#like hiding food and towels in his room and blocking the door with furniture

[puhpandas]

You Stress Me Out

(4,135 words)

Gregory shows up at Evan's house during a storm with a wood carving knife stuck in his stomach. It may not be that bad of a wound, but that doesn't mean having a knife sticking out of you is any less scary. Or that Evan will freak out any less.

warnings: blood, mentions of a fistfight, an unsafe home environment, stitches, and of course, a blade being stuck inside flesh

Evans incredibly on edge right now. Which, nothing new here. But this time, it's less of his normal state and more of a genuine, rational kind of edge.

First off; a storm is on it's way. Not only does a storm mean that outside is a no-go, meaning that Evan is trapped inside his house with no way to leave, but hes absolutely terrified of thunder.

Which is why as soon as he'd heard about the bad weather, when his fathers back was turned and Michael had been focusing on something other than messing with him, he'd snuck to the kitchen, grabbed all the snacks and water he could need, and took them to his hidden stash in his bedroom.

This way, he didnt have to leave his room. And he could do his old trick of blocking the door leading from the shortest route to his room with his dresser, which could give him enough time to shut Michael out if he decides to persist on the other side.

Unlockable doors. The bane of Evan's existence.

The other reason hes on edge isnt because of himself, even though his body is locked up and sense, waiting for the thunder to start booming outside and send him flying off of his bed from how hard he flinches. Its because of Gregory.

Evan's brows furrow from his place on his bed, curtains drawn, but just open enough to see the rain start so he can brace himself. He takes one look at the gray clouds and white sky and frowns deeply.

Evan knows all about his friends... situation. Honestly, after being friends for almost a year, you'd think he would have known sooner, but nope. Evan had just been giving Gregory the benefit of the doubt too much. when Gregory'd refuse to let Evan go to his house, he'd assume he had parents like his, who he didnt want Gregory to have to see either, which was why he had been asking. When Gregory would have new bruises and cuts and rips in his clothing the next time Evan would see him, he would deliberately choose not to pry, or wonder, because he would think maybe it was worse than he thought.

But Evan had figured it out eventually, and he'd understood why Gregory kept it from him so long. Evan wouldnt want Gregory to see him differently for being a certain way.

But like Gregory, Evan had made it clear he didnt. He understands, really. Like he understands that with the knowledge comes the worry.

Evan knows Gregory doesnt always have stable shelter. The city and it's people arent so kind to homeless people like Gregory, even when hes outside and theres about to be a hurricane. Which is why Evan is hoping, wishing, praying that Gregory will come to Evan, this time.

It's why he's reading a book, sitting on his bed next to his window instead of on his phone like usual. Evan's on edge because he cant stop thinking about what would happen to Gregory if he didn't come, and if he does, will Evan hear him to let him in.

Evans room is on the ground floor, which makes it very easy for Gregory to come and go as he pleases (also for Evan to make an escape when he needs to. It's not rare for Evan to ditch his room to flee to the city with Cassidy, sometimes).

Evan's eyes trail over the words on the pages, but he isnt taking them in. He huffs, letting the book drop to his lap, and tries to ignore how cold-but-on-fire his stomach feels. He can't focus. Not when Gregory's supposed to trust Evan enough to come to him when he needs help and he hasnt yet.

Evan only waits a while longer, foot tapping on the side of his comforter and fingers drumming. When the first few thick drops of water land on his window, he goes for his phone.

Gregory said to never call him unless it's important. But right now, with how much Evan's stomach swims with nausea over uncertainty about Gregory's safety, Evan thinks this is important enough.

Evan only has enough time to enter his fifteen digit pin and tap the phone app before the sound hes been waiting for rings out by his window.

Evan can feel his shoulders drop when the familiar jingle of a Fazbear song is knocked on his window. He smiles, hurrying over to his window and almost ripping the curtains off the wall with how fast he opens them.

When Evan reaches to open the window, Gregory's there, if not a bit weary, if his half lidded eyes and the cut on his cheekbone are any indication, but Evan doesnt worry too much. Just unclicking the locks on his window and helping Gregory step inside when its apparent he needs help.

He has a hand clutching at his stomach, which is worrying, but Gregory looks like hes okay. Not about to die, which is what Evan's thoughts always end up going to, so he thinks that's a good thing.

Evan shuts the window and locks it just as the rain starts to drop harder, and he shuts the curtains, sending a glance at his door (the one not covered up with a dresser) out of paranoia. When his father doesnt burst in and send Gregory away like Evan's imagining, he turns his attention back to Gregory.

Hes huffing, like he cant catch his breath, which makes Evan furrow his brows. Gregory's bent over, like when you have a stomach cramp and try to curl in on yourself as much as possible. If Evan looks hard enough, he can see the inklings of bruises on Gregory's knuckles.

Evan frowns. Okay, probably a fight, but it wouldnt be the first time he would have to pull out the first aid kit.

"Gregory." Evan catches his attention. Gregory's eyes dart up to him, and he offers a shaky smile. "Hey. You had me worried sick."

"Me too." Gregory says, but it sounds strained. He still has that hand pressed firmly over a spot on his stomach, and when he looks pained, Evan guides him over to his bed, letting him sit down. "I know you don't like thunder and stuff. A-And you'd be stuck with Michael.

Evan crosses his arms, trying to look stern but coming off as incredibly worried instead. "Gregory. You're acting weird." He points out. "Listen, I know you're hurt. You know I've seen you get into fights before. Can you just tell me what's wrong?"

Gregory, suspiciously, looks away, focused on one of Evan's toys hes had since he was younger that he never bothered to put away. "Um. I-I dont think this is like those times, though."

Well. If Gregory can be this difficult, he cant be feeling too bad. Doesnt do anything for the anxiety digging a hole in Evan's stomach, though. "No matter what it is, you need help, okay? I wont judge. Just let me patch you up."

Gregory doesnt respond for a moment, then, "Promise not to freak out."

"What?"

"Promise not to wig out." Gregory meets his eyes, looking pained. "This is gonna make you freak. I know it. Just... try to stay calm. It's not that bad, I swear."

"Just show me already!" Evan presses, getting jittery from nerves. "You saying that is already making me freak out!"

"Okay! Jeez." Gregory huffs, and takes a deep breath. "Just dont look at it too hard."

"Gregory!" Evan yells.

"Okay, okay!" Gregory says placatingly. He doesnt say anything else, just takes his hand off of his stomach like ripping off a bandaid.

Evan's eyes blow wide, and his legs turn cold. "Oh my god."

"There it is." Gregory sighs.

"Gregory." Evan says, just above a whisper, because he cant manage anything louder at that moment. He stares at Gregory's stomach, feeling a pit in his own stomach when he cant tear his eyes away. "Gregory!"

"I told you you'd freak out." Gregory mutters, like he doesnt have a literal knife sticking out of his flesh.

"Why would I not freak out?!" Evan whisper yells, because wow he does not need his father or Michael to walk in right now. He gestures wildly, trying to put all of his emotions I into the single movement. "You have a knife in you!"

Despite what Gregory said not to do, Evan looks hard at it anyway. It isnt super deep; it's one of those really tiny pocket knives, like what you would use to carve wood with. He can still see some of the blade sticking out, which means the inch and a half long blade isnt plundged very deep.

"I know." Gregory says. "Can you help me get it out?"

Evan gapes. "Help you--" He giggles maniacally. "Gregory, if I pull it out, I'll have no clue how to make it so you wont bleed out."

"Well," Gregory glances away. "I cant really go to the hospital, and I cant just leave it in." He says. "You're my best bet. Besides, I promise it isnt that bad. It could have been way worse. I dont need a hospital."

Wow. No pressure, or anything. Evan implodes, shaking his hands out and doing laps around the room. "I'm gonna have to pull a knife out of you."

"Okay. Stay calm, remember?" Gregory repeats, and when Evan's facing Gregory's direction again after another lap, he can see him wincing. "Look, I know you're wigging out, but I really dont want this knife to me stuck inside me anymore."

"I would assume so!" Evan hisses, coming to a stop in the middle of his room and wringing his hands through his sweater sleeves. "Gregory--"

"Okay, listen." Gregory sounds strained, and Evan takes a moment to pause, worry taking ahold of his stomach like a giant hand and squeezing. "You have a phone, don't you? I need you to Google what to do, and pull this stupid knife out of my stomach."

Evan gets queasy just thinking about it. "Gregory."

"I know." He says. "But, look. I'm not gonna be awake much longer, since I pretty much ran from the city to here while I was bleeding, and the guy who attacked me had already beat me up a bit before stabbing me."

Evan's heart seizes at that. He returns to Gregory's side, sitting down with him. "But, isnt it not good if you're unconscious--"

"I dont know." He interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "Look, I'm feeling kinda woozy, so I dont know how much longer I have left, but I'll try to stay awake."

Evan frowns. "You're acting like you're gonna die or something." He jokes, but his hand shake at the thought. "...Okay. Come here."

Gregory perks up, sitting up with great effort and putting an arm around Evan's neck when he gestures to. "We're doing this?"

"Yeah." Evan says shakily. He supports Gregory as he leads him lay down, pressed up against the wall, where if the door opened, hed be hidden behind it. Evan grabs a few of the towels he hides in his room to always have a clean one, -since he can never rely on laundry being done in his house-, and lays them under Gregory to soak up any blood. His father would kill Evan if he got the carpet stained with blood.

Evan grabs the first aid kit he always has hidden under his bed, and clicks it open, settling on his knees in front of Gregory's slack form on the floor with hovering hands as he glances at each of the kits contends uncertainly.

He grabs his phone, fingers trembling and pressing all the wrong buttons. Gregorys harsh breathing doesnt help.

"How did this even happen?" Evan asks as he desperately types in 'how to pull a wood carving knife out of your stomach at home' into the search bar. "Like-- I know you get into fights sometimes, but this?"

"Okay okay." Gregory coughs a bit. "Ill tell you. So, you know how it's about to storm?"

Evan glances at the crack through the curtains just enough to see the dark gray clouds swirling. "Yeah."

"So, I wasnt at my usual spot, but it was really close to starting to pour. And getting sick is like, the worst case scenario." Gregory says while Evan reads the random article he found at the speed of light. "So, I had to find some other place closer to where I was to wait out the storm, because I couldnt travel that far in the rain."

Evan pauses in reading, frowning and looking at Gregory's face. "You know you can always come here, right?"

Gregory frowns, looking away. "Yeah, but..." He trails off. "Its not fair to dump my problems on you like that."

Evan scoffs, breathing out a light chuckle. "Like you didnt dump your problems on me right now. And even then, I dont mind. I would much rather you come to me then be in pain somewhere else. Okay?"

Evan doesnt look at Gregory's face, too busy looking down at the article he has pulled up on his phone in his trembling hand, but he can tell hes smiling.

"Also, don't act like you don't make my problems your own, too. Im allowed to do the same as well, you know."

"Okay, okay." Gregory huffs. "I get it. I'll come to you right away next time. Happy?"

"Yes." Evan says, and he really is. Knowing that Gregory is sure to come to Evan when the weather gets bad, or something happens that makes the city unsafe, Evan will be able to sleep soundly knowing Gregory will either be safe with him, or he will be if need be. "You never finished telling me how you ended up with a pocket knife stuck in you, though."

"Right." Gregory chuckles. "So, I find this kind of hidden away spot, right? And I'm thinking I got really lucky, and set my stuff down. But then this other older kid shows up, and its obvious hes like me. But he gets really mad that I'm in his spot and starts yelling at me to get out."

"Jerk." Evan says, pulling the things he needs out of the first aid kit. "You should help eachother out, not fight. I'm sure he could have lended you some space."

"I'm sure you would have." Gregory chuckles. "But anyway, I'm packing up my stuff to leave, because this guy hurting me is a bigger concern than the weather at this point, and I dont want to mess with him."

Evan nods along, and goes to begin, but pauses when the first step is to take out the knife. Nausea curls in his gut, and he winces, glancing at Gregory.

"Hey." He cuts Gregory off in his story, and tries to look as apologetic as possible. "I, um. Have to take the knife out."

Gregory's eyes blow wide, and he frowns. "Oh."

Evan fidgets, having no idea how to make this better for Gregory. "Do you want me to count to three, or...?"

"Just do it." Gregory puts that steely exterior on. "I can handle it. Just do what you need to do."

Evan feels awful; this must suck for Gregory. Even if the knife is small and not very deep, having something sharp ripped out of your flesh cant be fun. "If you're sure."

He props himself on his knees, getting as close to Gregory as possible, and wraps a hand firmly around the small handle of the wood carving knife.

He can see it in Gregory's eyes. Neither of them want to do this.

"Keep telling your story." Evan says softly. Maybe itll distract Gregory from it, even a little bit. And Evan, as well. He can already feel bile working it's way up his throat at the thought.

Gregory nods minutely, jaw locked and tense. He breathes out a bit. "...Kay. So, I'm trying to tell him that I'll leave if he let's me get my stuff, but hes really impatient, and when I dont leave right away, he tries to scare me away faster by beating me."

Evan winces, pointedly twisting his neck away from the knife, as he tightens his grip, anticipation sending lightning through his veins. "That explains the bruises." He says shakily.

Gregory pauses, waiting for something that doesn't come. "...Yeah. He uh, he got me pretty good... but he didnt leave unscathed either. But, I think I got it worse."

"Definitely." Evan agrees ghastily, his stomach rolling when he feels the cold handle of the knife pressing idents in his skin. "Keep going."

Gregory gives him a look, but continues. "...So when I start fighting back, even though I'm smaller, he took that as a bad thing, apparently, and wanted me gone so he didnt get hurt. So what does he do?"

Evan doesn't respond, just squeezing his eyes shut, biting his tongue, and ripping off the bandaid.

Evan rips the knife out with a quick flick of his shoulder, and gags when it makes a fleeting metal-on-flesh sound as its removed. Gregory lurches lightly next to him, making a garbled, suprised sound, and when it's over, just lays flat on the floor.

"G-God." Gregory coughs, stuttering. "Okay, that wasnt that bad. I guess."

