Race is sleepin’ on…?” Jack cut himself off, visibly deciding to pick his battles. “Listen, dumbass, we would’ve sure as fuck cared that you were sleepin’ in an alley during a damn blizzard.” He waved a hand at the raging storm beyond the safety of the alley, where Elmer was pretty confident in saying he hadn’t seen the worst of it. The fire escape hanging above his head gave him refuge from the loud winds, and he wasn’t that cold. Just… a little bit numb.
“No one’s sleepin’ outside tonight,” Jack continued. “Kloppman’s puttin’ two or three kids in a bed just so they don’t have to be out and catch the flu or somethin’. Besides, you’re gonna get your ass taken to an orphanage or some shit if you keep this up. You’re annoyin’, but we ain’t that sick of you.”
Elmer stayed silent and stared at his boots between his knees, trembling slightly.
“Elmer, you’re really stupid and you can’t sell a bad headline to save your life,” Jack nudged Elmer’s chin with a finger to get him to look up, “but even you should’ve known we’d care if we found you dead behind a dumpster tomorrow.”
Elmer sniffed, which was definitely from the weather, absolutely positive, one hundred percent. “Didn’t want you to think I couldn’t sell, either,” he admitted. “Remember when Crutchie had a nightmare that you ditched him ‘cause of his limp? I… I was really cold and upset and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ that…”
“For God’s sake,” Jack muttered. He opened his arms and dragged Elmer closer, raking a hand through his frost-bitten hair. “We’re family, you idiot. We’re all doin’ this shit together, and we don’t pick and choose kids. Otherwise, we would’ve thrown Race out a long time ago.”
Elmer laughed, cheeks stinging as his smile widened. “You’re dumb.”
“You too,” Jack said dryly. He stood up and bent over, slinging Elmer over his shoulder before he knew what was happening. Which was kind of ruining Elmer’s tough guy vibe, to be honest.
“I can walk,” he protested.
“But you won’t, if we’re bein’ real,” Jack said, pulling his collar over his mouth as he ducked out of the alley to face the New York streets. “I’m gonna guess you ain’t been eatin’, either, so I’d rather have a whiny kid that one passin’ out on the sidewalk.”
Elmer opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t really have a good argument for that, even when he was hanging upside down over Jack’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He decided to settle on a corny joke, which he was better at.
“Talk about whiny. It’s midnight and we’re four blocks out from the lodge, just so you could beg me to sleep inside, you big sap.”
“Watch it, or I’m dumpin’ you back in the snow.”
They spent the rest of the trip in comfortable silence, struggling to be heard over the wind blowing harshly in their ears. When Jack threw the lodging house door open and dumped Elmer on his feet, they were met with resounding looks of relief and joy from the newsies that had stayed up to wait. Albert ruffled his hair and Crutchie hugged him tightly. As Race threw a rough arm around him and tugged him upstairs to the bunk rooms, Elmer caught Jack out of the corner of his eye, putting a dime on Kloppman’s desk for his rent.
Elmer grinned, warmth encasing his heart for the first time all night. It wasn’t because of the roof over his head or the blanket Race wrapped around his shoulders, but because of Jack’s pocket change and Race’s worried eyes and Albert’s smile and Crutchie’s embrace. He’d get teased for the life of him if he ever admitted it out loud, but maybe that’s what made his heart warmer, what made it all worth it when he was finally home.
@booksbroadwayandbagels @tis-my-cigar @harrynerd-blog @seizetheimagines @juliet-the-smol @got-the-east-side @i-got-personality @internalscreaming012 @voice-foundshoe-lost @capncrutch @thatfancyclam @jjjudeshitposts @orphan-with-a-stutter @disney-princess-sized @perpetualbedheadspier @bexlynne @we-dont-sell-papes @the-woild-is-my-what-now @you-thinks-wrong-romeo @pitiful-ambitions @purplelittlepup @imjusttheoutgoingsidekick @damn-too-many-fandoms @savory-n-sweet @thedolanspineapple @racescoronas @awwwwwwdang @bencookisagod @carryingthedaveyjacobs @disasterbisexualhere @maiawakening @racetrackcook @aw-jus-let-em-try @suddenly-im-respecsable @the-dance-boi @jessmuell25 @intoomanyfandomstopickaname @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @marcusisaprettygay @tomscaprisun @seasickdolphin @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @papesdontsellthemselves @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @findmeintheafterglow
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Of Outlaws and Family
Chapter Four: Operation O’Driscoll, Kieran; Mission Saving Sean
A/N: This is probably one of my favorite chapters, if only for little Jack! He’s so precious and I love writing the four year old!
Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence, lots of drinking (mainly by Sean), sexual references/innuendos, jealous people
Start here: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620167374619951104/of-outlaws-and-family-chapter-one-new-beginnings
Last Chapter: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620252632456495104/of-outlaws-and-family
Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!
My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.
Word Count: 5,909
“Whatcha got there, Jack?”
“A toy Aunt Scarlet got for me.”
“She did? Well that was sweet of her. When did she get that? Did you thank her?”
“She got it a couple weeks ago, when she and Uncle Arthur got that new horse. I said thank you,” Jack replies, pausing in pushing the wooden train through the mud. He smiles brightly up at his mother. She motions for him to get up and he does so.
“Good boy. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We are going to help Mr. Pearson make lunch,” Abigail ushers her son over to the wash bin. Since the duo returned, Abigail took notice of the time they spent together. When Arthur went out, be it to hunt or otherwise, Scarlet went. She wasn’t sure if he asked her to ride or if Scarlet asked if she could, but whatever the case, she was glad that Scarlet seemed to be making Arthur happy. It was nice to see him smile again, and he’d done more smiling in the past couple months, since she’d been there, than Abigail's seen in a long time.
“James?” Scarlet calls as she walks back into camp from dropping a hay bale by the trees behind Pearson’s wagon for the horses. She dusts the stray hay from her front and pauses at the wash bin, smiling as Abigail and Jack approach.“Hey, Little Jack, Abigail.”
“You didn’t tell me you got Jack a toy,” Abigail’s tone is curious, warmth in her voice. Scarlet rubs the back of her neck sheepishly and nervously chuckles
“I guess it slipped my mind. I was at the store anyway to get the tailored clothes for him and saw it and couldn’t help myself,” she admits, hands moving to rest in her back pockets. Abigail nods and lifts Jack so he can wash the mud from his arms.
“Well thank you. It’s not everyday someone else gets him something, and it’s not often we can get him stuff either,” she replies as she sets her son back on his feet. Jack smiles up at Scarlet, showing her his clean toy before Abigail herds him to the front of the wagon.
Scarlet chuckles and shakes her head as she heads over to the barrel to splash water on her face. Arthur drops off a sack of provisions when they hear a whimper. They both turn to the sound, looking at Kieran, the O’Driscoll Arthur caught from up in the mountains. He told her that story one night around the campfire, along with how he and Javier had to go save John, again apparently.
“C’mon, Mister. I ain’t washed in weeks. Please! Talk to them….to Dutch!” He pleads, eyes shifting from Arthur then to Scarlet in hopes of getting her help. They share a glance and step closer to him.