"I'm sorry." Evan frets, flinching and dropping the knife on the towel when some of Gregory's blood drips down his fingers. "I'm sorry, Gregory."

"You didnt do it." Gregory chuckles, his face white as a sheet. He brings up an arm to clutch at a spot just above the wound on his chest. "Jesus."

"I'll fix you up." Evan says softly, setting a hand on Gregory's own and taking it away just as quickly when he rushes to go wash his hands. "Okay? It might hurt, but you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"...Kay." Is all Gregory says, and Evan rushes faster when he just let's his head fall against the floor.

When Evan comes back, he all but dives onto the floor, grabbing the things he layed out on the carpet and beginning. "Gregory, hey!"

"What?" Gregory asks, and Evan sinks in relief when hes still awake. He rolls up Gregory's shirt, inspecting the wound, and he finds it looks more like just a deep cut than anything. "I know you're trying to stay awake, but I'm probably gonna have to find a way to close this cut, so you might want to go ahead and go to sleep."

Gregory pales. "Like, stitches?"

"Probably." Evan shudders. A wave of sickness washes over his body when he realizes hes probably gonna have to find a needle and thread, and stitch Gregory's flesh closed, even if the cut is only an inch or so long. "Better safe than sorry. And I really dont think having a wood carving knife stabbed into you, even if it wasnt that deep, is okay to just put a bandaid over."

"...Alright." Gregory sighs, and his head rolls against the floor, his body relaxing. "I don't want to be awake for that."

"Me neither." Evan huffs, and Gregory breathes the air of a laugh through his nose. "But I think you'll be okay. Just sleep, and you'll be patched up when you wake up."

Gregory sighs a deep sigh, and Evan thinks it sounds like deep relief just settled. "Okay. Thank you, Evan."

"Of course." Evan replies, and when Gregory shuts his eyes and no doubt falls asleep pretty quick, Evan glances around his room, and realizes hes gonna have to go on a scavenger hunt for a needle and thread.

He sighs, hoping and wishing that he wont run into his father or Michael when he has to venture out of the safety of his room, but he relaxes at the moment, taking in a deep breath and reaching for some supplies.

First, he has to clean the wound.

🐻

When Gregory creaks his eyes open, it's not to Evan's carpeted floor like he had expected. Well, he is on the floor, he finds when he finally takes in his surroundings. But he isnt laying down completely. Some pillows and blankets have been posed and laid around him, like a nest, and Evan is sitting next to him in the middle, scrolling and watching something on his phone.

Gregory twists his neck and puts pressure in his arm, trying to prop himself up. He yawns, and Evan startles, taking out the crappy Walmart earbuds he'd bought. "Gregory!"

"Hi." Gregory groans, feeling the effects of his fistfight and intense sprint take hold, his body groaning and aching with soreness at his movement. He feels warm; which is something he wasnt expecting when he'd initially thought he'd spend the span of the storm outside in it. "Ugh."

Evan shuts his phone off lays it and his earbuds on the blanket, twisting his torso and shimmying in his spot laying against a pillow against the wall and legs covered with a throw blanket to face him. "You probably dont feel too good."

"Like crap." Gregory agrees. When he shifts again, back and head cushioned against two pillows without cases on them, he can feel the sore sort of throbbing pain of whatever stitches Evan had sewn in him. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, feeling guilty on Evan's behalf. "But... the stitches feel secure. I'm sorry you had to do that, it must have sucked really hard."

"It did." Evan shudders, but chuckles at the same time. "You know, I had to go in my Moms room to get the needle and thread and steal the pills from my Dad."

Gregory quirks a brow. "What pills?" He asks at the same time Evan hands him a small bottle of Advil. "Oh."

Evan hands him some snacks, too. A water bottle and some crackers. He smiles softly and takes them, taking two Advil with a swig of the water bottle. "You did all that for me?" Gregory asks, voice small. "...I know you hate your Dad, and your parents would get mad at you if they saw you snooping."

"I know." Evan says, fidgeting with one of the blankets and laying his head on the pillow propped against the wall. "But I wanted you to feel better more than I was scared of my parents."

Theres a short stretch of silence after that, only the harsh rain and wind against the house being heard. Gregory stays silent, turning over Evan's words in his head.

His eyes burn slightly, but he pushes it down with precise practice. "Thank you" Is all he can find in him to say. Theres too many feelings, too many emotions he has to put them into words.

But Evan knows him, and Gregory knows he understands when he nods, and smiles that small, kind smile that just screams 'and I'd do it again'. "Of course." Evan insists, and looks away for a moment. "I want you to trust me, okay? I want to show you that if you come to me because you need help, I'll be here, and I wont discount you, or-- or shrug you off."

Gregory doesn't smile, but he feels warmth spread through his chest at that. Gregory knows Evan, so he knows exactly why he would want Gregory to feel that way. He knows exactly why Evan holds himself to that, even though Gregorys confident a lot of it has to do with just the kindness in Evan's own heart.

"I-I know." Gregory whispers. "I came here because I do trust you. I came here because I know that."

It's really hard for Gregory to say that, and he knows Evan understands, because he doesnt comment, just nods, relief sagging his shoulders.

Theres a short burst of silence for a moment, the two of them just soaking up the atmosphere of being warm and comfortable, despite the circumstances.

"You're staying here, by the way." Evan's voice rips him out of his thoughts suddenly, and Gregory snaps to attention to see Evan looking at him sternly, but worriedly. "I know you're gonna try to say something stupid about how you're fine to go back into the rain. You arent going anywhere near the city, alright? I don't care if the storm lasts a week. I'll find a way to hide you so Michael or my father dont find you, okay?"

Gregory snorts at Evan's intense voice, but his heart bursts all the same. "Okay, Evan. I promise."

"Good." Evan sounds appeased. He twists his body, reaching for something, and grabs his phone, putting one earbud in and giving Gregory the other. He opens YouTube, handing the phone to Gregory. "You can pick. Honor of the patient."

Gregory grins, giggling. "Thanks, Doctor Evan."

ao3 link

#it was less that the wound was actually bad #and more that theyre 13 and the wound in question is technically a stab wound and that sounds super bad on paper #so theyre seeing it worse than it may be because its scary #lso having something stabbed in you that isnt supposed to be there #will make you woozy and almost pass out so that just adds to the scary factor for them #i hope some of the details i put in hammered in how uncomfortable evan is in his own home. but since becoming friends with gregory #(lets say a year so theyre both 13 here) #hes grown a bit more of a backbone alongside just getting older #so hes actually doing things that might get him in trouble #like hiding food and towels in his room and blocking the door with furniture #when before he would be too scared to do any of that and just let the torment happen #written with medical inaccuracies (probably) tagged #pandas writes #oneshot #ficlet #flashlight duo #gregory and evan #the aftons #evan #gregory #fnaf gregory #evan afton #flashlight duo modern au #au #blood warning #stabbing mention #blood and injury #mention of child neglect #vomit mention #flashlight duo oneshots

[lavenderwhore444]

OK I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR CAT SHIGARAKI , what if cat shigaraki can actually turn into a cat 🐈 likr a full on cat, one day u where coming back from work and sensed someone was following u, but every time u would check u would find nothing not until the 5th time u turn around u see a little tail wiggling, u try to hide ur giggles and pretend u didn’t see him, shigaraki wasn’t sure why he was so interested in u since he basically hated everyone but something about u was so soft and sweet, shigaraki of course never trusts anyone after what happened to him ( poor baby was abused), after that little incident he started following u home every day, u of course didn’t mind but u really wanted to get a closer look ( u always had food outside wanting for him), on one rainy night shigaraki couldn’t find a place, he was scared,cold and hungry so he ends up scratching and meowing on ur door, u open the door and find this adorable yet really skinny cat and not to mention he was shaking ( one of his ears has a little cut) he looked like he was about to faint so u immediately picked him up and dried him off and fad him, he was exhausted so he passed out, until he woke up he never had anyone caring for him like that, u were really worried for him that really made him feel something he wasn’t so sure of but he knew he wanted ti stay , so this is the day u decided to take this random ass cat in that u had no idea if it was a male or female every time u wanted to check he would hiss ( he was really shy and thought u were pervert) at u so u gave up and picked a random name he didn’t like any but oh well, at first shigaraki was a bit grumpy and a bit shy but he eventually warmed up to u, until one day u we’re on the couch watching tv, shigaraki sees u and goes to cuddle with u ( he was feeling a bit really touched starved) u surprised to say the least, u took a little nap with him until u woke up and Felt something heavy on u, u look down to find a dude cuddling up on ur chest, u pushed him off and started panicking, he did have the cat ears and tail but no way is that ur pet, shigaraki woke annoyed until he remembered he was in his human form, u we’re asking so may questions all he wanted to do is cuddle with u for god sake, he explained everything to u and told u his name , u didn’t mind tbh u had to admit he was kind of cute in his human form, plus it’s not like u haven’t heard if hybrids before u know a lot of people have them so why not have one too , it’s been a almost a year since that day and u never regretted having shigaraki he was absolutely precious.

-🤡

Someone I Can Trust

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Tw: mildly implied SA (not to the reader) just fluffy idk

Your neighborhood might not have been in the nicest area, and you might be just a little paranoid, but you've never felt like this before. You could practically feel the eyes on your back. You checked behind you every so often but never saw anyone and assumed you were just more anxious than normal.

However, you were being followed by someone who could kill you with just one touch. Even though he'd learned to control his quirk, Tomura Shigaraki had little regard for human life. He hated almost everyone but took an interest in you.

It wasn't that he liked you. He was just curious, like a hunter hunting new prey or a scientist watching a new specimen. It didn't matter that the smell of your sweet perfume had drawn him in, and the way you were just so unbearably cute had kept him very interested.

He had followed you for four whole blocks; he got worried when you started heading towards this part of town. Tomura followed you, ready to attack anyone who tried to hurt you. He had concluded that you were the only tolerable person to exist on this stupid dying planet.

It got tricky when he followed you into an alley. There wasn't really anywhere to hide. He stepped on a twig and darted behind a trash can, praying that you didn't see him. Unfortunately you did see him. Well, part of him.

When you checked behind you again, a cute little tail was sticking out from behind an overflowing garbage can. You bit your lip as you smiled, pretending that you didn't see the kitty’s tail. To be fair, you didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, but you had gone with a random hunch you had.

When you reached your apartment, you took one final look around but assumed the little kitty had disappeared. Tomura wanted so badly to race right past you into your house and refuse to leave, but he didn't know who you were or what you'd do to a random uninvited cat. He just couldn't trust you. He wished he could.

The next time he walked by your house, he noticed some cat food sitting out. Did you have another cat? Who cares? He was hungry, so he walked up and ate most of the food. Maybe you could be a consistent source of food. When he heard your door unlock from the new box he'd taken residence in, he followed you to work and then back to your apartment. This went on for a good week and a half.

One day it began to rain. And then it started to pour. The box Tomura had taken shelter in was damp, and rain came right through it. He wanted to cry, he had nowhere to go, and he was cold. So so cold. He tried to hide anywhere he could but was chased out by other cats. He ran back to your apartment and desperately clawed and meowed at your door.

Inside, you heard him despite the heavy rain. If you‘d had the TV going, you wouldn't have heard his sad meows, but thankfully, you did. You open the door to see the cat that follows you home. He's skinny and has patches of fur missing, nearly bald, and his ear is cit. He's shivering and looks like he's about to faint.

You immediately scoop him up and hold him to your chest hoping to warm him up while you get a fresh towel out of the dryer. It's still warm and you wrap him up in it.

“Oh, poor kitty, you must be so hungry,” you say, picking him up while he's snuv in the warm towel.

He mewls quietly, agreeing with you. The food you'd been leaving out was always eaten by other cats when he got there.

“Come on, sweetie, it's gonna be okay,” you reassure.

He lets you carry him to the kitchen, where you open some cat food for him. He lets you feed him. He feels too weak to stand on his own legs. When the can of food is gone, his eyelids droop, and he nearly falls asleep in your arms. When you put him down, he cries for you to stay with him.

He's never felt this way before. Tomura isn't sure if he can trust you or not, but he needs you. He has to try and trust you.

“Aww, you want me to stay with you,” you're already gushing over the cute cat, “of course, sweetie,”

You scoop him into your arms and undo the towel a bit so he's not constricted. You fall asleep with him in your arms. When he wakes up, he sees you scrolling through your phone; he peeks at it and sees you're looking at missing pet reports.

His heart sinks. His old owner may not have cared about him but the thought of them putting up a report made him shake. You feel him stir and see how scared he looks.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” you say, noticing him staring at the screen, “you can stay with me,”

He mewls in agreement and wriggles out of your arms.

“Hold on buddy,” you say picking him up.

When he notices where you're trying to look, he hisses at you and squirms until you put him down. If he'd have known you were such a pervert, he would have stayed out in the rain. The way you scratch behind his ears makes him forget all about how weird you were, and he purrs loudly.

“What should we name you?” you wonder out loud, you look at his light blue fur and decide on a name, “how about snowball,”

Tomura pretty much hates the name you chose for him, but oh well. He hops off the bed and decides to poke around the house. You follow him around and make sure he doesn't try to eat anything he shouldn't. Something in his little kitty brain lights up when he sees a room with a bunch of boxes. He doesn't know why he's so compelled to jump in them, but when he does, he's elated.

He hops in and out of them, looking at you for approval whenever he jumps, particularly high. You always reward him with clapping and words of praise. When he's finished playing on what he's deemed as the box room, he heads to the living room, rubbing his face all over your furniture to mark it as his territory.

He does the same with the rest of your house as well as you. He's having a good time until you pick him up and try to peek where you're not supposed to again. He hisses at you and is grumpy for the rest of the day, hiding under the couch, climbing into the cupboards, and causing havoc throughout your home.

When you yank him down from the highest shelf of the laundry room, he frowns at you (as much as a cat can) and stalks away to sleep on the couch. You're honestly not worried about his grumpiness. It just means he's getting his strength back and standing up for himself.

You do have to admit that you miss the way he had curled up in your arms last night. You love living with your kitty, and he still follows you to work time and time again. Over time he became for comfortable and a bit nicer (no more random biting) until he was comfortable enough to nap at the end of your bed.

The next time it rained, tomura was terrified. You were watching TV on the couch, and he jumped onto your chest. He needed you to cuddle him while it rained, so he didn't feel scared anymore. You were happy and also a bit surprised. Of course, you didn't complain while he purred as you held him.

His purring lulled you to sleep, and he got so comfortable he accidentally switched back into his hybrid form. Tomura wasn't born a cat, but hybrids on the streets are treated so cruelly that he decided he was safer im his cat form. When you woke up to a heavy weight on your chest, you jumped, causing Tomura to wake up.

When you look down and see a random guy lying on you, you immediately push him to the floor, trying not to look too far down since he was naked (cats don't wear clothes. You can't blame him). The thing that scared you the most was that you couldn't find your cat.

“Who are you!” you shrieked, looking down at the man.

You noticed he had the same ears and tail as “snowball,” but there's no way he was your pet Tomuras is a bit disgruntled from being woken up from his nap but kind of understands your distress.

“Who do you think?” he says, “I’m your cat, just a hybrid,”

You stare at him in shock, of course you knew about hybrids but he still scared you.

“My names Tomura,” he says, “so you can stop calling me snowball,”

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, confused, “I still would've taken you in,”

“Well I didn't know that,” he snapped.

Tomura was much moodier in his hybrid form because he had a better memory. He was able to remember all the abuse he endured and how badly he was treated. He didn't want to go through that again, but when you scratched behind his ears, he couldn't keep himself from purring.

“Let’s get you some clothes,” you say, guiding him to your room.

You had some spare clothes your brother had forgotten when he moved out. Tomura put them on eagerly, not wanting you to look too far down. Having fresh, clean clothes on was a new experience to him; his old master never gave him any, and he cringed at the thought, beginning to panic a bit.

You noticed the change in his breathing and wrapped your arms around him. That same sweet smell of your perfume that had drawn him in reached his nose, and he began to breathe slowly, taking in it all in.

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “it’s okay now you're safe,”

He nods, getting choked up at the thought of you caring about him. Over time your friendship strengthens, and even some romance blooms. You love spending the night snuggling with him and kissing him. Tomuras the best thing to ever happen to you and your the best to him.

He's finally found someone he can trust.

#shigaraki fluff #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tenko #shigaraki x reader #shiggy #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura fluff #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #tenko x reader

[hitbythunder]

The Roll of Thunder -3

A Thor x Reader and later some Loki x Reader story

Summary: After Frigga’s and Loki’s deaths, Thor struggles with his grief and blames himself for the loss. Barely able to manage his emotions, the god helps the other heros on Earth so that he can stay away from Asgard - a place which only reminds him of his pain. When the team acquires a golden sphere from a mission, however, Thor is forced to deal with his past. She has black hair, pale skin and a pair of emerald eyes which haunt the god in his dreams. Could she be Loki?

Warnings: non-con in later chapters

~º*º*º~

Against his better knowledge, Thor stepped forward, his fists clenched and his face dark, and when he passed the low coffee-table the woman half-jumped smoothly behind the large arm-chair next to the couch so that he couldn't grab her easily. “You shouldn't walk on this earth as your whole existence is an insult to my brother!” It was barely a whisper, a mere low growl full of anger and Thor wasn't sure if she understood his words. But from the way she trembled she seemed to grasp his threat and the god was pleased to see pure dread in her eyes. Suddenly the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway and quickly as a cat the woman ran over there to hide behind Steve the very moment he entered the living room, her tiny figure vanishing completely behind the larger man. The Captain was confused for a second as the female rushed behind him but then he looked over to Thor and knew leaving them alone was a mistake. The big blonde glared at them, every muscle of his body tensed, stretching the dark-blue t-shirt he wore to the maximum. Even the air seemed to become dry and crackling because of his fury and Steve shoved the little woman further behind him.

“Thor, I suggest you leave or this will become ugly. I don't want to fight you but if you don't calm down you give me no choice.” The Captain said sternly , hoping that the god was open to reason and would regain his senses. “Please, Thor!”

Breathing heavily he stood in place like a column, his piercing blue eyes sparkling dangerously and he even thought about summoning Mjolnir.

But then what? Fight the Captain, my friend, who is unarmed at the moment? No! Thor thought to himself before he made up his mind to leave it at that. Slowly the tension in his body declined and he turned around to stomp off towards the elevator. When the metal doors closed again, Steve sighed in relief and turned to the shivering being behind him. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left!" He said and hoped that Natasha wouldn't find out somehow. "Jarvis, where is Thor now?"

"He is currently in his room, trashing some furniture." The AI replied instantly in its usual calm voice. A look of concern and confusion crossed the Captain's face because he could not grasp the reason why the god detested this woman. She didn't do anything to him but he desires to kill her... 

"I guess we should stay here on this floor then." The kitchen area was taboo for now as it was on the same floor as Thor's room.

 ***

When Natasha came back to the tower, she hurried towards the living room because Jarvis had informed her about what happened in her absence. Steve was watching some TV while the Kitten curled up beside him on the couch and slept peacefully. Not wanting to wake her, the red-head sat silently down beside Steve and whispered: "Thanks for protecting her but next time you better pee yourself before you let them out of your sight." Steve almost chuckled aloud. "So you know. Well, sorry about that. But I just don't get it why Thor acts so hostile. I mean look at her!" Both observed the sleeping female next to them, her breathing steadily and her expression soft. "Why are you protecting her?" the Captain asked all of a sudden and Natasha hesitated before she replied. "She reminds me of myself before I was trained to become an assassin. All childish innocence had been taken from me and afterwards was only pain and fear until I didn't feel even those anymore." Natasha stared at the floor while Steve pondered over her words, the quiet muttering from the TV being the only sound in the room.

 ***

The next evening, heavy raindrops splashed against the large windows of Stark Tower, as if the heavens were weeping for the Norse god who wouldn't share a single tear. Jane had called. Due to her work she was in New York and had wished to meet with him – talk about things. Jane always wanted to talk, to discuss and to analyze matters and Thor loathed it. But he had agreed and about two hours later, the brunette exited the elevator on his floor. He welcomed her nicely, as did the other Avengers, but they didn't kiss before both vanished in Thor's room.  Natasha and the Kitten were in the kitchen preparing some food when Jane rushed past them over an hour later, her eyes watery.

"Now we know why it's storming outside. Looks like Thor ditched her." Tony commented when she was gone while Natasha only shrugged. Her teammates love affairs were none of her concern. Outside a wild thunderstorm roared, darkening the night-sky.

This night the little female could not sleep because of the weather, being too nervous because she knew it was him who caused the thunder. This woman named Jane seemed to be his mate, he was gentle to her but even she ran from him, crying and frustrated. But why is he so gruesome to me? The little Kitten wondered before sleep took hold of her finally. Also in her dreams, the blue eyed blonde pursued her, chasing after her with his hammer and in pure fury, causing her to revive the moment of agony when his lightning hit her. The rest of the night she was befallen by a strong fever, sweating every last drop of water out of her body.

The next morning, Natasha shook the woman gently to wake her, a worried expression on her face. "Kitten, are you alright? You are feverish..." she assessed when she touched her heated forehead and decided to let Bruce know. "Rest some more, I'll be right back." But Bruce couldn't do more than to take her temperature and advice more rest.

"I won't risk side effects because of some medicament. We don't know how her body reacts to them."

 ***

It was lunch when Natasha went to see the Kitten again and luckily, her fever was gone. “So how is she?” Steve asked worriedly when the red-head returned into the kitchen while Tony sipped his coffee. “Completely fine. What ever it was, it's gone.” she answered and opened the fridge to get some food for the other woman. “Perfect, I wouldn't want her to miss the party tonight!” Tony commented joyfully from the side, meeting Steve's puzzled gaze. “A party?” “Yes, we had some severe missions the past weeks – all successfully completed – and that demands for some serious celebration!” the scientist cheered. “For once you have a point.” Natasha admitted because she was definitely in the mood for some merriment – and she needed an occasion to wear her new dress anyway. “But is it wise to have Kitten among a bunch of strange people?”

“She's already living with us, who could be worse?” Tony retorted and walked towards the elevator. “What about Thor?” Steve interrupted but the billionaire only shrugged casually. “We'll keep him and Kitty apart or we could disguise her as your evil twin-sister!” Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes while Natasha sighed. “Thor is not stupid, Tony.” “Well he has his moments … Anyways, don't worry, it will be great!” Tony replied and vanished inside the elevator.

***

Several pearls of sweat glided down his massive body as he moved quickly across the training grounds, swinging his hammer wildly. In order to maintain his godly physique and his honed skills but also because he loved it, Thor trained every day for at least four hours, sometimes even more. Additionally, it proved to be a successful means to calm his temper and distract his mind, which he needed direly after his talk with Jane yesterday. She had accused him of neglecting her, having her wait for two years after his first visit on Midgard and now that he was living with the Avengers he avoids her still. Sadly, these reproaches were merely the hurtful truth and the bitter end of their relationship was overdue. Thus the god told her to leave and never come back for him. Of course it hurt that they would walk separate ways now but Thor was also relieved, had this relationship been more a burden than a blessing of late. After realizing this simple fact, Thor's mood was bright today and he didn't feel the need to moon over her. Thus he trained joyfully, each swing of the hammer with such vigor that if he let go it would crash through several walls. This training reminded him of Asgard, where he had often sparred with his friends in the sands, sweating and laughing.

The fond memories brought a small smile onto the gods lips when he took the elevator to his floor, panting and exhausted. He was in dire need of a shower and the prospect of cold water rushing down his hot skin seemed incredibly marvelous.  But when he entered the bath next to his room, his mood darkened abruptly when a small woman stood in front of the tub and Thor was stunned by the sight. A white towel wrapped around her slim figure was all that concealed her curves while her slender legs were bare for the god to behold. With her wet black hair combed back neatly and her emerald eyes locked to his, she resembled the God of Mischief more than ever.

By the Nine, she looks exactly like him...

Paralyzed by her fear she didn't move and stared up at the blonde giant who blocked the way outside. Intently she watched every twitch, every reaction of him, hoping to find an opportunity to slip past his large body. She noted the pearls of sweat on his skin, causing his shirt to stick to his broad chest and rippled abdomen, his heavy breathing and the tension in his muscles because of the training. Thor was terribly confused by the emotions rushing through him right now. On the one hand, there was grief and anger for being so bluntly reminded of his deceased brother, additionally to the fear that she could be one of Loki's tricks. But on the other hand, standing half-naked in front of him, the towel pressing her small breasts together to form a lovely décolleté in which a pearl of water vanished, she was a truly arousing sight – too arousing for Thor as he could already feel her bewitching effect on his lower parts. A minx just like Loki... he thought to himself, remembering how gracious and elegant his brother had been, how beautiful compared to him. Secretly, Thor had always admired Loki's slim yet trained figure, combined with those long slender legs and those honed features. The second prince had been the champion amongst the ladies in Asgard but he didn't make as much use of his royal position as Thor did in order to bed lovely maidens.

Suddenly and without warning, the little one rushed forward and tried to get past him but Thor reacted in time and caught her by the left arm, yanking her back before him. “You... Enough of this deceit! Tell me, what are you!” His voice was a low hiss and he leaned down to intimidate her further, their faces only inches apart. Not able to withstand his staring, she turned her head and averted her gaze but Thor grabbed her chin with his free hand and forced her to meet his piercing blue eyes again. “Tell me!” he urged with more anger in his voice, his grip on her arm and chin tightening, causing her to shrink back in fear. “P..please...” At first, the god couldn't believe his ears when he heard her voice, but her lips had actually moved to form a single word – her first word and it was a pleading. Unintentionally and as stunned as he was, Thor loosened his hold on her for a split second and the little woman made use of it and quickly slipped past the larger man. He tried to grab her in the hallway but she was beyond reach and then vanished into Natasha's room. Damned... While he was under the shower, Thor decided not to tell the others that she had spoken to him because he wanted to ask her some important questions first and alone. He tilted his head back and ravished the cold water running down his face while he thought about how to proceed before his mind drifted off to other topics – tonight's party amongst them.

***

The three floors of the living room were crowded with chatting guests and the atmosphere was relaxed and merry when Thor exited the elevator to join the ongoing party. Dressed in a casual pair of black jeans combined with a grey shirt and a crimson jacked on top, he looked very handsome and more of a gentlemen than a warrior. For once, his hair was combed and tied back loosely – his mother would be happy to see him dolled up like that. Several ladies smiled enticingly at him when he made his way towards the bar, flattering the god's ego just like the ladies did in Asgard when he was a young prince.

“Do we know each other, Sir?” Tony quipped and eyed the god beside him, whom he had rarely seen in such elegant attire. “Look at you! Dandified from head to toes. Is that cologne I smell on you?” Tony added and Thor chuckled, swaying the drink in his hands before he retorted in a half-serious tone. “My punches will hurt no less in this garments.” “Oh come on, that was a compliment! And you have to admit that you look ravishing – not as much as me though.” With a cocky smirk, the billionaire sipped at his strong drink when Steve joined them. “Where's Pepper? I haven't seen her in a while.” “Well, running her own company now, Pepper has a tight schedule. That's the side effect of success I guess." Tony explained almost melancholy. "At last we agree on something." Thor put in and Steve dared to dig some more. "I've heard that Jane is the best in her field of science.." "Indeed. And now she can focus on her work entirely." With one gulp the god emptied his glass and put it down onto the bar. "And I shall have more time for other merriments!" Thor added and smiled widely at them while Tony put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"That's my man! Where's the Whiskey?" "Another fruitless attempt to best me in drinking?" Thor chuckled in amusement, had none of his friends managed to drink him under the table yet. Midgardian alcohol was far less potent than the one served on Asgard.  "Hell yes! And no pretty lady can stop me from my mission!" Tony boasted, eager to win this time, while he refilled their glasses. The Captain could only smile at Stark's optimism but then he noted two figures appearing on the upper floor of the living room.