“Why don’t you start talkin, O’Driscoll?” Scarlet huffs out, arms crossing over her chest as she looks at him. Arthur joins her, adding his own verbal assault.
“Whoah, hold your horses! It seems the cat has our friend here’s tongue. I was thinkin Mister Williamson could have a word,” Dutch claps his hands as he strolls over, dressed up in is black pants, red vest, and black longcoat.. Scarlet steps back and closer to Arthur’s side to give them some room.
“What do you want from me?!” Kieran all but cries, shaking against the tree.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know!”
“What do you want me to do, Dutch?” Dutch’s eye twitches at Bill’s question.
“Hurt him!” He barks, gesturing to the tied man.
“Hey, Dutch, why don’t we geld him? If he doesn't wanna talk, make him, right?” Scarlet pipes up, locking eyes for a split second with the leader before dropping her gaze. Dutch grins wickedly, nodding to Bill.
“I like that. Geld him!”
Bill’s eyes seem to shine at the mention of this kind of torture and he quickly runs off to get the gelding shears from the fire. Dutch turns to the other three, nodding as Kieran’s voice cracks as he cries protests. Scarlet glares hard at the tied up O’Driscoll, a bit upset Dutch won’t let her do anything to hurt him. Ok, his exact words were ‘not yet, patience’, but still. She watches as Dutch and Arthur yank down the poor bastard’s pants and underwear, leaving his lower half bare.
“Now, you’re gonna talk. The question is, before or after this boys are gone,” Dutch chuckles darkly.
“Please no! God, why!”
“Oh hush, Boy! They’re just balls!” Dutch sneers. Bill is nearly skipping as he comes back over with the red-tipped shears, hot from the fire. He crouches and snips them open and closed a few times in front of Kieran, leaning forward a little but not quite enough to actually cut him, but still too close for comfort.
“Okay! I know where Colm is! He’s-he’s at Six Point Cabin! Just up behind Valentine! I-I-I can take you there!” Kieran cries, shaking and sobbing, back slumped against the tree.
“I got this, Dutch. Let’s go,” Arthur takes charge, shoving Kieran toward the horses after cutting him loose. Scarlet looks at Dutch, a silent question if she was allowed to go. He tips his chin to her and she waves as she dashes to her horse, Arthur and the others already in the treeline.
“Arthur!” She calls as she kicks her horse. The blood bay nickers and happily runs to catch up with Smoke, slowing to match his trot as they reach them. “I’m comin too.”
“Why don’t you stay back? We don’t need no woman gettin in our way,” Bill grumbles from Brown Jack. She shoots him a glare as she focuses back on Arthur.
“He’s got a point. There might be a lot of O’Driscolls here, and Colm. You ready for that?” He addresses, turning in his saddle to look at her. She chews her lower lip and nods.
“You act like I didn’t kill seven men by mys-”
“And that was you protecting your son, not men,” John calls back from his place at the front of the diamond formation they’re making. She rolls her eyes.
“You are my men, dumbass. I’m a part of the gang too, s’only fair I help where I can. I’m a decent shot, bow or gun. My parents made sure of that. Look, Dutch said I could come along,” she crossly spits out at John’s comment. Arthur nods at her words; he knows she’s right.
“Alright, fine. But if I tell you to move, you move. If I say to get back to the horses-”
“I go back to the horses. Got it,” she finishes for him. Arthur raises a brow at her, for cutting him off she assumes, and reaches over to smack her hat down over her eyes. Bill scowls at what he considers her blatant lack of respect.
“How dare you disrespect Arthur. He’s the lead in this mission,” he raves and tries to move up in the formation to be beside her and her horse. Her thoroughbred snorts, flattens his ears, and turns to nip at Brown Jack as he does so, forcing him to drop back again.
“No disrespect, he surely knew that. I won’t disrespect a man,” she declares, though she knows she’s done so on occasion, but Bill doesn’t need to know that she reasons with herself.
“You’re disrespectin me!” He hollers.
“You’re not a man. Just cause you’re male and an adult doesn’t mean you’re a man. Men, real men, know how to treat women. No one belongs to you; you don’t own anyone. I am my own person and I am free to do as I please, with whom I please, whenever I please, where I please,” she growls back to him, face hard as she fixes her hat.
“See those hills? Head for ‘em,” Kieran points to the hills ahead.
“Save your horses, Boys, we got a climb ahead of us,” John says over his shoulder. He glances back and sighs. “And Lady.”
“I ain’t a lady, far from it,” Scarlet mutters just loud enough for Arthur to hear. He scoffs and nods a yes to that, knowing full well she can take care of herself better than most ‘ladies’. They leave their horses in a clearing and walk to the top of the hill, surveying the cabin. Scarlet pulls out her binoculars and shakes her head at the number of them. She puts them away and turns to Arthur as John and Bill point out the trio of O’Driscolls coming back. John grabs Kieran and holds a gun to him, hand covering his mouth. The poor man keeps his hands raised in surrender as Scarlet and Bill look to Arthur for their next move.
“Scarlet, go take that one out. We’ll follow and take out the next two,” Arthur orders, pointing to the man relieving himself on a tree. Scarlet tosses one of her tomahawks and catches it before sneaking down the hill and using tree trunks as cover until she’s close enough to throw it at the guy.The force of her throw makes the tomahawk stick into the tree, pinning the now dead O’Driscoll to it. She goes to retrieve it as she sees the other three move up, John saying something about leaving Kieran at the top of the hill. She watches Arthur and Bill take out the next two, with throwing knives and tomahawks. They move up and Arthur sends John to deal with the guy on the log in front of them.
“What now, Arthur?” She asks, peering over the log to try and see how many are left. He gets similar questions from Bill and John.
“Just wait. I’m gonna go scope out the other side of the camp,” he shushes them and moves around, back into the trees to their right. The trio watch as he takes out two with his bow before someone yells. They all switch to their guns and move to better positions, firing at the O’Driscolls.
Scarlet separates from John and Bill and tries to make her way over to Arthur. She takes out a guy trying to sneak up behind him. He turns at the cry of pain from behind him, and gives her a quick, thankful nod. More O’Driscolls come out of the trees and the four are forced to back away from the cabin to drive them back. The last few start running but Scarlet pops two off with her revolver, aiming for the third. She hears Arthur telling Bill he’s checking the cabin and she fires at the last runner. He falls and she smirks, blowing the smoke from the end of her gun and opening it to drop the bullet casings, reloading it.
She whips around at the sound of Arthur’s yell, runnin back around to the front of the cabin. Her mind takes a split second to process the scene and she’s aiming her gun. A shot rings out and she stares at Kieran, eyes a little wide at the man. Arthur shoves the dead man off him and enters the cabin, gun up. He comes out seething, pointing his gun at Kieran.
“You set us up!” He roars, walking quickly towards the man. Bill and John block Kieran’s path as they walk up like two brick walls behind him, Arthur backing the scared man up almost into the other two.
“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t! He was here!” Kieran holsters the pistol he’s grabbed and backs up. Bill and John watch the scene play out; Scarlet crosses her arms after shoving her revolver into her thigh holster, scanning the camp. She shakes her head, catching the end of their conversation. “...there’s always money in the chimney.”