"And what about those two?" he said, causing the other men to follow his gaze to the top of the stairs, their eyes widening at the sight. Natasha looked stunning in her black and white dress, which emphasized her curvy yet trained body and to soften the outfit her fiery red hair was falling in large locks. And the woman beside her was at least her equal. The three men were surprised what drastic change the right choice of clothes plus a little make up could achieve. The Kitten wore a dark-blue sundress, which was tight at the top but more loose from the hips downward, with a white ribbon around her waist matching her pumps. Her black hair was floating freely down her shoulders, the tips framing her emerald eyes and pink lips.

"Looks like Kitten has become a tiger." Tony whispered to Steve when the two ladies graciously descended the staircase and walked towards them. "You may pick up your jaw from the floor, Tony." Natasha quipped before she walked around the bar to make her special 'vodka-romanoff' – a hefty drink which could easily knockout the strongest man. "I'm not used to some tight clothes around your body except your leather suit, forgive me the staring." The billionaire replied casually and gestured her to make him a drink too while Steve tried to occupy Thor's attention in a conversation to keeping him distracted. But the god was only half listening to his friend, shooting quick glances over to the black-haired woman beside him whenever possible. As soon as Natasha was done behind the bar she decided to search for Bruce and took the Kitten along, not wanting to leave her around the guys alone. Thor sighed silently and engaged more into the conversation with Steve. I need her to be alone...

During the evening, the Kitten noticed how Natasha flirted with the friendly scientist, at first only subtle but after another drink her attempts became rather obvious and the Kitten decided to give them some privacy. Thus she strolled through the crowd of guests towards a large window in a more quiet corner of the room. She had refrained from drinking as Natasha had advised her, which allowed her sharp senses to detect the man approaching her. He won't hurt me in front of all those strangers? She thought to herself when she turned to face the tall god behind her. As soon as he had noticed that she was alone, Thor crossed the room. He almost hurried over to her because he couldn't let this opportunity slip.

“You owe me an answer, little one.” He kept his voice low but there were definitely determination and harshness in it. “What are you? And more importantly, do you know a man named Loki?” he added and looked deep into her green eyes as if boring into her soul with his own piercing blue orbs. All he received as an answer was a shake of her head – referring to his second question he supposed. “Good.” Although that didn't mean that she was not a creation of his brother, Thor felt a little bit relieved, which the Kitten sensed too. However, the god wondered why she didn't run from him this time like she had earlier today and assumed that she felt safe because of the guests present, knowing that Thor wouldn't hurt her now. Clever little thing...he thought when he noted the sudden change in her expressions and color of complexion. Her pale skin seemed almost as white as the ribbon of the dress and she put her hand on the glass to steady herself, her gaze blurry and averted from him now. Then she brought up her free hand to touch her head as if she was in pain and it was that exact moment when Thor noted the few small golden scales on her upper arm. Have my eyes missed them when I met her in the bathroom?

“Help...” she whispered, interrupting the god's trail of thoughts before she collapsed in front of him.

#thor x reader #loki x reader #the roll of thunder #fanfic #romance and drama

[verai-marcel]

The Things That We Could Be (Charles x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+, 2 of 3)

Tags, summary, and notes are in Chapter 1.

AO3 Link is here, baby.

Word Count: 2891

Chapter 2 - Close Enough to Touch

“Here we are. Mi casa es su casa, as Javier would say.”

Your home is my home. You smiled; he had mentioned Javier a couple of times, that he didn’t come around while the store was open in case somebody recognized him. When you had asked Charles why he would be recognized, he had shown you a magazine. He flipped to one of the ads, and a man with tanned skin, beautiful dark hair, and a seductive smile, wearing some of the latest outfits of a well-known clothing brand took up a whole page. Charles had told you that he didn’t want the attention that he got sometimes and that his cafe was a safe place for him to chill with just the cats. Wanting a safe place was something you could easily relate to.

As you followed Charles inside, you took in his apartment; a door across from the entry led to a small bathroom. To the left of that was a kitchenette with a stove, oven, sink, microwave, and a fridge. Past the kitchen was a door leading to his bedroom, and to the left of that was a small living area with a sofa and a TV. Tucked away in the corner was a small table with two chairs.

Small, but efficient. It was definitely bigger than your apartment.

You peeked into his room, your temporary bedroom for the next week. Charles left your duffel bags at the foot of his bed. He had a king sized bed; he was a large man and needed the space. Unfortunately, because the bed was so large, there was hardly any space for anything else in his room, not even a desk. There was a chest of drawers on one wall and a small nightstand next to the bed.

“So, should we make something for dinner?”

You turned around and took the one step into the kitchen, watching Charles as he started to pull food out of the fridge. “Sure, but is there even room in there for me to help you?”

He turned around, looked at you, and smiled. “I suppose there isn’t. Unless you don’t mind being close.”

You swallowed. Was he saying things like that on purpose?

“I’m kidding. Make yourself comfortable. I was going to make some chicken and rice, if you don’t mind.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said as you bounded over to the couch and looked out the window that overlooked the street below. There were still people walking around, restaurants and breweries bustling with activity, but the windows were closed and blocked out most of the sound.

You went back to Charles’ room and grabbed your laptop bag, went back to the couch, and started working.

***

Dinner was wonderful, and you found yourself getting sleepy very quickly. After helping with the dishes, you told him you were going to settle in for the night, despite the early hour.

He nodded and bid you goodnight, grabbing a blanket and a sheet for the sofa. You felt bad about him offering you his bed, but when you had tried to talk him out of it, he stubbornly refused to hear you out.

Nestling into his large bed, you noticed that it smelled of him. You buried yourself under the covers, surrounded by his scent, took a deep breath, and felt protected for the first time in a long time.

***

You had not intended to wake up so early, but you supposed that was because of how early you had gone to bed. Stepping out of the bedroom with a change of clothes and your bathroom bag, you were shocked to full wakefulness by the vision before your eyes.

Charles had just exited the shower, wearing only sweatpants and a towel around his neck. His black hair was damp, loose around his shoulders and trailing down his back and chest, drops of water sliding down his body. His biceps made your mouth water, his pecs made your body burn with desire. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his hard muscles under your fingers.

“G’morning,” he said as he looked up at you. Walking towards you, he pointed a thumb at the shower. “It’s all yours.”

You could only nod, your eyes catching a glimpse of the outline of his manhood through his sweatpants. Trying to hide the sudden sharp intake of breath you took, you scurried to the bathroom, desperate to take a shower and drown out the burning of your lust.

***

You weren’t proud of the fact that you had imagined Charles pinning you up against the wall in just his sweatpants, his hair deliciously framing his gorgeous face, his hands holding your wrists above your head. Stroking yourself in the shower, picturing him pulling out his huge cock as he spread your thighs, and then taking you against the wall in an animalistic show of primal lust, rutting into you as if you were the last woman on earth, you came so quickly that you nearly forgot to hide your small cries.

Cleaning yourself off, you finished your shower, did your usual routine, and came out of the bathroom, sated but feeling somewhat guilty. You jilled off in his bathroom! You couldn’t believe yourself, but after seeing him like that, how could you not?

“Coffee?” he asked from the kitchen as you walked by.

“Yes please,” you said as you put your bathroom bag and pajamas into the bedroom and came over to the small dining table. Charles placed before you a hot mug of coffee with only a little splash of milk, just the way you liked it.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully as you sipped the delicious nectar of the gods. “God, this is just as good as you make it in the cafe.”

“Of course, it’s the same beans. I buy a batch for myself whenever I put my order in.”

“It’s not just that, you make it so well… I end up using the wrong temperature or the wrong amount and it ends up tasting gross.”

“I’ll teach you my ratios,” he said as he sat next to you with his own cup. A few moments of silence passed as the two of you enjoyed your drink.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard you cry in the shower.”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “I- I’m fine! Just nearly dropped my razor, that’s all. No biggie. I’m fine.” You winced, knowing that you had repeated yourself, knowing that it sounded like you were lying, which you were.

Charles looked at you for a few moments more, your heart pounding with the stress. Finally he nodded. “Alright, but if you’re not feeling well, don’t push yourself.”

You mentally let out a huge sigh of relief. Outwardly, you smiled. “Thanks Charles. Really. I owe you big for helping me out.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

You swear his voice dropped an octave when he said ‘anything’.

***

The week passed by far too quickly. Every morning was the same; you would take your shower after Charles, then he would go downstairs to open the cafe while you did some writing or did phone interviews in his living room until it was time to meet someone in person. When you weren’t working on a news article, you were researching the ODB MC, or you were apartment hunting. You found very little on the internet about the MC, and your apartment hunt was turning up nothing.

Worried that you would be overstaying your welcome, you planned to go back to your old apartment by the end of the week.

As Charles came up the stairs after closing up the cafe on the last day of the week, he spotted you packing your bags once more. You had sprawled out your items at the beginning of the week, but now you had put everything away.

“You found a new place yet?” he asked as he leaned against the doorway.

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I’ve been here a week, I think it’s been long enough.”

You heard Charles’ footsteps as he padded up you and knelt down next to you on the floor. You wouldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see his eyes, because you knew whatever he said, you would listen if he caught you in his earnest gaze.

So when he took your chin between his fingers and turned your head towards him, you were trapped by the worried look in his eyes.

“Please. Stay. Until you find a new place.”

You swallowed. You worried that you were troubling him.

It must have shown on your face, as his eyes roved over your features. He suddenly leaned in and kissed your forehead gently. “You’re not a burden. I’m happy to have you here.”

As he got up and walked back to the kitchen, you slowly raised your hand to your forehead.

Had he really just kissed you?

***

You ended up staying for another week, and with each passing day, you felt more and more guilty for staying with Charles. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell that sleeping on the couch wasn’t the more restful sleep for him. He was yawning more often, and looked a little more tired every day. He even had spent a good chunk of his day off taking a nap.

Determined to find your own place so you’d stop feeling like a leech, you spent more time looking for apartments.

Your luck seemed to have turned around by the end of the second week. You had found an ad on Craigslist for someone renting out an apartment closer to downtown, a basement level unit for super cheap. When you went to look at the place, it was surprisingly clean and neat, but it was also very small. However, the price was right and the location was much closer to the cat cafe, which was a significant plus for you.

You bit the bullet and broke your lease with the other place. Fortunately, the landlord understood why you were doing it. Unfortunately, he still made you pay the huge fee that came with leaving early.

With your bank account mostly drained, you were left with no real way to move your stuff out other than by taking everything apart and dragging it to your car on your own.

But Charles insisted on helping you. And he brought his friends.

John, Arthur, and Javier, along with Charles, came by to help you move your stuff out of the old place and into the new one, making your move so much faster. John had brought his pick up truck, and you had your ancient Honda Civic. Although the other guys just had their motorbikes, they were stronger than you and could carry boxes and furniture all day, leaving you to do clean up and organization. 

You were grateful for their help, offering to buy them pizza when you got your next paycheck. They had laughed it off, saying that they needed the exercise anyway. You weren’t sure how much Charles had told them about your situation, but when they all told you to stay safe, you had an inkling that he told them enough.

***

After you had moved into your new place, you still felt the need to come home before sundown, but as each day passed and you felt safer in your new place, you stayed out later and later. The library was safe, and you started to regularly stay until they closed at 8PM.

Driving past the café, you looked through your window to see Charles sweeping the floor. 

It was only a moment, but you swear he looked up and saw you. Part of you immediately felt guilty for not paying heed to his warning, but you shook that feeling away. There was no way he would have recognized your generic looking car. 

Your phone suddenly rang, the ring tone coming over your car speakers via Bluetooth. You glanced at the screen. 

Charles. 

Hitting the phone button on your steering wheel, you girded yourself. 

"Hello?" 

"You just drove past, didn't you?" 

"...Yeah."

"Don't get out of your car, I'll meet you at your place."

"I'll be fine, they haven't bothered me in a few weeks."

There was a heavy silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "That's what worries me. I'm coming to you, if only for peace of mind."

You knew better than to argue with him when his voice was like this: deep, commanding. It was sexy as hell, even as you rolled your eyes at the fact that he was probably being paranoid. 

You parked your car in your car spot and got out, just as Charles pulled up on his bike, an Indian Chief Vintage, decked out in all black. 

"How'd you get here so quickly?" 

He glared at you. "Didn't I ask you to stay in your car?" he asked, ignoring your question. 

This time you definitely rolled your eyes. "C'mon Charles, I have my mace, I know some self defense, it's not that far from here to my door, it'll be–" 

Just as the two of you were about to reach your door, the three men who had harassed you before stepped out from around the corner. 

Charles immediately stepped in front of you. 

"Get outta here, lover boy. We just want to talk to the lady."

"I know your idea of 'talk'. Leave her alone."

The three men loomed closer. 

“Or what?” the leader asked, sneering.

Charles just stood his ground, but you observed his stance widening slightly, his muscles flexing as he prepared to defend you.

You took a step back and widened your stance as well. Holding your keys in one hand like a knife and wielding your mace in the other, you stood ready to defend yourself.

However, all three of them went at Charles, attempting to grapple him to the ground. They completely ignored you as they threw punch after punch at him.

Seeing Charles stand his ground and landing a few good punches on his own, you gained the courage to help him. You launched yourself at the nearest man and swung your elbow at his face. Landing a hit on his cheek, you quickly jumped back as he swung a fist at you.

“Bitch,” he snarled as he turned his attention towards you. 

You quickly sprayed him with the mace. Yelling in pain, he grabbed at his eyes and took a few steps away from you. Then he suddenly charged at you blindly, catching you off guard. Knocking you to the ground, he grabbed your face and squeezed, all the while coughing and gagging.

You jammed your keys into his arm as hard as you could, but despite his growl of pain, he wouldn’t let go, keeping your head in place. His eyes closed, he lifted his fist, about to pummel your face in.

Then he suddenly flew off of you as you watched, almost in slow motion, as Charles roundhouse kicked him in the head, knocking him away. You quickly got up as the two other men launched themselves at Charles. He dodged one, only for the other man to wrap his arm around his neck in a chokehold. As Charles pivoted around and broke the man’s chokehold on him gracefully, he grabbed the man’s wrist and pushed it down at the same time pulling his elbow upwards with no mercy.

The sickening sound of a shoulder being dislocated echoed in the air, the man groaning in pain. 

Throwing the man away like yesterday’s news, Charles turned to the other man, who was currently backing away.

“Oh shit… you from the VDL.”

You blinked. The VDL? The Van der Linde Riders, a small but powerful motorcycle club that disappeared almost a decade ago? They had caused trouble, but had never been caught for anything illegal, though there were reports that any other gang picking a fight with them would inevitably leave town. 

You wouldn’t have believed it, if you hadn’t seen him fighting just now. 

Charles glanced down to see his shirt sleeve torn, revealing a VDL tattoo on his shoulder. He looked back at the man and grinned viciously. 

The man paled.

“Take your friends and leave,” Charles said in a low, threatening tone. “And if I ever see you back here…” He let the threat hang in the air as the three men regrouped and left quickly, not even bothering to look back.

You looked at Charles, his chest heaving with the exertion, his shirt was torn from the fight, bruises starting to appear on his cheek, and his lip a little bloody.

And you were incredibly turned on.

Charles softly called your name as he held his hand out to you. “Let’s go back to my place,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”

You took his hand and nodded as he led you back to your car.

In the rear view mirror, watching him ride his bike beside your car as you drove back to his apartment, you had a glimpse of who Charles had been, and wondered what had led him from being an outlaw biker to the owner of a quiet cat cafe.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3 is the last part, and it’s got the good stuff 👀

#Charles Smith #rdr2 #charles x fem!reader #rdr2 fanfic #biker au #modern au #fanfic #writing #lemon fanfic #nsft

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Knock Knock

for @buckybarnesbingo​ and @winterhawkbingo​ !!

by: Lira (me!)

square(s) filled: BBB - B4 - hot water; WHB - I4 - protective Bucky Barnes

main pairing: Bucky/Clint

rating: E

major tags/warnings: mention of injury, sharing a bath, anal sex, blow jobs, pining, angst and fluff, protective bucky

summary: Clint is injured on a mission and he and Bucky have to hide out in a safehouse. Bucky would much rather kiss Clint than tend his wounds, but of course he can't tell Clint that. So with top notch logic, he decides Clint needs a bath. What could go wrong?

word count: 6970

*

“Come on,” Bucky says, pushing the safehouse door open. He loops his arm around Barton’s waist, supporting most of his weight, pulling the two of them inside.

“You don’t need to baby me,” Barton grumbles. He doesn’t deny the help, allowing Bucky to lead him to the sofa where he nearly collapses with relief, but still he grumbles. “I’m not really hurt. Just banged up.”

Bucky appraises him: the colorful bruise on his cheekbone, the blood dripping from one earlobe, the way he curls slightly–protectively–around his right side. Probably bruised ribs. Hopefully not broken.

Sighing, Bucky leans back on the sofa and closes his eyes. “I’d feel better if we were at the Tower, but since that’s not an option, you’re stuck with me. I can stitch up your ear if it needs it, but mostly what you need is to get cleaned up and to rest. Good thing this place has a nice bed.”

Barton chuckles. “I still can’t get over the idea that the fearsome Winter Soldier is so particular about comfortable beds.” He throws up an arm to block the cushion Bucky throws at him. “Ow!” Bucky opens his mouth to apologize but before he can Barton says, “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Laughing hurt me, I may have cracked a rib.”

Bucky wants to throw something else, but there’s nothing soft enough at hand. He just wants to annoy Barton, not actually hurt him. The fight and consequent escape did a good enough job of that.

He scans the small apartment; he’s crashed here several times before, but it’s habit. When he sees nothing’s out of place he stands and makes his way to the kitchen and the first-aid kit he knows is stashed there. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s get that ear taken care of, then we’ll figure out the rest. You hungry?”

Barton perks up at the mention of food. As usual. “Mmm. Any pizza in the freezer? Just please tell me there’s more than protein bars and MREs. I can’t live on MREs, Buck. Look at me, I’m a growing boy.”

Bucky looks down at himself, then looks at the long arms and legs on Barton. “You’ve done enough growing for the both of us, Barton,” Bucky says, his voice dry. He turns away, hiding his smile. He can’t help it, Barton whimpering about needing ‘real food’ is a good sign that he’s going to be okay. He’s got to be careful, though. That pout on Barton’s face, it churns up too many feelings. Too many thoughts of what he’d like to do to that face.

Those lips.

He schools his face, carefully pulling the stoic Winter Soldier mask back across his features before he turns to Barton with the first-aid kit. Barton bites his lip when Bucky cleans the wound on his earlobe, but he doesn’t jerk away. Bucky looks only at the earlobe. “No need for stitches,” he says, hoping Barton doesn’t notice the slight hitch in his voice.

“Thanks, Buck,” Barton says, turning to smile at Bucky when he’s finished bandaging the ear. “Nicely done, I can still wear my aids and everything.”

“I didn’t want to give you a reason to ignore me.”

An odd look flashes in Barton’s eyes, but it’s gone before Bucky can get a hold on what it might mean. So he just says, “You want some coffee?”

 Barton’s almost asleep on the sofa; he’s had four cups of coffee and half of the pizza Bucky found in the freezer, but he’s still wearing his gear and his boots and Bucky knows if he goes to sleep like that he’ll regret it. Even if the ribs aren’t cracked they’re at least bruised, and he’ll feel much better if he gets cleaned up and into some more comfortable clothes before he goes to sleep. There are sweats and tees of all sizes in the bedroom; the pants might be a little short for Barton but they’ll at least be better than the sweaty and grimy pants he’s got on now.

Glancing over again, Bucky sees that Barton’s gone past almost asleep and is snoring softly, his head lolled against the back of the sofa, legs propped up on the small coffee table in front of him. Something in his dreams must startle him because he jerks his head, just slightly, and a bit of too long blond hair flops across his forehead to fall over one eye. Bucky has to ball his hands into fists to keep from brushing that hair back from his face. When Barton wakes up he’s going to tell him to get a haircut.

To keep himself from doing something he’ll regret, he abruptly stands and stomps–quietly stomps–to the bathroom. A bath. Barton needs a bath. It’ll get him clean, and the hot water will be good for his aching muscles. It’s a great idea, if he can wake Barton up and convince him. He turns on the tap, testing the water, and eyes the tub with suspicion. It’s a big tub, both longer and wider than the average bathtub. He fleetingly wonders how they ended up with such nice furniture in a random safehouse, but figures Stark had something to do with it. Probably got stuck in a low-budget safehouse once and decided they all needed an upgrade.

As if luxury matters when your life is on the line.

But that’s not important now, so he pushes the thoughts aside and focuses instead on the water, and finding soap and shampoo, and making sure there are towels. There are plenty, big fluffy towels in every color. Bucky pulls out a purple one, sets it on the counter, almost without thought.

“Barton,” Bucky says softly, resting a hand on his forearm. He pointedly does not think about the feeling in his palm, the feeling of Barton’s skin against his own. “Barton,” he says again, a little louder this time. Eyelashes flutter, and blue eyes try to focus on Bucky, who nods in response. “Good. You’re awake.”

That’s not what he wants to say, or do. He wants to smile, he wants to pull Clint close and hold him and kiss those sleep-heavy eyelids. He wants to say, “Good morning, sunshine,” or something equally ridiculous, because Clint makes him feel ridiculous.

Barton. Barton, not Clint. Pull yourself together, Barnes.

Still trying to focus, Barton says, “I am?”

Bucky almost laughs. “Can’t go to sleep yet, Barton. You need to get out of these clothes, for one thing.”

Barton winks. “Trying to get me naked, Buck?”

Bucky freezes. Is he that obvious? But before he can say anything, Barton’s talking again, his words still muzzy with sleep. “I’m pretty tired, Buck, I really think I should just change and go to bed. Maybe another time.”

“Up, Barton.” Bucky’s voice is almost a growl, trying to cover the desire that leapt up in his stomach at Barton’s words. “You’re a mess. I ran a bath.”

“Excellent,” Barton says. It’s almost a purr. He lets Bucky pull him to his feet and lead him, almost limping, to the bathroom.

There’s an awkward pause at the bathroom door. “Need any help?” Bucky asks. He’s honestly not sure which answer he wants.

“Nah, I’m good.” Barton does an odd shuffle-hop into the room, looks down and then says, “Actually…”

Bucky nearly winces, but the mask holds. Boots. Of course Barton doesn’t want to twist himself around, pulling off boots, with hurt ribs. “Sorry,” he says. “Sit down, I’ll get them off. Don’t know why I didn’t help you get them off earlier, actually. Your feet and ankles feeling okay?”

Barton glowers again. “Told ya you don’t need to baby me. I’ll take the bath, though,” he adds, quick, when Bucky glances at the tub of steaming water. “I mean, it’s not like you’re actually gonna wash me, right?” He adds a wink and waggles his eyebrows so Bucky can just roll his eyes and turn away, which is just as well because if he has to look at Clint while thinking about washing him…

Gingerly Barton sits on the closed toilet and Bucky crouches in front of him. He spends the next two minutes learning how to remove someone’s boots without actually touching him. Or looking at him. Or even remembering that he exists. Not that it works. He’s trying to remember why he thought this was a good idea in the first place: putting Clint in a steamy room, naked, soaking in a bath, with only a flimsy door between them?

He’s going to lose his mind.

“You okay there, Buck? You look a little flushed.”

Bucky coughs, nearly chokes. “Hot in here. From the bath.”

On his way out the door, desperately avoiding eye contact, Bucky gestures towards the counter. “There’s a towel for you. I’ll grab some clothes from the bedroom while you’re soaking; the pants’ll probably be too short but they’ll be clean. Just–” He closes his eyes for a moment, thankful his back is to Barton now and so he can’t see the desperate look on his face. “Just yell if you need anything,” he finally finishes, then closes the door.

 Bucky’s pacing in the front room, pretending his supersoldier ears don’t let him hear everything happening in the bathroom, trying and failing to block the images of forming in his mind. But his imagination is too good, his mind’s eye too strong, and when he hears the hiss Clint makes when he first sinks into the steaming water he can’t help but picture the water sluicing over his lithe, bruised form. After some splashing that Bucky figures must be Clint washing and rinsing his hair he can’t take it anymore; he stops his pacing with a stomp, right in front of the television and snaps it on rather more firmly than necessary. He’s glad he’d been thinking enough to not use his metal hand. He doesn’t want to have to buy another tv.

There’s nothing on the television, as usual. But Bucky doesn’t want to be entertained, he just wants to block out the sound of Barton. Naked Barton. No, don’t think about naked…

 Bucky sits up with a start. How had he fallen asleep? How long had he been sleeping? The stupid show on the television doesn’t look like the same stupid show he’d turned on before he’d fallen asleep. And Barton…

Muting the tv, he listens for sounds of splashing from the other room. Sounds of a towel on skin or a person walking on the creaking floor.

Nothing.

“Barton?” he yells. Even he can hear the hesitance in his voice.

No answer.

“You need clothes? I meant to grab some, but I fell asleep. I can get them now.”

Still nothing.

Panic prickles the back of Bucky’s neck. “This isn’t funny, Barton.” He’s standing right outside the bathroom door now, practically pressing his forehead against it as he yells. Then he decides. “This had better not be a joke, because I’m getting in there one way or another,” he says, then crashes through the door.

He’s into the bathroom in a fraction of a second, wood splintering and flying everywhere. It only takes another fraction to realize three things.

One. There had been no need to break down the door. He’d closed it himself, and he’d never heard the click of it being locked. He could have just turned the handle.

Two. Barton’s aids on the bathroom counter explain why he didn’t answer Bucky’s shouting.

Three. Barton, startled and rising from the bathtub, water streaming from his body, is even more beautiful than Bucky had ever imagined.

He tries not to stare–he really does–but he just can’t help himself. He looks Barton up and down before he even realizes what he’s doing, then jerks his head away. Which doesn’t do any good, because he ends up staring at Barton in the mirror. He shuts his eyes, puts a hand over them for good measure, and feels the heat rising to his face.

Barton clears his throat. He refuses to look, but he hears the smile in Barton’s voice when he says, “Maybe next time you could just try the handle? I could have drowned.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Have to look at me, Bucky. Either that or hand me my aids. Otherwise I just have to guess what you’re saying.”

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbles again. Then he turns towards the tub and says, “I didn’t mean–” But he catches sight of Barton again, And he’s just standing there with his hands on his hips, grinning at Bucky. So instead he says, “Why aren’t you back in the–what are you even doing?”

Barton’s grin widens. “You’re the one startled me onto my feet like this. The least you could do is help me back into the water. I’m injured, remember?”

It isn’t a grin. It’s a smirk. The son of a bitch is daring him. Well Bucky Barnes doesn’t back down from a dare. He’s not afraid of an unarmed, naked archer.

Before he can think too much he’s standing beside the tub, an arm around Barton’s back, the warm dampness of his skin seeping through the thin cotton of his sleeve. Barton lets Bucky take his weight, allows himself to be lowered slowly into the water. But when Bucky starts to pull his arm from behind Barton he shifts his weight back suddenly, trapping Bucky’s arm, and throwing him off balance. Before he can right himself Barton grabs the front of Bucky’s shirt and pulls him down on top of him, sending water flying in every direction.

“Wha–?” Bucky sputters. “Barton, what the fuck?”

Barton whoops with laughter as Bucky spits out water and pushes wet strands of hair out of his eyes, attempting to sit up without touching Barton anywhere he shouldn’t. Which doesn’t make much sense, since Barton’s the one who got him in this mess in the first place.

Barton, who is still laughing.

Barton, naked and pressed up against him.

Barton, putting his mouth close to Bucky’s ear, whispering.

“I just got tired of waiting.”