“Tell Dutch that old Kieran ain’t got a need to be shot, yet,” he calls as Bill, John, and Kieran head to the horses. She whistles and Fancy and Smoke round the cabin, both braying softly to her. She instructs them to wait and follows Arthur inside. He’s got his hand up the chimney and she smirks.
“Shouldn’t be that hard to find,” she teases and looks over the mess. Her nose scrunches as the smell of alcohol hits her full force. She sticks her tongue out and walks to the table with cards tossed about. “Hey, there’s five money clips here,” she picks them up, counting the exact amount.
“Bring that too. Loot anything you can, the others should have gotten the bodies and then we’ll get out of here before the law comes,” he says, waving to the cabin with his hand not buried in the chimney. She chuckles at him and nods, searching for anything and everything. He joins her in her search once he’s gotten the money, waving the stack at her.
“Six hundred dollars, not bad,” he shrugs and puts the majority of it away. He holds out a stack to her.
“What’s this for?” She asks, not accepting the money. He rolls his eyes and pulls her close, stuffing the money in her pouch.
“For sticking here with me even though you could be caught, for starters,” he sasses. She laughs and nods, fixing her pouch and re-clipping the metal clasp. “And for saving my ass.”
“It’s nice, gotta save it,” she jokes quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear it. He turns to her, looks as though he’s going to say something but thinks better, and shakes his head as he turns around to finish searching the cabin. “Hey, grab that gun on the mantle. What is that?”
“Huh, double barrel,” Arthur muses as he pulls it from its rack. He looks it over, flipping it and aiming it, before putting it on his back. “Nice new gun. You ready?”
“Yeah, let’s leave before the law shows up,” she concurs, doing a last once over of the cabin to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything. They exit the cabin and mount up, turning their horses to follow the trail that leads from the cabin back to Valentine.
They stop in at the saloon, Scarlet getting a bowl of oatmeal while Arthur sips a beer. The two talk about their pasts and what they’ve done, where they’ve been until they decide it’s time to get back to camp.
Scarlet stretches as she sits up from the sleeping bag. She glances to her right to see her son still sleeping soundly; the blanket of night still resides over the land. With a sigh, she quietly lifts herself to her feet and makes her way to the back of camp, sitting on the grass covered rock edge.
She doesn’t know how long she’s sitting alone before the hair on the back of her neck stands up. She turns and lets her eyes adjust to the slightly brighter place behind her, thanks to the campfire. The shadowed figure starts towards her again and joins her. She smiles and nods her head to the valley below them as Arthur sits beside her. They rest in silence for awhile, neither needing to speak.
Scarlet doesn’t remember falling asleep again, or even getting tired, but she doesn’t complain when the first rays of the sun wake her by shining bright in her face. She and Arthur must have fallen asleep at some point during their late night talk. She finds herself with her head tucked under his chin, curled up facing him with his arm draped over her waist. His hat’s over his eyes, preventing the sun from attacking him; she tries to move slowly so she won’t wake him, but once she removes his arm he starts to stir.
“Shh, go back to sleep if you need it. Thank you for stayin up and talkin with me last night,” she murmurs in his ear and presses a chaste kiss to his scruffy cheek, bumping his hat. Arthur removes his hat and gently grabs her hand, holding it on the grass. He sits up and nods, eyes searching hers.
“Not a problem. Why were you up that late anyway?” His voice is thick with sleep, his eyes tired. She sighs and shrugs, feeling a slight burn across her cheeks as they flush slightly.
“No clue. Just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep,” she admits, looking back over the valley as they had the night before. She sighs and sits up, knees to her chest. Arthur pushes himself up, sitting with his legs sprawled out in front of him.
“Has it happened before?”
“The waking up at odd hours and not bein able to go back to sleep thing.”
“Sometimes. It’s not often, or not as often since I’ve had James,” she explains. They watch as deer and rabbits run from passing riders on the trail, each in their own thoughts.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I know you don’t always sleep the best either. It’s easier to deal with when it’s just me worrying.”
“You got us now, though. You ain’t gotta be by yourself. We’re a family,” he tries to reason with her. She nods and leans back on her palms, eyes downcast.
“I know….I know. It’s just different. Going from not having anyone but my son and the O’Driscolls to worry about, to having a whole gang of people that I now fondly care for. Some more than others. Bill’s a bit much sometimes but I think his heart’s in the right place with bein here an standin behind Dutch. The girls are somethin else too, that’s for sure. An Dutch, well, Dutch is...different. He’s not like Colm or the other gang leaders. He actually seems to care about y’all and your safety. The others don’t give a shit bout losing men or nothing. S’long as they have money and food for themselves they don’t care what happens to their people.”
“Good to know I’m liked. I was hoping to make a good impression on you. We could use more guns and hunters.” Dutch walks up, startling them both. They push away from the other, cheeks tinted red as they don’t meet Dutch’s gaze. Arthur clears his throat and gets to his feet, offering Scarlet a hand. She accepts it and he pulls her up.
“It’s a different kinda family that I’m tryna get used too,” she still won’t meet his eye but Dutch just smiles. He pats her shoulder.
“Don’t worry. As long as you’re one of us, you have a safe place here. Arthur here’s supposed to go meet Javier, Charles, and Trelawny down by Blackwater. One of our guys, Sean, is being held by a big group of bounty hunters. I want him to go help get him back. Why don’t you ride with him and go meet Trelawny and Sean?”
“Uhh, sure. Yeah, yeah I can do that. I ain’t doing nothing else today. Lemme get changed and saddle Shamrock and I’ll be ready,” she quickly agrees, anything to get out from under Dutch’s watchful gaze. She hurries over to her wagon and digs through it for a change of clothes. Dutch turns to Arthur.
“Take her and introduce her to them. They need to know she’s with us too. Try and get him back as soon as possible. It’ll be a win if we can get Sean back with us,” he orders and heads back to his tent. Arthur sighs and goes to change his clothes and shave before they head out.
Arthur meets Scarlet by the hitching post. She’s talking with Hosea about something and they both look up as he approaches.
“Speak of the Devil,” Hoses teases and looks between them, knowing something was starting. He claps them both on the shoulder and climbs on Silver Dollar, nodding to Scarlet as he heads out.
“What was that about?” Arthur asks as they saddle up. Scarlet shrugs and laughs, petting Shamrock.
“We were just talkin bout how he saw us sleepin by the edge of camp this mornin and asked me bout it and what happened. Told him you found me awake and we just sat in silence before talking a little then passing out at some point. He said he didn’t believe that but he let it go,” she gives Shamrock a small kick and he starts for the path to lead them to the road. Smoke follows, keeping to Shamrock’s left. Arthur just nods, not really knowing how to tell her he had been woken by a nightmare of his own son and his son’s mother.
“So who is this Trelawny and Sean? Dutch seemed a little adamant I meet them. They important?”