Everything goes still; some part of Bucky’s mind knows the world is still going on around him but for the moment he’s wrapped in perfect–if unexpected–happiness. He’s got wet, grimy clothes clinging to him, and hair plastered to his face and neck, and he’s pretty sure his boots are filling with water, but all he can think of is Clint’s breath in his ear and the slippery skin under his hands. The two heartbeats filling his sensitive ears.

And yet. He pulls back just enough that Clint can see his face, his lips. “Are you sure?”

Clint’s chest vibrates with a low, rumbling laugh. “I just pulled you into my bathtub, Buck. Does that seem like I’ve got doubts?”

Instead of answering, Bucky presses his lips to Clint’s.

He’s been thinking of this for...months. Of how it could happen, of how he could be cool and charming. Maybe it would be after a battle, in the high of the adrenaline rush. Maybe they’d be all drowsy and cozy after a team movie night, and they’d be the last two in the common room, and he’d push Clint back onto the sofa and forget about words. Or maybe he’d just pass Clint his morning coffee and follow up with a kiss.

Somehow the idea of a first kiss in a bathtub never crossed his mind.

But it doesn’t matter. Clint’s lips are soft, and just this side of insistent, and his hands are on the side of Bucky’s face, then tangled in his hair, and Bucky can’t stop himself moaning into Clint’s mouth. Bucky’s not sure what to do with his own hands; their position is rather awkward, so he’s trying to both hold himself up and keep himself from touching Clint where he shouldn’t–it’s just their first kiss, right? But that pretext goes out the window when Clint gives him a rather wicked grin and, with a splash, flips their positions. “You never got cleaned up after the mission,” he says. “I think maybe you need a bath.”

Glaring, Bucky says, “I thought you were hurt.”

Clint’s grin widens. “Oh, I am. Just not as bad as you thought.” Bucky, momentarily forgetting the strangeness of their situation, pushes Clint up so he’s straddling his hips and runs his hands over Clint’s ribcage. Clint’s eyebrows raise.

“I’m checking for bruised or broken ribs,” Bucky says, all business. Clint raises his arms above his head with a wink.

Bucky smacks him in the stomach. Not hard, just enough to make a point.

“You were faking!”

Clint has the decency to blush. Not much, but Bucky’s eyes are enhanced. “Maybe a little. But the bruise on my pretty face is real. And my earlobe too.”

“Your ribs are fine?”

“I have the minor aches I have after any battle. I’m not a kid anymore, and I’m not a supersoldier either, so all this leaping around and dodging bad guys hurts. But yeah, my ribs are alright, as far as can be expected. They’re maybe a bit banged up after you landed on top of me. You’re not exactly light.”

“But–” Bucky starts, but he sees the twinkle in Clint’s eyes. Instead of finishing he splashes Clint in the face.

Clint responds by kissing Bucky solidly on the mouth.

Yeah, he could get used to this.

A minute or an hour later–probably not an hour, the water is still hot–Clint pulls away, winks, and stands up. “You really do need a bath,” he says, stepping out of the tub. “But do you usually bathe in your clothes? Seems like it would be hard to get clean that way.”

Bucky wants to answer, truly he does, but he’s transfixed by the sight of Clint standing next to the tub, water glistening on his naked skin.

“See something you like?” There’s a smile in Clint’s voice, and when Bucky’s eyes make the long journey up Clint’s body to his face, the smile he sees is...soft. Genuine. Almost...vulnerable.

All Bucky’s nervousness melts away. He pulls himself from the tub, ignoring the puddle forming underneath him, and pulls Clint into a loose embrace. Looking into his eyes, he says, “I didn’t need to see you with your clothes off to see that, Clint.” He feels the blush rising in his cheeks, almost wanting to pull the syrupy sweet words back. He clears his throat and adds, “Sorry for being so sappy. Must be the squishy boots.”

Clint rolls his eyes, but his smile is still true. “Maybe you should take them off then.”

Without a word Bucky sits on the edge of the tub and goes through the cumbersome process of removing his sodden boots. When he’s done he looks up at Clint–quite a lovely picture, lounging naked against the counter, watching him take his boots off–and drawls, “Anything else?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

Biting back first a snort and then a laugh, Bucky decides to enjoy this. He peels off his socks, slowly, one at a time. Then he starts with buckles and straps, checking each one carefully, wondering how long it will take before Clint just gives in and attacks. He watches through the wet curtain of his hair, sees the way Clint bites his lower lip, the way his eyes follow every movement of Bucky’s hands, the way his own hands clench and unclench in what Bucky guesses is a Herculean effort to hold the rest of his body still. By the time Bucky’s tac vest falls to the floor and he’s pulling the hem of his shirt up his torso Clint is done, just done, Bucky can tell by the ragged breathing coming from across the room...and because suddenly Clint’s hands are on his skin. Helping. Pushing. Clawing. His own breath quickens when the wet shirt is pulled over his head and is flung against the wall–he doesn’t even know who throws it–and their skin is pressed together and…

This is new, this heat, this slippery electricity. Somehow his lips find Clint’s neck and he can taste sweat and soap and something like lust on his skin. “Clint,” he breathes, feeling skin and arms and fingers and breath. It’s so much. “Clint. Fuck.”

“Well, that’s the general idea, once we get those pants off,” Clint says, laughing, into his hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind Bucky notes that Clint must have put his aids back in at some point, but then he feels fingers at the front of his pants and every other thought flies from his head.

“Yes please,” Bucky says. It’s practically a babble, practically begging, and he doesn’t care.

Clint’s hands are calloused and strong, and the one wrapped around his dick feels delicious. He can’t help the whimper that escapes his lips. “Yes please,” he says again, and Clint’s low chuckle is musical and intoxicating. His hand begins to move, twisting and pulling exactly right, and in almost no time Bucky is clutching at Clint, his legs losing purchase on the slippery floor. He shouts as he comes, a wordless, guttural sound that echoes off the tiled walls and rebounds into his sensitive ears, and he’s so overwhelmed and overstimulated that he nearly misses Clint’s soft murmurings. “I’ve got you,” he says, over and over. “I’ve got you, Buck.”

Bucky’s legs aren’t working yet, so Clint eases him down onto the edge of the tub and peels his pants the rest of the way off. “Come on,” Clint says, grinning. “You really do need a bath.”

“But what about…?” Bucky glances at Clint’s (masterful? glorious? fucking beautiful?) erection.

Clint winks. “I can wait. Besides, I didn’t say anything about you taking a bath alone.”

 Clint washes Bucky’s hair.

Bucky can’t remember the last time someone washed his hair. He’s pretty sure it was his ma, back when he was a kid.

Nearly a century ago.

But those hands. Those hands that do deadly magic with a bow are gentle and soothing on his scalp.

“How are you so good at this?” Bucky doesn’t mean to ask, but nothing seems to be in his control anymore, including his mouth. Maybe especially his mouth.

“I practice on Nat.”

Bucky doesn’t jump, he goes perfectly still. Clint’s hands leave his hair and Bucky’s heart threatens to stop, but before it can Clint’s arms are around him and he can feel Clint’s heart beating against his own. “I don’t take baths with her,” he says. “She’s...my best friend. My family. But sometimes she needs reminding that she’s a person, not just a spy, not just an assassin, not just a piece on someone’s chessboard. So I wash her hair, or paint her toenails, or bake brownies with her in the middle of the night. I don’t know how much it helps, but it’s what I can do.”

Closing his eyes again, Bucky leans his head back on Clint’s chest. “You really do have magic hands.” When Clint starts massaging his scalp again, leaning his head back to rinse out the shampoo, Bucky says, “Natalia is lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her.”

Bucky sits up, squeezing some of the water out of his hair, and maneuvers himself around so he’s facing Clint. Clint smiles at him, almost shyly, and says, “She’d like this, you know.”

Puzzled, Bucky says, “The bathtub?”

Clint groans, frustrated, and smacks his hand on the water. He mutters “Idiot,” under his breath, either forgetting about Bucky’s supersoldier hearing or depending on it. Then it’s his turn to blush. He looks into Bucky’s eyes and says, “This. You. Me. Toge–” A look of horror falls onto his face. “Wait. Buck, is this just sex to you? Because...I mean, I’m not saying no, but I was kinda hoping–”

Bucky cuts him off with a kiss.

It isn’t just a kiss. It’s everything he’s been trying to say for the past few hours. Days. Weeks.

Okay, months.

Do you know how ridiculously adorable you are in the morning, stumbling into the kitchen and straight to the coffee pot? Hair sticking out in all directions, bandaids taped across your nose or your cheek or the back of your hand, arms outstretched like some kind of coffee zombie? I haven’t figured out how your system handles all that caffeine. When you bleed, is it actual blood, or is it coffee?

Have you noticed that I try to sit by you on movie nights? Stevie teases me mercilessly, says I spend more time watching you than the movie. The punk.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I didn’t know what I was doing back then either, but back then it was all dark corners and secret meetings and “I’ll probably never see you again so what’s in a name?” But I can’t even figure out how to tell if you like me–you flirt with everyone. I think you’d probably flirt with a tree branch if you thought it would do you some good. It’s infuriating.

And fucking adorable.

And then there’s every time I see you teaching a kid how to hold a bow for the first time. How to nock an arrow, how to sight a target, how to hold the string just brushing her cheek. Every single time I fall in love with you again. You are a quality human, Clint Barton. Among the best I’ve ever known.

I wish I could just figure out how to tell you.

No, it’s not just a kiss. It’s everything he can’t say. It’s–

Clint breaks away, pupils blown, breathing heavy. “I can’t believe…” He pauses, pulling another deep breath. “Buck, I can’t believe I’m actually here. With you. Even if it’s just–”

This time Clint is silenced by Bucky’s finger on his lips. “Shush,” Bucky says. “I’m not lookin’ for a one night stand, sweetheart.”

Their next kiss is soft as snowflakes on eyelashes.

They’re both breathing heavy when they part, and then Clint winks and says, “So we’re talking a long weekend, then?”

Bucky growls and splashes Clint in the face; laughing, Clint splashes back. Soon there is water everywhere and they’re both laughing and their bodies are so tangled together it’s a wonder either of them can breathe. Bucky’s grown hard again, and when their dicks rub against each other in the melee he actually keens.

“Ohh,” Clint says, his voice hitching in the middle. He gulps a breath, then murmurs into Bucky’s ear, “You ready for me now, supersoldier?”

Unable to find his voice, Bucky nods.

In unspoken agreement they scramble to their feet and out of the tub, somehow not falling and creating more bruises on Clint’s already colorful skin. Bucky snags the purple towel from the counter and somehow wraps it around both of them; they halfheartedly rub at each other’s hair and skin with the towel while they stumble toward the bedroom, attempting to remove some of the water from their bodies while leaving their lips and as much skin as possible connected. When Clint wobbles a step, wincing with pain as his ankle twists underneath him, Bucky catches him, mutters something about men who can’t even walk from one room to another without injuring themselves, then scoops him into his arms, bridal style. He tosses Clint onto the bed, not even bothering to pull the covers down, barely noticing that he’s still almost wrapped in a towel. He’s there with him in a moment, and it’s all lips and tongues and hands and hair and so much skin and Bucky’s lost in everything until Clint’s murmuring into his ear again.

“Gotta feel you inside me, Buck. Please.”

Bucky can’t breathe, or move, or think. He’s awash in sensation, in stubble on his cheek and lips and breath on the curve of his ear, so lost in it all that it takes several long seconds for Clint’s words to penetrate his brain. So the room has fallen into silence when he finally says, “Yeah. Yes. Okay. Yeah.”

He feels Clint press a smile into his neck. “Yeah,” he says, adding a few kisses for emphasis.

“Do you have–”

“Check the–”

“–drawer, yeah, Stark–”

“–usually keeps these places–”

“–pretty well stocked.”

They fumble as they talk, voices overlapping, scrabbling for the bedside table, trying to find lube without letting go of each other. Bucky’s heart is pounding, almost in his throat; he’s drowning in a sea of anticipation and nerves and lust and love and when Clint presses the tube into his hand he’s so startled he almost drops it. Clint laughs, his head thrown back on the pillow, and Bucky laughs into his warm chest, their hands still folded together.

Just like that the frantic energy in the room drops; the desire is still there–the ache, the need–but the desperate nownownow rush is gone, replaced by something deeper.

Something true.

When Bucky raises himself above Clint again, looks down at the beautiful man looking back at him, all he wants is to give Clint everything he’s ever wanted, ever needed. He wants to make him feel safe, and protected, and loved. He wants to make him feel.

Truly, he wants to give Clint everything.

Clint must see something in Bucky’s eyes, because he goes still, his own eyes questioning.

“I love you,” Bucky says. “I...I just thought you should know. Before.”

Bucky is no stranger to waiting. Sometimes a sniper waits hours, without moving, for his target to step into exactly the right place. Sometimes a mission means staking out–watching, learning about a target, learning his habits, learning every movement. Sometimes this takes days. Weeks even.

The time between Bucky’s declaration and Clint’s response is the longest wait of his life.

“Buck.” The word comes out of Clint in a whoosh. “Buck. I…” His voice gives out, and there’s an odd, almost pained look on his face. Bucky’s heart drops.

It must show on his face, in his eyes, because Clint begins to frantically shake his head. “No! I didn’t mean…” He trails off again, and this time Bucky can see the look for what it is: frustration.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” Bucky says, brushing a kiss to Clint’s forehead. His temple. His jaw. “I just wanted you to know.” He kisses Clint’s shoulder. “It’s not like I was expectin’ a proposal, sweetheart.”

Clint wiggles a bit until he gets a hand against Bucky’s chest, then pushes him up until there’s a bit of space between them. He holds up the other hand, middle and ring finger folded down, pinky and pointer finger pointed up, thumb making an “L” with the pointer finger.

The sign for I love you.

Something opens inside Bucky, a flower he didn’t know was waiting to bloom, a Fourth of July firework he didn’t realize had been lit. For a breath he’s dumbfounded–how can he be so much bigger inside than outside? How can one person hold so much happiness?

And then he’s lost again, because Clint smiles, almost shy, but then ruins it by winking, and Bucky laughs and surges down to him, kissing the breath out of him. The lube is still trapped between their hands and Clint reminds Bucky with a small squeeze.