“Sean? No, him not so much. He’s just one of the ones been with us awhile. When we left Blackwater, he got caught. We thought he was dead. Guess Trelawny found out that wasn’t the case. Trelawny, he’s...well, he’s not here with us. He comes and goes. I’m not sure why Dutch allows it, but he does. He helps us with information about other gangs and situations like now. He’s a scout I guess you could say.”
“Then why did he seem so eager for me to meet them?”
“Well Trelawny is good about picking up things; rumors, details, and the like about places or people and he knows which of us is best suited for the job. I reckon that’s why Dutch wants you two to meet. Sean, well, probably just so that damn Irishman has someone to talk to,” Arthur guesses and leans forward in his saddle, checking to see if he has all his guns. “You have guns and a knife?”
“Acourse. I have my Cattleman’s and my hunting knife.”
“Ever shoot a rifle?”
“Yes. Arthur, why would I need a rifle?”
“Here, take this,” he passes over his hunting rifle with a scope, “we might need a sniper.”
“Arthur, just what are we going to do?” Scarlet takes the gun and slips it over her shoulders, the gun resting diagonally across her back.
“Like I said, Sean was captured. We’re going to get him back from the bounty hunters. Don’t worry, we’ll have Javier and Charles with us,” he attempts to reassure her. She rolls her eyes but loosens her hold on Shamrock’s reins.
“Lead the way then. We can keep up if you wanna push hard,” she gestures to the road with her left hand, letting it hang loose at her side as they pick up their pace to a run.
“Would one of yous cut me down?!” Sean grouches from the tree he’s tied in, his face as red as his hair. Scarlet catches the knife Arthur tosses her, walking up to the Irishman. “Now, Lassie, who ar-” his question gets cut off as Scarlet cuts the rope holding him and he falls on his back, the breath being knocked from his lungs. She laughs and tosses Arthur his knife back, whistling for their horses. The four gallop up and stop in front of their respective owners as Sean gets to his feet once Arthur cuts the rope on his ankles.
“Yanno, you look a lot less ugly from teh ot’er angle, Art’ur!”
“Names Scarlet O’Hara. Nice to meet you, Sean,” she introduces as she pets Boaz and Taima. They both nicker and push against her hand, sniffing for a snack.
“Sean Macguire, at yer pleasure,” he responds, smiling wide and faux bows. She laughs and rolls her eyes as she holds the horses for Javier and Charles.
“You give these two some love when you get back,” she instructs and scratches their noses, earning playful nibbles from both horses. Shamrock lifts his lips and tosses his head as though laughing. Both men agree and Javier holds a hand down to Sean at Arthur’s command.
“You guys get back to camp. We’re gonna have a look around, see if we find anything worthwhile,” Arthur suggests as Scarlet waves to them and starts looting the bounty hunters of their valuables.
“Nothing but a few watches and a couple dollars off these few,” she calls to him, dropping the guy she just looted. Arthur nods and crouches over another one to search his pockets.
“About the same here. Check the tents, see if they have any medical or lock boxes,” he says, finishing up the last few bodies. She hums and sways to a lullaby in her head, digging through the belongings on the wagons and by the tents. She pops open a medical box and takes the ‘miracle cure’ from it, holding it up to Arthur for inspection. He nods and she stuffs it in her pouch as she moves on. Their horses watch them, pawing at the ground as they wait.
“Alright, I think that about does it,” Scarlet huffs, putting the last of the food she found in Shamrock’s saddle bag. “Got some canned fruit and some canned corn,” she adds as she leads Smoke over to Arthur. He thanks her and they mount up, pointing their horses for camp.
When they get there, everyone is rejoicing. There’s four cases of alcohol, two whisky and two beer, that’s set around camp for them to grab from. Scarlet grabs the food from her bags and takes them to Pearson’s wagon, leaving them on his table for later. There’s stew, thanks to the deer Arthur hunted a few days ago, and music. Arthur leads her over to the campfire where Sean has stumbled to, sitting on one of the boxes they use as a stool. Scarlet giggles as he sways, wondering how much everyone’s already had to drink. She makes a note to keep track of her count, restricting herself to one for now, two at most.
Abigail spots her and pulls her aside, letting her know that the boys are already in bed, asleep. Scarlet thanks her and they talk for a few minutes until they hear different music. Scarlet follows it to Dutch’s tent, where said man is dancing with Molly. Scarlet smiles bright and watches, arms crossed as Dutch twirls Molly, both smiling. Mary-Beth stands by her, fawning over the couple as well. She turns when someone catches her eye and Scarlet turns at the question.
“Dance with me, Mr. Morgan?”
“Ahh, I’m not much of a dancer, Mary-Beth,” he holds his hands up in apology. She pouts and nods to the duo already dancing.
“He taught you a little, right? Please, Arthur?”
“Yeah, alright,” he concedes and sets his whiskey bottle down. Scarlet clenches her jaw, giving them a smile and nod when they pass. She watches them from the side, trying to comprehend the steps by watching only.Abigail and John soon join them, followed by Susan and Uncle. Karen and Sean also join them, both stumbling in their inebriated state. Scarlet holds in a laugh at the drunken two and watches as they all spin and sway to Dutch’s music.
“Miss Scarlet, w-w-would you like to dance? You’re staring at them an awful lot,” Kieran shyly asks, stepping up to her. She blushes, casting her eyes to the ground.
“Oh, no I-I dunno how to dance, Kieran. I’m sorry, thank you though, hun,” she manages to squeak out, eyes going back to Dutch spinning Molly.
“Well, would ya like ta’ learn?” Sean asks as he appears by Kieran, bottle of whiskey in hand. Karen’s dancing with Javier now. Scarlet looks between the two men and nods slightly.
“If you think you can teach me,” she replies, fiddling with her own whisky bottle. Sean beams and drops his empty bottle, reaching for her hands. She barely has time to pass her half full bottle to Kieran before the red head is tugging her into the small clearing the others are dancing in. He shows her where she’s supposed to put her hands, one on his shoulder and the other in his own, as his other hand moves to her hip. Scarlet hesitantly obeys and takes his hand, her other gingerly placed on his shoulder. He pulls her with him as he takes a step back, steadying her as she stumbles.
“One foot atta time, Lassie,” he speaks over the music and cheers of the others. He steps forward with the same foot and Scarlet is a little more sure-footed. He continues the pattern; one step back then the same foot forward towards her. Once she has that down, he adds two more. This time one back, to the original spot, then forward and back to the original spot again. It takes a couple tries but soon she has the rhythm and they’re stepping in pace with the others. “Wanna try some flare, Lass?”
“Uhh, sure?” She isn’t sure but Sean’s been too sweet to say no to, so she agrees. Before she realizes what’s happening, Sean has spun her from his hand and Charles takes his place. She lets out a giggle as they pick the rhythm back up and he spins her, pulling her back to him.
“It’s not so hard once you learn the steps. It’s just a lot of repetition,” Charles encourages her, taking both her hands in his. “Bring your hands out,” he moves their hands so their arms are spread in front of each other, “and then you twist with this, still holding my hand,” he instructs as he twists her as such, her back to his chest with her arms crossed in front of her, still holding his hands. “Now spin the opposite way to face me again.”
She does as requested and they both grin widely. Charles spins her again, to the side this time and Uncle catches her from her spin, steadying her and bringing her back to the rhythm once more. He repeats Sean’s pace, slow and just the same four steps; back, original, forward, original, for a few minutes before showing her how to add to each side; making a total of eight steps, without flare.
They practice for a little while before he lets her spin to Javier. Javier shows her how to change the rhythm and add in her own flare. He makes sure she has the original -that Sean showed her- down before taking it the extra step. He has her smiling and giggling as he twirls and spins her. Arthur watches from the corner of his vision, jaw set as he tries to focus on just doing the basic steps with Mary-Beth. Javier passes Scarlet to Bill, who sends her spinning to Karen after their dance.
Karen and Scarlet dance for a bit, mostly swaying as they talk in hushed whispers. Karen lets Sadie dance with Scarlet when Sean asks her to dance again. The two females smile at each other as they dance. Scarlet misses the glare Arthur shoots all of the others, they just smirk and shrug, Sean mouthing something to him before Arthur turns back to Mary-Beth.
In the last two and a half months Scarlet’s been with the Van der Linde gang, she and Sadie are most definitely the closest. They’d bond over the mutual hate for the O’Driscolls and share their experiences; Scarlet often consoling Sadie when her emotions about her husband overwhelm her.
They sway side to side with their arms wrapped around the other, whispering to each other; about how Sadie misses dancing, about how she’d always be willing to dance with and teach Scarlet. Scarlet in turn tells her that she’s always loved watching people dance, but the only thing she knows how to do is one of the few line dances people made up back home. She offers to teach Sadie one day.
Sadie prompts Scarlet and they dance back in the first steps Sean taught before Dutch takes Scarlet’s free hand when Sadie spins her out from her. Sadie huffs slightly and glares playfully at the well dressed man, who winks at them, but she takes Javier’s offered hand.
“Well hello, Mr. Van der Linde. We were just talking about how we love this fine little group you have here,” she laughs as Dutch spins her out then back into his chest as Charles had, swaying for a moment before spinning her back so they’re facing one another again.
“That so? Well I’m glad you’re happy here. I know it’s not what you’re used to, seeing as you had your own homestead, but we’ve got each other,” he replies as they dance. She nods and tilts her head up at him.
“Different isn’t always bad, be it thoughts or decisions. Sometimes havin ‘nother perspective helps sort out issues or possible conflict,” she assures him, sliding her hand down his chest to fix his lapel. “Different can be good.”
Dutch just nods as he shows her new steps. He makes sure she has them down before instructing her how to add certain flares and where they should go. He helps teach her to time them right, catching her when she stumbles. He chuckles and she can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest as he helps put her back on her feet.“Think you’re ready for a dip?”
“A what?” Panic flashes across her eyes as his words process. She squeezes his hand and shakes her head no as he spins her out again. He smiles and lets go of her hand. Scarlet feels a pair of warm arms steady and turn her before her gaze meets Arthur’s. They share a smile as he takes her hand and rests the other on her hip.
“Thought they’s gon’ hog you all night,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She giggles and nods, resting her hand on the nape of his neck instead of his shoulder.
“Sure felt like it. I’m just glad Dutch didn’t dip me. I might’ve fell. I am getting dizzy from all the spinnin. And the alcohol,” she admits.
“Well, lucky you then. I’m not much of a dancer. I won’t spin you,” he assures her. They’re content with just swaying to the music, both oblivious to the gaggle of onlookers they’ve grown.
Neither are sure when, or who did it first, but they realize that they’re close together, chests pressing against one another. Arthur slips his hand from her hip around her back, letting his other one follow suit, holding his left wrist in his right hand, locking her in place. She’s got her arms wrapped around his neck as they sway to the slowly fading music.
“Alright everyone! Come on, back up this way!” Dutch calls. The duo look up from each other; Arthur smiles as he takes her hands and spins her once, before dipping her as the music finally fades out. He pulls her back to her feet and they start intently at one another before Scarlet clears her throat and thanks him, giving his cheek a quick peck. He squeezes her hand, reluctantly letting go as they head back to the main campfire.
“Now that we have Sean back, we can focus on getting money and finding a way back out west, but for now, rest up and enjoy the night. We can start again in the morning,” he announces and dismisses everyone; Arthur and Scarlet heading for their wagons. They bid each other goodnight and Scarlet hugs him. He pats her back and let’s her go when she pulls away. She kisses his cheek and thanks him again for dancing with her and he waves her off, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
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Dream a Little Dream of Me
A/N: Hello! I decided to participate in @cake-writes 3.5k followers writing challenge. I decided to torture myself and rip my own heart out writing this Night Before War Bucky x Reader fic. Thank’s cake! Find the whole challenge here.
“Tomorrow?” You questioned flatly, voice steeling itself in an attempt at toughness. It was futile, but still you tried.
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Bucky affirmed, still standing in the doorway of your mother’s kitchen. Feet planed to linoleum tile, unmoving. He fidgeted with his new uniform, hands running over the brass belt buckle around his waist. Fingers fiddling with the pocket flaps.
“But you just got back.” You whispered into the open space, apron still tied neatly around your waist. Pineapple upside down cake forgotten. You stared at your red lacquered nails, looked at the sparkling engagement ring Bucky had placed on your fourth finger, left hand, six months ago. Before he went to Camp McCoy all the way in Wisconsin, while you stayed in New York. Having moved back home to help your mother to offset the loss of your brother joining the Pacific War.
You heard the sound of Bucky’s footsteps walk across the kitchen tile, his army grade shoes making him seem ever the Sergeant he was now. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you could see his fingers lace themselves together over your floral apron. You stared at his tan covered arms, equal parts anger and grief flooding your senses, along with the smell of spiced rum and sandalwood, the smell of Bucky. He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel yourself shaking, trying to hold back unshed tears, trying to be strong. For him.
“Shhh, baby doll it’s okay, let it out. I’m here.” He cooed, pressing loving kisses into your hair and pressing his front further into your back. You let yourself wrack with sob after sob, his comment lingering in your mind. ‘I’m here’, your quiet reply lay dormant in the back of your mind, ‘but not for much longer’.
“How ‘bout we do somethin’ tonight? Hm? Make it special.” Bucky suggested, turning you around in his arms. You gasped as you saw his full uniform for the first time. Broad shoulders fit snugly inside a tan jacket, shirt lapels pressed and straight, cream colored tie perfectly tucked into his jacket, golden buttons shined with care, and his hat. Cocked perfectly on his head, hiding his beautifully slicked back hair. You ran your hands up and down his chest, appreciating his new Army muscles. Your hands wound their way around his waist, and you took in a deep breath, tilting your head up to meet his sparkling blue eyes. The same ones that you fell in love with. You knew you could do this, had to, for him.
“What did you have in mind soldier?” You questioned shyly, tugging your victory red bottom lip between pearly white teeth. Batting your painted black eyelashes at him. His lips curled up in a mischievous smile.