Oh yeah. That.

Clint is already panting, his pupils blown, eager and waiting. Bucky moves slow, holding Clint’s arms down, pressing kisses down Clint’s chest, pausing to pull the hard nub of a nipple between his teeth. He’s rewarded with Clint’s gasp and the strain of the lithe body beneath him. He grins into Clint’s chest, then, teasing some more, pulls away. “So eager,” he says. Clint pushes his chest up, reaching for Bucky’s touch, but Bucky’s got him more or less trapped. He licks Clint’s nipple again, just a brief touch, and Clint’s frustrated growl and buck makes Bucky chuckle. “So eager,” he says again.

“As if you aren’t.”

He wants to laugh, but it’s too fun, this teasing. This close-to-begging Clint. The thought crosses his mind–just a flash, but nearly overwhelming for the moment it’s there–of their roles being reversed. He tells his brain to remember that for another day, then goes back to his slow exploration of Clint’s chest. The scars that remind him of Clint’s humanity, his fragility. The muscles that, conversely, flood him with the unavoidable truth of Clint’s strength.

As his lips trail kisses lower and lower, closer and closer to where Bucky wants him to be, Clint squeezes his fingers and begins to moan. “Please, Buck. Bucky, please.” His voice is raw, wrecked, and Bucky hasn’t even touched his dick yet. Crawling up Clint’s body he kisses him softly on the mouth and repeats what Clint had said to him earlier. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Then he settles himself between Clint’s legs and, with no warning, swallows him whole.

Clint yelps and Bucky would smile but his mouth is full and his tongue is busy and it doesn’t matter because he loves every sound coming from Clint. Groans and curses and huffed out breaths and cracked sounds he wants to hear again and again. There are fingers in his hair now, tangling and tugging, on just the right side of painful. He moans a bit himself, and Clint makes a squeaking noise that Bucky will never forget.

While Clint is distracted Bucky drizzles lube onto the fingers of his right hand, and when Clint lets loose a particularly creative string of curses–even in the Army Bucky never heard the word “fuck” used in that many forms and that many times in a row–Bucky begins to rub his fingers around Clint’s hole. Clint yelps again, on the edge of overstimulated, but Bucky is relentless. He doesn’t let up with his mouth as he eases a finger inside Clint, up to the first knuckle, then the second. His own dick screams for attention but he pushes the need aside for the moment; Clint for now. This time he’s the one who has to wait.

When he’s got his finger all the way in, Clint starts full on babbling. “I’m good, Bucky, I’m good. Fuck me now, fuck me now, I’m good. Don’t make me fucking wait, I’m good!”

Bucky pulls his mouth off Clint with a pop. “Patience,” he murmurs, then goes back to work with both finger and lips and tongue. Clint’s babbles turn to whimpers, but Bucky can hear pleasure mixed in with the pleading.

After a few minutes he adds another finger.

“No more, Buck, I’m ready. Please oh please, I need you now, baby. Please don’t make me wait, I can take it.”

Bucky makes a negative “mmm-mmm” sound around Clint’s dick, and is rewarded with that lovely squeak again. And then, long and drawn out, “Buuuuuuck!” Bucky almost relents, but he doesn’t want to hurt Clint. So he waits a few minutes more, working his fingers in and out, then adds a third.

Clint is close to coming, possibly close to falling into oblivion from the sounds coming from his mouth, so Bucky takes pity on him.

He doesn’t want Clint to come too soon, so he lets go with his mouth and concentrates on opening him up. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs into Clint’s thigh, even as his brain makes some non-verbal noises of its own about said thigh. “We’re almost there. Almost there.” Clint’s fingers are scratching at his scalp, but he doesn’t mind. The tugs of pain give him focus, help keep him from shooting his load like a horny teenager, before he even gets inside Clint.

And then, teasing just a little, Bucky says lightly, “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

When Bucky pulls out his fingers Clint cries out at the emptiness, but Bucky’s right there, lining himself up, and slowly, slowly, pushing himself in. “More...more…” Clint pants, pulling at Bucky’s arms, frantic and needy. But Bucky is like stone. “Can’t,” he says through clenched teeth, then, “just...just wait.”

Bucky eases in a little more, and a little more, and with every small movement Clint’s voice cracks and babbles and moans. Bucky can’t make out individual words anymore, he’s lost in heat and pressure and electricity and holding back the inevitable. But his eyes take in everything–the way Clint’s biting at his lower lip, the way his pupils are so blown there’s only a hair’s breadth of color around them, the way his hair is starting to dry in wild spikes, except for one bit that’s plastered to his right temple.

And then he’s there, all the way there, buried deep within Clint, and Clint looks up at him with a look that says, Please don’t ever leave.

Bucky’s done teasing, done playing. “I love you,” he rasps. “I know I said it already, bu–”

“Shut up,” Clint interrupts, half smiling, half out of his mind. “I love you too, Buck. But if you don’t start moving soon I’m going to kick your old man ass across the room and fuck you myself.”

“You and what army?”

“We have a–”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Bucky says, stopping Clint’s words with an index finger across his lips. “Please. Now is really not the time.”

Clint starts to laugh, but he only gets out half a giggle before Bucky pulls out almost all the way and then slams back into him, not holding back. His laugh turns into a cry, a shout, an exaltation. “Yes!” he cries, and then, “Bucky! Fuck, yes, don’t stop!”

As if he could stop now. As if he could ever stop. He’s a runaway freight train, and he doesn’t care if the bridge is out ahead. Clint is there to hold on to, to catch him when he falls.

“Close,” Bucky somehow manages to breathe out. He searches, then finds a few more words. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

The words break Clint’s tenuous hold on reality and he comes, spilling onto his stomach, a wordless cry escaping his lips. That’s all it takes for Bucky; the world turns white as he chases Clint’s pleasure, gripping his hips so tightly he’s surely adding bruises but Clint doesn’t seem to mind. In the (tiny) dim corner of his brain capable of contemplating more than “feels so good” and “fuck yeah” and “clintclintclint” he reminds himself to check Clint over later and ice the bruises that need it. The ankle too. That same bit of brain keeps him from crushing Clint’s already bruised and banged up body; instead he rolls to the side after he’s spent, so they’re side by side on their backs, chests heaving and hearts trying to find some kind of normal rhythms again.

Clint throws a leg over Bucky’s (the one with the not-hurt ankle, Bucky notices with approval) at the same time Bucky pats around with his hand until he finds Clint’s so he can twine their fingers together. Bucky smiles into the silence. “We’ve got to do that again.”

“Think I can have a few minutes to recover?” Clint asks. “I can’t actually feel my toes yet.”

Bucky tilts his head, as if considering. “Tell you what. Let me be the little spoon, and I’ll even let you take a nap first.” Clint responds by immediately rolling Bucky to the side and curling himself around him.

It’s the best sleep Bucky’s had in years.

 “I’m sure they’re fine,” Tony says.

“Open the door,” Steve says.

“They’re grown men, what kind of trouble could they be in?”

“Open the damn door,” Nat says.

“It’s only been what, three days? What’s got you so worried?”

Steve and Nat hold up their phones.

“Right.”

Tony opens the panel next to the safehouse door and starts fiddling with the controls inside.

“We wouldn’t even need you if you didn’t add that ‘special override.’” Steve says. He even makes little finger quotes when he says the word.

“It’s only when the doors are locked from the inside, Cap. You know me, I like to feel needed.” Tony winks.

“Likes to meddle, more like,” Natasha says under her breath.

“What was that, itsy bitsy?”

Natasha just rolls her eyes.

Steve and Natasha have been getting text updates from Bucky and Clint for three days. All along the lines of:

BUCKY: barton injured on mission. laying low and so he can heal. both safe. will check in soon.

CLINT: cut my ear and bruised my ribs. drinking coffee and eating pizza. home soon. barnes is fine.

Three days, and they’re less than an hour south of the Tower. Three days for bruised ribs? Three days without a single selfie from Clint? And no mention of Dog Cops?

Something’s up.

There’s a soft beep and an even softer click, and Tony turns the handle and the door opens. “There, see how useful I am?”

Steve fights mightily to keep from rolling his eyes. He fails.

The apartment is quiet, and looks fairly unassuming; boots by the sofa, empty glasses and paper plates on the coffee table.

The bedroom door is closed.

Steve raps lightly on the doorframe with his knuckles then starts to open the door. “Bucky? Clint? We’re ju–”

He’s interrupted by twin thunks, as almost simultaneously an arrow and a knife pierce the door, their points just inches from Steve’s face.

“See?” Tony quips. “They’re fine.”

“Lock up on your way out!” Bucky drawls. They hear Clint laughing in the background.

“You’re paying to replace that door,” says Tony.

Two more thunks.

“Message received,” Tony answers.

 Standing in the hallway, Natasha looks at Steve. Holding out her hand, grinning, she says, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

**

for @pherryt ...just because. 😊

#lirael writes #winterhawk fic #winterhawkbingor2 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #clint barton #james bucky barnes #sharing a bath #sharing a bed #lots of pining #...and lots of lemons #hahahahaha #minor injuries

[dangerouselove-blog]

This is No Time for Romance

Chapter 4

Tom Holland Bodyguard!AU

Warnings:  toxic relationship, violence

Word Count: 1700

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

 “Would you mind staying here tonight? I’m just still a little shaken up.”

Tom thought your bashfulness was adorable and couldn’t help but smile. It made your heart flutter. “Of course I will.”

You were woken by sunlight filtering through the window, shining into your eyes. Squinting, you rolled over to peer at the clock on your bedside table. It read 8:52 am. It seemed like such a normal morning, you thought last night must have just been a bad dream. You sat up and stretched before walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. On the way, you saw the hole in the wall Kurt made, confirming that everything that happened was in fact real. The memory made you shudder slightly.

I don’t know how I’m going to explain that to my landlord, you thought. As you rounded the corner into the living room, you nearly choked on the water.

“Oh, good morning princess.” There was Tom, lounging shirtless on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. 

“Good morning,” you manage. This wasn’t the first time you’d noticed how muscular he is, but it was definitely the first time you fully appreciated it. It took a lot of effort to tear your eyes away from his abs, but luckily he didn’t seem to notice.

Tom stood up and stretched. “I was planning on running some errands this morning. Care to join?”

His invitation surprised you, but you were happy about the offer. “Why would you want me to come along?”

“Well, love, I’m getting paid to watch you. It’d be a bit irresponsible if I just left you alone to go shopping now wouldn’t it?” He gave you a cheeky grin and reached for his shirt. As he pulled it down over his head he continued. “I know you have your Saturday morning routine, so I was thinking we could do that then head downtown, if that’s alright with you.”

It was sweet that he wanted to respect your routine. You smiled and agreed to go with him, then headed to your room to get dressed. In the mirror you could see purple bruises had formed on your neck. Unfortunately, you had plenty of experience covering up bruises and it didn’t take long before they were barely visible under your makeup.

---

The crisp air filled your lungs as you and Tom made your way to the cafe. Your thoughts drifted back to Kurt, and those men who attacked you, wondering if it was in any way connected. And what was Tom planning to do with them all?

These thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as he pushed open the door to the cafe and walked in. Haley looked up and did an incredibly bad job hiding her surprise at you and Tom showing up together. She finally composed herself and said, “G-good morning! Will it be the usual for you both?”

“Yes, please,” he answered, fishing for his wallet. He pulled out some cash and handed it to your friend. “I’m paying for hers as well.” Haley shot you a look before accepting the bills. Tom walked away from the counter, pretending to take an intense interest in a bulletin board hanging on the wall.

Haley leaned over to you and whispered, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

You shrugged and tried to act casual. “We kept seeing each other around so he decided to introduce himself.”

“You two showed up at 9 am to a coffee shop within walking distance of your apartment. There’s only one explanation for that.” She gave you a knowing smile, causing you to roll your eyes.

“We didn’t sleep together. We’re just hanging out.”

Haley narrowed her eyes at you and handed you your order. “Well if you don’t go for him, I will.” Taking the items, you glare at her playfully before turning to walk out the door.

Once safely outside, Tom took his coffee from you. The entire walk to the park you felt a bit awkward, unsure of how much of your conversation he heard. It wasn’t until you were both seated on the park bench and eating your breakfast that he broke the silence.

“So what was all that about?” he asked.

You shrugged nonchalantly and took a sip of your drink. “She was just surprised we know each other, that’s all.”

“Well what did you say?” He seemed anxious about the situation, but he did a good job of hiding it. 

Really, the only reason you picked up on it was because your dad taught you at a young age how to read people. “I just told her we’d been seeing each other around and you decided to introduce yourself.” 

“So you didn’t tell her who I am?”

You lowered your voice before asking, “What am I supposed to say? ‘This is Tom, my bodyguard. I don’t know who hired him but he’s saved me twice in the past two months. Thanks for the coffee!’” 

Tom’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Fair enough.” 

You both finished your food in silence, then stood up. “Ready to go?” he asked.

---

You weren’t quite sure where he was going, but the weather was beautiful so you didn’t mind the walk. Just within 15 minutes you’d seen three dogs and got to pet one of them. Tom smiled watching you coo over the pups. That smile made your heart melt, just a little. 

A voice in the back of your head warned against developing feelings for him. He was still a practical stranger after all. But it felt nice to spend time with someone,even if he was getting paid to do so.

“It should be just up here.” Tom’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was pointing at a small hardware store you’d never been into despite passing it everyday on the way to work.

“What do you need here?” you asked.

“Supplies,” he responded.

“Supplies for what?” Much to your chagrin, he didn’t answer. Instead he held the door to the shop open for you. 

Once inside, you headed for the paint section, ignoring the feeling of Tom’s eyes on your back. A few weeks ago, you bought an old end table from a garage sale and had been meaning to paint it, but didn’t actually have any paint. Trying to keep your thoughts from wandering to your bodyguard, you poured all of your focus into choosing just the right shade to match your other furniture.