“Nothin’ honest if you keep that up sugar.” He teased, brushing his fingertips against your head as a brushed a finger curled piece of hair out of your eye, you shuddered. It was the most contact you had with your fiance in six months. He toyed with your hair more, loving the soft feel between his fingers, “I was thinkin’ we could go see that Stark Expo tonight. Just you, me, and Stevie, for old times sake.”
You could feel tears sting the corner of your eyes again at the mention of old times. The thought of you, Bucky, and Steve wandering Brooklyn on a hot summer day, ice cream cones in hand, came to mind. Your chocolate cone had long since gone but remnants lingered on the corners of your mouth. Bucky had swiped them with his thumb and then pressed a kiss to your lips. Filling your mouth with the sweet taste of strawberry. If you concentrated hard enough you could still feel the sun in your hair, hear the sounds of the city. But that was before the war came. Before the events of Pearl Harbor had plunged your life into chaos.
“I’d like that.” You whispered, shaking the memory from your mind.
“Pick you up at six?” Bucky questioned, gentle hands cupping your face, like you would shatter if he weren’t gentle. He didn’t need to worry about that. You shattered the second your brother left for Japan, and again when Bucky left for Wisconsin, and finally, you would soon shatter once more, when you kissed Bucky goodbye on the docks.
“It’s a date.” You responded, suddenly feeling much too small next to his frame. He kissed you atop your head before quietly retreating out of your kitchen, leaving you with an unopened jar of canned pineapple and the ghost of his body pressed against yours.
You fussed with the white flowers that sat on the top of your bun. Fastened them into your updo, near the nape of your neck. Was it too much? Not enough?
“Stop fussin’ sweet pea, he’ll love it.” Your mother called, walking into the room with a tube of lipstick in her hand. She handed you the little brass tube of Maybelline and you worked on painting your lips with the ruby color. You could feel your eyes turning glassy, watery.
“I can’t do this mama.” You whispered to her reflection in the mirror. Catching your face in your hands. You felt her hand rub soft patterns on your back, coaxing you into a calm state.
“Honey, look at me.” She commanded, softly but sternly nonetheless. You turned in your chair to see her kneeling next to you. Her graying hair was pulled back into a navy blue bandana and her work slacks grazed the floor. The workforce looked good on her, you thought to yourself. “Do you love him?”
You felt your hands grasp for hers, like they did when you were little. She gave them a reassuring squeeze, signifying that it was okay to speak your mind.
“I love him so much.” You breathed, choking on your words.
“Then you have to do this, for him. He’s leaving tomorrow and he wants one last night with you. He deserves that much. He’s gonna be gone for a long while, fightin’ a war that ain’t his to fight. While he’s gone, he’s gonna think of you. Of comin’ home to you. Now you gotta do your job so he can do his job, can you do that?” Her steely question cut through your grief and rang in your ears. You sat up, ramrod straight and faced the mirror again. James Buchanan Barnes was counting on you and you would be damned if you let him down.
“I can do that mama.” You said, finishing up your lipstick and pressing it back into her palm. You stood up and put your stocking clad feet into a pair of black pumps. You looked in the mirror and pressed down the red polka-dotted frock again, smoothing out the crinkles in the fabric. You wore this for him, to show support, to be patriotic. You grabbed your black purse when the doorbell rang out through the hallway.
“I’ll get that.” Your mom announced, bounding down the hallway and giving you one last slice of alone time. You heard the front door open and greetings passed around as your mother welcomed Steve and Bucky into your house. Flashbulb memories came to mind clear as day, the boys banging on your door at all hours, not caring who they woke up, just to see you. The three of you going to art classes together, or making a Saturday of going to the movies. Your breath caught in your throat at the thought of those days being over. You knew things could never go back to how they were. You were broken from your reviere by Steve walking into your room.
“Hey Stevie.” You said, plastering on your perfect fake smile and walking towards him, giving him a hug.
“Ya know, you don’t have to pretend around me. It’s okay.” Steve comforted. You slumped against his body and let yourself be held by him for a moment. After today it would just be the two of you, you were all each other had.
“I’m scared Steve.” You whispered, afraid saying it too loud would shatter the illusion you worked so hard to craft for Bucky’s sake.
“I know, me too.” Steve replied, gentle hands rubbing your back.
“Woah, Steve I haven’t even left yet and you’re tryina make a pass at my girl.” Bucky joked from his spot in the doorway. At the sound of his voice you broke out of Steve’s arms, feeling guilty. This was something you should be confiding in Bucky about, but you couldn’t. Couldn’t bring yourself to put that on him, when he was already going through so much.
“Hi Buck.” You greeted.
“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky responded warmly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his body, “you ready?”
The Stark Expo was more than you expected. Howard Stark showed up in the flesh and he was almost as handsome as his pictures made him out to be. Bucky caught you sneaking glances at him from under your eyelashes. His arm around your shoulders gave you a squeeze as he brought his lips down to your ear.
“You see somethin’ you like?” His Brooklyn drawl teased, hot breath tickling your ear.
“No sir.” You teased back, “Only got eyes for you.” You said as you rested a hand on his chest and searched for his tie. You grinned when you found it, winding your fingers around the fabric and yanking it so that Bucky’s lips were in line with your own. You pressed a heated kiss to his lips, showing him just how serious you were. Bucky let out something that was a mixture of a chuckle and a groan from the back of his throat and it was intoxicating. Your hands wound their way around his neck and his found purchase around your hips, using the red fabric of your dress to bring you closer still. From behind your closed eyelids you could make out a warm glowing light hitting you.
“If you two lovebirds are rather done with one another, I would like to get on with the demonstration.” Howard Stark’s voice came over the microphone. You gasped as your lips hastily detached themselves from Bucky’s. You bit your lip coyly as Stark’s gaze lingered on you two. “You can show the soldier a good time later.” He jested to the crowd, “Anyway…”
After that kerfuffle the three of you made your way to the back of the expo, following Steve towards another exhibit. When you reached your destination your heart caught in your throat, breath hitched. Staring you in the face were facts all about the war. The brave men being shipped overseas to fight the good fight. You felt tears well in your eyes and you excused yourself from Bucky’s warm embrace, knowing you would have to go without it soon enough.
“Shit,” you heard Bucky mutter under his breath, “Darlin’ I’m sorry, I’m comin’” He shouted after you. You walked around until you found a bench and perched yourself down on it. From your small black purse you produced a handkerchief and dabbed furiously at the tears which were now flowing freely from your eyes. You heard Bucky calling your name, his shouts getting more desperate the more he searched for you. You raised your ring hand and waved the kerchief in the air, hoping he would recognize the glint of your diamond in the artificial light of the lamps. You saw Bucky kneel down in front of you, could make out the shape of his hat when he took your hands in his, your eyes never leaving your lap.
“Baby I’m sorry.” He apologized softly, “look at me.” You looked up and his crystal blue eyes searched yours.
“I’ve got a surprise for you my sweet girl. Been waitin’ all night.”
“What is it?” You let out between gasps, forcing air back into your burning lungs.
“If it told, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He chided, winking at you and flashing you his million dollar smile. No wonder you were hopelessly in love with him, how could you not be? When he looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.
Under the haze of a streetlight, somewhere close to your neighborhood, Bucky and Steve stopped dead in their tracks.
“Steve, if you wouldn’t mind.” Bucky stated calmly, with a smile ghosting his lips. From Steve’s pocket he pulled out a yellow bandana. He smiled at you before handing the fabric to Bucky.
“Steve, Bucky, what’s happening?” You questioned, placing your hands on your hips. The fabric of your dress feeling a little warm from your moist palms.
“All part of the surprise doll.” Bucky admonished lightly as he walked around behind you and placed the blindfold on your eyes. With deft fingers he tied it in a sure knot behind your head, making sure not to disturb your flowers.
“James Barnes if you don’t tell me wh-” You started to demand before Bucky cut you off with a finger pressed gently against your lips.
“Just follow my lead, I promise you’re in good hands.” He reassured as he grabbed both of your hands in his. He let his thumb run over the rock on your fourth finger and you shivered at the contact. You let yourself breathe a deep sigh, trusting Bucky completely. For what you assumed to be the next two blocks the only sounds were the soft clacking of feet and the occasional car rumbling past.
Bucky broke the silence when he spoke, “Now you’re comin’ up on some steps so be careful.” He warned as you felt your foot hit the first step. You cautiously stepped up with Bucky as he praised you with words of encouragement. You could hear Steve open a door, squeaking by the hinges. Your heeled shoes changed sounds as you walked inside. No longer the dull click of cement but now the sharp echo of marble was under your feet. The area smelled clean, like lemons and bleach. Your heels rang out in what you assumed to be an empty hallway. You heard Bucky quietly ask Steve to open the next door. Bucky walked you through the threshold.
“See you in a minute.” He whispered into your ear before he gave your hand a squeeze and left your side. You felt cool air replace Bucky’s warmth and missed him instantly. You could feel Steve guide you to a certain spot before his fingers untied the knot and your blindfold came off.
You felt yourself take in a gasp of air as you looked at your surroundings. You were in a courthouse, you knew that much. At the end of the hallway was a man in a dark black robe. A judge maybe? But it didn’t make sense. Standing next to him, beaming at you like you were the sun itself, was Bucky. What in the world was going on? You craned your head when you felt something being placed into your hands. It was a simple white bouquet. Flowers? What? You heard a giggle from the other side of the room and whipped your head to see your mother standing in her Sunday best.
“Mama?” You questioned, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Why don’t you ask the groom?” She replied, smile plastered on her face. Wait, did she just say groom? You turned back to look at Bucky once again.
“How could I leave without making it official? Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes tonight? Before I leave?” He whispered the last part like it was a sin, like saying it would break the spell. You felt soft tears roll down your face, but these weren’t the ones you had been shedding since this morning. No, these ones were happy.
“Yes.” You whispered, clutching the bouquet tighter to your chest. “Steve?” You questioned, looking around for the blond.
“Yeah?” He whispered back, appearing at your side in an instant.
“Would you, ya know...give me away?” You asked sheepishly.
“It would be my honor.” He replied, proudly offering you his arm. You walked down the proverbial isle where Steve left you with a kiss on the cheek. Your eyes met Bucky’s and you could see them shimmer, tears threatening to spill over. Looking at you like you’d hung the moon, when really, that would always be him.
The ceremony was short and your mom decided to stay at the Steve’s that night so you and Bucky could have some alone time. You giggled as he carried you over the threshold, your first act together as husband and wife. You let your lips press against his lazily, loving the feel of your husbands mouth on your own. Husband. Bucky Barnes was your husband. And tomorrow you would have to watch as your husband was shipped off like some damn zoo animal to war. War. You couldn’t stop the salty tears that mingled with your kisses, couldn’t stop the sobs that shook your body as Bucky held you close, finally allowing the dam to collapse.
He gently placed you down on your feet and wrapped his arms around you, comforting you the best he could.
“What’s on your mind doll, tell me.” He pleaded softly, rocking you in his arms.
“To-tomorrow y-you leave. What if, what if you don’t co-come back to me.” You sobbed out, mind running a million miles a minute as hot tears invaded your post-marital bliss. This isn’t how you pictured your wedding night. You pictured a suite at a nice hotel, champagne sliding down your throat and a warm glow of lovemaking surrounding you. Instead all you felt was cold, and sad, and utterly alone, despite Bucky’s arms wrapped around you.
He left your side for a moment, to put a record on. He let the needle scratch across the surface and let the opening notes of a familiar melody bathe the room in sound before he reached an outstreched hand to you.
“I will always come back to you sweetheart, I promise.” He endeared, as you placed your hand in his and let him sweep you into his arms. “You know, we never did get to have our first dance.” He commented, rubbing his hand against the small of your back.
“Mm-mhm” You agreed, shaking your head into his broad chest. Sure your tears were dampening his uniform. That probably wasn’t Army appropriate.
Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you. Birds singing in the sycamore trees. Dream a little dream of me.
You let Bucky lead you in this swan song of a dance around your living room. Not bothering to turn on any lights, afraid of what they might reveal. Your tears, his sorrow, longing, regret, sadness, duty. Emotions too much to face right now, when you both seemed so fragile.
Say night-ie night and kiss me
You slowly unwound yourself from Bucky’s arms and with tentative hands took his uniform hat off, gently placing it on the coffee table. You ran your fingers through his slicked back hair and he sighed at your touch, purring like a kitten. Your bright red lips smiled before your raised yourself on your toes to kiss him. Hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. He sighed into your mouth as his arms wound around your waist. You felt his hot tongue plunge into your mouth, pouring everything he had in you. He was sorry, he would miss you, he loved you, he longed for you. Your tongue responded to each of his thoughts, it was okay, you would miss him more, you loved him so much, you longed for his return.
Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me
His hands found the front tie of your frock and hastily undid it. Your fingers worked their magic trying to unbutton his jacket and push it off his shoulders. Your dress pooled around your ankles and the cool breeze that hit your girdle made you gasp. Bucky’s mouth worked a hot trail on your jawline as his fingers deftly worked on the silver clasps of your undergarments. Kiss bruised lips reached your ear and huskily whispered one command, jump. You wrapped your legs around his strong torso as you tried your best to undo his tie. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice crooned sweetly into your ear, Louis Armstrong’s trumpet was your sirens song as Bucky and you make love for the first time as man and wife.
Star’s fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss I’m longing to linger ‘till dawn dear.
You lay with your head on Bucky’s chest. Hearing his steady heartbeat thrum under your ear, it’s the best lullaby you could ask for. He whispers sweet nothings into your hair, pressing kisses there, worshiping you. Needy hands caress your sensitive skin, setting your senses on fire. You kiss until your head is fuzzy and your body is spent. He holds you close as the two of you drift.
Sweet dreams ‘till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.
“I love you Bucky Barnes.” You whisper into the darkness, unsure if he’s awake or not.
“I love you too.” He responds thickly, voice hoarse. You both know what tomorrow will bring, both of you too scared to let go of tonight. You watch as pink light tickles your windows and makes way for glorious golden sunbeams. You don’t want tonight to end.
Sweet dreams ‘till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.
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i saw that new insta grayson uploaded where gray is wearing grey in a bathroom full of grey which made me think of the blue outfits and the blue car and it got me thinking:
1) wow this boy loves to match
2) imagine how much he’d love to match with his fave girl.
it’s late at night when your phone lights up on your bedside table signalling a text. you let your grin spread across your face when you see who’s interrupting your best efforts to fall to sleep.
baby gray ♡
what are you wearing tomorrow???
you snort a laugh, grabbing your phone and rolling onto your back so you can reply.
babe, the line is usually what are you wearing rn X
you give the charger cord a slight tug so you can get comfortable and press send. you can’t help the giggle that overcomes you as you think about your bizarro boyfriend laid in bed texting you about tomorrow’s outfit choice. for the life of you, you can’t work out his motive. your rub your hand over your eyes as your phone lights up on your chest.
baby gray ♡
baby gray ♡
was just wondering if you were thinkin those new black jeans or smthng else x
no clearer as to why your boyfriend’s texting you about this at this hour, you decide to be direct.
baby gray ♡
just don’t want you to be too hot or cold or whatever x
appreciate the concern babe but i’m a big girl - i think i’ll manage to find something to wear to breakfast all by myself. you’re so cute x
baby gray ♡
ok luv u xxxxxx
you reply with a quick ‘love you too, get some sleep’ and throw your phone back onto your bedside table when you see the read notification. you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, annoyed with yourself that you can’t quite get your head around what gray was trying to achieve there.
the boys have asked you to accompany them on a quick trip to colorado for a photoshoot and some snowboarding fun. the flight you’re all booked on is super early so you’ve all agreed to meet at the airport at 5:15 ready for your flight. by the time you’d snoozed your alarm three times and finally pulled yourself out of bed at 4:00, you’d literally thrown on the nearest outfit and run out of the door. at 5:30, you arrived at the airport to the small group of people waiting for you. you immediately accept gray’s hug, abandon your carry on case and snuggle into his side. you’re not good at early mornings and the soft smile on his face and how he kisses the top of your head gently is his way of showing that he knows this well. your eyes start to close at the feel of gray’s soft sweatshirt under your head until your hear ethan’s giggles behind you.
you feel grayson’s head lift off the top of yours and then hear a blunt, “what?” escape his lips.
“nah, nothin’. just wondering if you guys had planned this is all,” E replies, gesturing to you two whilst clearly taking pictures on his phone.
you look up with furrowed eyebrows and then glance at yourself and gray. oh. you mumble a quiet, “no, no. not planned. embarrassing though,” as you pull away and grab your carry on, huffing a laugh at how hilarious the others seemed to find this situation.
in your hurry the hour before, you’d pulled on light grey sweats and a light grey hoodie, throwing on the shoes that happened to be closest to the door. clearly, your boyfriend had done pretty much the same thing and had ended up in a matching grey hoodie and sweatpants.
noting your embarrassment, gray speaks: “clearly it’s not planned you ass hat - our shoes don’t match. we’re expert planners, do you think we’d have left that detail out?”
the group guffaws in laughter as you plant your face back into your boyfriend’s side. you all make your way through check in and security, meeting gray’s eyes when you have to take your shoes off and you see you’ve both chosen white vans socks.
your slight blush returns and he sends a wink in your direction with a mumbled, “we’ve just got impeccable taste, baby,” and then a swift, “fuck off, you’re just jealous you’re not part of our team,” in E’s direction when he too notices your additional match.
when you’re sat on the plane just before take off, you smile when gray insists on taking a pic of you both to document your outfits. when gray mutters quietly, “just in case you don’t let us match again,” just before he takes the pic, you get an idea.
it’s christmas eve back in the jersey dolan household. the house is packed with family and friends that want to join in the festivities and between eating your body weight in snacks and playing hundreds of different games with a whole range of cousins, you finally all settle down in the evening to watch a film.
you’re sandwiched on the couch between grayson and ethan, sharing popcorn but not really getting a look in as the boys eat it all so quickly. about half way through the film, gray starts fidgeting at the side of you. you ignore it at first, then when it continues, you shoot him an eyebrow raise as if to say, ‘what’s up?’ he starts to reply then when he gets shushed by the cousin sat on the floor at his feet, he leans across to whisper to you, “think i’ve eaten too much. my freakin’ jeans are so tight.”
you breathe out a laugh, careful not to disturb the avid film viewers. he joins in with you and then whispers, “think i’m gonna have to change,” he explains before making a move to get up. without thinking, you tug on his arm before he can get too far and say (not quite as quietly as you meant to), “hey, how about an early christmas present?” you blush again and shake your head as ethan and a few of gray’s uncles all hear you and shout a chorus of ayyys and “get it, gray!” across the room at you.
you’re quietly mortified as you jump up and say, “no! no! just… just come and see,” pulling on gray’s hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours and smacks the back of ethan’s head as he passes just for good measure.
as you reach his childhood bedroom, you let go of his hand and root in your suitcase to find a perfect wrapped present. “oh, you really meant an actual present then?” he cheekily says, winking at you when he sees the tell tale blush cover the tops of your cheeks. how he loves that blush. you roll your eyes and whisper, “c’mere,” and pat the space next to you on the bed. as soon as he’s sat down, you shove the gift into his hands and wrap your arms around yourself in sudden nervousness. was this a stupid idea?
your sudden worries left your mind pretty quickly as gray ripped the wrapping paper away and shot you a look of disbelief. “you didn’t…” he whispers around a huge grin. “did you actually…?” he asks as he holds up two pairs of matching red, plaid pjs.
“well, i kinda figured out that you like to match so i thought…” you started before you were tackled back on to the bed covers.
“this is the fuckin’ best present ever! they’ve got our initials on, too? these are dope! quick, get changed and put ‘em on!” he shouts and starts stripping off, groaning when he finally rids himself of the too tight jeans. when you’re both finally stood in your matching pjs, the look of pure joy on gray’s face melts your heart.
“i love you, i can’t believe you worked out how much i love matching with you. thank you so much for doing this for me,” he says sincerely, not quite able to wipe the excitement from his eyes.
“anything for you baby gray,” you smile. “what the fuck is the matching about anyway?” you ask bluntly with a cheeky grin on your face.
he groans and leans forward hide his face in your neck. you tap him twice on his temple and whisper, “come on, share the quirks,” reassuringly.
he looks up at you and sighs, accepting the fact he’s just going to have to be honest. “i dunno,” he starts to confess. “i’ve just always liked feeling like i’m a part of something. y’know, that team mentality. i’ve always looked like E so that automatically makes us a team but with you, i dunno, i just like that feeling that we’re on the same page, i guess.”
you smile gently at him, “like we belong to each other?” his shyness fades slowly as he begins nodding his head.
“yeah, exactly like that. and now everyone knows it ‘cause we’re the only ones in matching pjs. let’s go show them off and make them jealous,” he says, dragging you close to him and planting a soft kiss on your lips, then your cheeks, then your nose and finally your forehead.
“can’t wait to make you an official part of team dolan one day,” he whispers just before he yanks you out of his room to show off his girl and their matching outfits to his adoring family.
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