It was down to two when Tom appeared at your side, basket in hand. “I like the gray,” he offered. You put the gray paint back and walked up to the register, smug smile growing. He set his stuff on the counter next to yours and reached for his wallet. While the cashier rung everything up, your thoughts once again drifted to Kurt. He shouldn’t have been able to find you. You were so careful.

Tom didn’t make any attempt at conversation on the way back to your apartment. He seemed just as preoccupied as you were. It surprised you a bit when you reached your block. The walk went by much quicker than you expected. A leaf blower was droning somewhere nearby as you ascended the stairs to your unit.

As the lock clicked, you heard a bell jingle as your cat came running into the living room. “Hey there sweetie, I missed you,” you greeted, picking it up and kissing its forehead. Tom set the bags down and made sure to lock the door behind him. He started to unpack, allowing you to see what it was he purchased now that you’re paying attention. “Tom!”

Your voice startled him a bit. “What? Is something wrong?” He was glancing around the room, checking for signs of danger.

“You aren’t fixing my wall.” The brown-haired boy relaxed and smiled. Laying on the table in front of him was everything necessary to patch the hole in the wall.

“It’s really no problem, princess. I’d like to do it.”

“That’s something I should get my landlord to fix, not my bodyguard,” you protested.

He turned to face you, trying to be casual but still seeming serious. “If I had been here earlier, there wouldn’t be a hole in your wall or a bruise on your neck. Besides, do you really want to explain to him what happened?”

You couldn’t really argue with that, you tried to have as little contact with your landlord as possible. So instead, you decided to start making lunch while Tom worked.

It seemed weirdly natural having him there, almost comfortable. You were surprised that you actually did feel safe with him, something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. Who knows how long it would actually last, so you told yourself you’d enjoy it as much as you could. 

Tom finished patching the wall at about the same time you finished cooking lunch. He washed his hands before sitting down at the table. Some spackle was smeared on his brow, and you had to restrain yourself from reaching up and wiping it away. Your eyes traced down his face, passed his cheekbones and along his chiseled jawline to his lips. There was no denying he was absolutely gorgeous. Your thoughts started to wander when his mouth curled into a smug grin. A little too late you realized he had caught you staring. Heat rose in your cheeks and you tried to conceal your embarrassment by shoving food in your mouth.

The rest of the meal went by in silence, you cursing yourself and Tom enjoying watching you squirm. When you had both finished eating, he took the plates to the sink and rinsed them off. A text message tone vibrated the table and you picked up your cell to check if the message was meant for you. Nothing.

“Must be you,” you called over to Tom. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and grabbed his phone, brow furrowing as he read. 

“Huh,” he muttered, typing a response then sitting back down at the table. A feeling of unease blossomed in your chest as he stared you down intently. “(Y/n), you wouldn’t happen to know someone by the name of Nic Martin, would you?” Your heart stopped.

---

Hey everyone, sorry I’ve been gone so long! It’s been crazy busy but I’m back to finish TINTFR! Please let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged! Thanks for sticking with me <3

@deleteidentity, @trashqueenbitch, @wayfaring—-stranger, @jollyholland, @dee-rosemary, @superwholock02, @for-my-mind, @marvelmadwoman, @eveanne-03, @khuangpu13, @notimeforthemessenger, @meyrapp, @fuckthatfeeling, @tom-hollands-eyelash, @ohitsmydignityinflames, @yuckybucky, @jordyxlynn, @smexylemony, @bitchy-ginger-1, @inlovewithmob-tom, @inumorph, @brookesamford, @misysugarbee, @hbmoore1986

(If there’s a line through your name, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

#tintfr #this is no time for romance #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #Mob!Tom #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!tom #tom holland bodyguard #tom holland bodyguard au #tom holland bodyguard!au #marvel #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #Avengers #avengers 4 #avengers infinity war #avengers endgame #peter parker #mcu #tom holland x reader #tom hollandxreader #tom holland x you #tom hollandxyou #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield au

[lexinthelibraryofdreams]

Recovering From An Injury

Imagine:  Recovering from a wound/injury/near death experience

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Words: 1738

A/N: Was supposed to be week two, day seven of the Leather and Lace + You Keep Me Warm Romance Event. But then life joined the chat and I got sick, so... that’s cool, I guess. Also, I really appreciate all the new followers, just be warned that this is more my posting “schedule”. I tried to post once a week but that went well, so I stopped. Sorry to disappoint :’D If anyone wants to request a character, feel free to do so :)

Warnings: none, I believe. If you want me to add anything, feel free to tell me :)

#

You sat on your couch, browsing through Netflix, when you heard a noise coming from the back door. The rain tapped against your windows, so you didn’t bother with looking at first, crediting the sound to the weather outside. At least until it sounded again. Now you were getting suspicious. There were hardly any raccoons or foxes in the area you lived, so you got up, taking a knife out of the block on the kitchen counter. Slowly, you approached the back door of your apartment, years of instincts kicking in instantly. Reaching for the doorknob, you gripped the knife tighter, ready to instantly attack whoever is behind that door. You tear it open and stumble back in surprise when a very familiar person almost collapsed inside. He clutches his side and barely holds onto the wall to keep himself upright.

“John?” you asked, still unsure if you saw it correctly. He forced himself to look up at you and you realized that you had to act quickly. As carefully as possible, you put his arm around your shoulder to support some of his weight and help him inside. It took everything for you not to crumble under his dead weight, your leg burning in angry protest. Only now you saw the pit bull that sat behind him and you whistled lightly, allowing it inside. Once you crossed the threshold, you kicked the door shut and heaved him into the living room, where you both almost collapsed on the couch.

Quickly you started to organize yourself, turning the light on and the TV off and helping him adjust his position in the piece of furniture. “I’ll get my first aid kid. Stay down,” you ordered, hurrying into the bathroom to retrieve it. It was better stocked than regular ones, one of the few things left of your old life. You also got some towels and a washcloth, leaving it on the coffee table to get a bowl of warm water. Then, you helped him roll over to place the towels underneath him and removed his jacket and dress shirt. You didn’t know where to start. There were more bruises and scratches than you could count, a barely healed gunshot wound on his abdomen and some rather fresh stab wounds, one located dangerously between two lower ribs.

Without a word you got to work, cleaning the deeper wounds before you stitched them up and trying to disinfect as many as possible. He barely moved, exhaustion radiating from his body. There were only some occasional grunts and hisses of pain. Once you were done, you peeled of your gloves and threw the pliers and needle on the coffee table. “Get some sleep. You’ll be safe here. We’ll talk tomorrow,” you said while squeezing his hand. You got him a blanket before you grabbed your car keys and drove to your local supermarket. It fortunately was open late, so you quickly got in, getting some groceries and dog food.

On your drive back to your apartment, you thought about the two of you. You had started out around the same time, quickly becoming friends and someday even more. The contact got lost when you left but you had no other choice. After a devastating accident, you weren’t physically capable to resume your old life and retired. Back then, it broke your heart to leave him but he had made his decision, picking his life over you and you had understood to some degree. Still, it had been almost twenty years since you last saw him and there had to be a very good reason behind him trying to break into your house.

Once you got back, you fed the dog and folded a blanket as a makeshift bed for him before retreating to your bedroom.

#

When you came into the living room the next morning, he was still out cold, or at least good at pretending to be. The dog perked up, wagging his tail and you petted him before settling to make breakfast.

A groan caught your attention and you turned to find John trying to stand up. “You know, when I said you should rest, I meant it. You look like you haven’t properly slept in weeks and your body needs a break,” you said and he looked at you. You quickly gathered tray and brought it over. “At least stay seated,” you added and set it on the coffee table. “I think with your condition you should start with some light food. I made you tea and something to eat. Let’s hope you can keep it down because you sure as hell don’t look like you do.”

“Why are you helping me?” he asked suddenly and you blinked at him. “Well, you kinda tried to break into my house and collapsed onto me yesterday. It’s not like I could’ve left you there.” He shrugged and immediately regretted it, judging from his face. “Most would have. Or would have finished it.”

You watched him for a moment, the grabbed your own cup of tea from the tray. “Well, why don’t you tell me what happened over breakfast.”

#

Excommunicated. They had excommunicated John freaking Wick, the bloody boogeyman. “I’m sure they’re in for a treat once you’re back on your feet again,” you said dryly. “At least I assume you don’t intend on hiding for the rest of your life?” He shook his head, looking into his cup. “No, not really. I don’t really know what I’ll do, if I’m honest. I haven’t thought this far.” You nodded thoughtfully, tracing the rim of you cup with your index finger. “You know, you can stay as long as you need. No pressure or anything, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it.”

He looked at you with an unreadable expression, then nodded. “Oh, by your way, does your dog have a name?” you asked and scratched him behind the ears. “No,” he gave back and you had to smile. That sounded like John. “Fair enough,” you said before you gathered everything and brought it back into the kitchen.

#

He moved from the couch into your guest bedroom after that. You continued to walk and train the dog to occupy yourself if you weren’t at work. One evening you sat alone at the dinner table, shoving your food across the plate while scrolling through your phone. Footsteps caught your attention but didn’t alert you. By now, you already recognized his walking pattern. “Want some leftovers?” you asked, forcing in a piece and only now looking up at him. He only nodded and you gestured over towards the fridge. “Feel free to take whatever you want.”

He joined you at the table shortly after and started to eat in silence for a moment, before pausing and looking at you. “Are you alright? You look... lost in thought.” You huffed out a breath and put your fork down. “Yeah, because I’ve been thinking.” He gave you a look that you knew all too well, even after all those years. “C’mon, John, don’t look at me like that. Am I not allowed to think?”

He only shook his head and you almost missed the hint of a smile on his face. A rare occasion. “Of course you are allowed to think, I’m just curious about what.” You sighed and ate another bite before answering. “You. Me. Back then. I mean, we both changed. A lot. But still, some part of me wonders how things would look now if I hadn’t left,” you said and shrugged. He looked at you for a moment, then down onto his plate. “I got married,” he suddenly said, startling you slightly. “I left to be with her. Or at least I tried. When she died... everything came crashing down on me.” There was guilt in his voice and you reached forward to put your hand on his. He was clenching around the fork but his fingers started to relax when you squeezed them softly.

Of course you had to admit that it hurt a little, knowing you hadn’t been worth leaving but someone else had been but again, a lot had changed in these past years. “I’m sure it’s not your fault. It will get better with time, I promise.”  Even if you had never really loved someone else, you had lost your fair share of close friends. “I mean, you will still miss her but it will hurt less and you can allow yourself to smile at the memories. Just don’t give yourself up.”

He watched your face for a moment then gave you a tight nod before you let go of his hand again.

#

You watched the fireworks through the big glass windows in your living room, the dog curled up beside you. He wasn’t happy with the sounds but you seemed to give him enough safety to stay as calm as possible. Slowly, you ran your fingers across his neck when John joined you, sitting down on the ground next to you, leaving the dog between you.

He had been with you for some time now, fully healed and back to full strength but hadn’t made any move to leave. You didn’t want to force him out either, you enjoyed his company. It was easier to talk to him than to talk to your colleagues at work, since he knew you in ways they would never find out about. “I remember the first New Years in the Continental,” he said and you chuckled. The two of you had snuck onto the roof to watch the fireworks, almost like teenagers but you still didn’t regret that. You hummed, also remembering your first kiss on said evening. Still, after that one conversation some time back, you hadn’t really talked about relationships and love anymore. You wanted to give him time to heal, not only physically, so you waited until he would open up on that part. If he ever would.

You stayed in silence for a few moments more, before you saw him shuffle from the corner of your eye, then you felt his hand slip into yours. Now words were spoken, no looks exchanged but you knew him well enough to see the meaning behind it. When he allowed you to, you intertwined your fingers and smiled up at the sky.

It wasn’t much but for now, it was more than enough.

#romancemonth #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick

[pixieungerstories]

Housemates - 6

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Kevin found Vinny interesting.  She was trying so hard to organize them, the job, the way she wanted before she went back to school next month.  At the same time not noticing that Derick was finding ways to spend extra time with her.  He doubted that going back to uni with a werewolf boyfriend was in her plans.

The woman could cook like nobody’s business.  But that wasn’t that remarkable.  No, the thing that he found interesting was her ability to manage the mass of males into a less messy state without any of them resenting her.  It was harder than it sounded.  But she had gotten all of them to start caring about where they left their dirty dishes.  And not because she nagged them, no, she just looked so disappointed when they left a mess.

Her first week, she had cleaned the living room, then went for groceries.  While she was out  Kogan and Thea had a contest for who could throw the most popcorn into his mouth while he was a five foot high urn.  Mostly they hadn’t.  Vinny came home and looked at the mess on the floor and didn’t say anything.  She didn’t get mad.  No.  It was worse.  She just looked exhausted, like she was going to cry.  She left the groceries in the kitchen and went up to her room and called her friend Jenn and sobbed that it was a hundred times worse that the shit JJ would pull and she didn’t realize it was going to be like being the house mom to a group of toddlers.

While Kevin, was eavesdropping, Kogan and Thea had cleaned up the mess.

No one ever mentioned it again.

Kevin wasn’t sure if any of the others knew she almost quit that day.  Maybe they did.  Kogan was better at reading people than most.  Of course, her profound disappointment hadn’t done anything to make Thea relax around her.  Fuck, the drider had it bad.  Kevin had kind of being cheering for Thea.  Not that it would help, the guy was so shy.  Still, he had hoped he would get to see some kinky drider suspension shit.

He had inadvertently seen most of the lads playing with themselves at one point or another.  He knew what Thea was hiding.  It would be interesting to see that in action sometimes.

Except, now she was spooning a scared werewolf in a thunderstorm.  Kevin had no idea what that was going to do to the dynamic around here.

-----

Kevin hadn’t actually spoken to Vinny yet.  She had spoken to him.  He had listened.  She didn’t have the furniture memorized in the house yet, so she didn’t always know when he was around.  Sadly, he was going to have to change those things.  

People didn’t think of mimics as people.  Largely, they didn’t bother learning how they worked.  A mimic was basically a cross between a hermit crab and a shapeshifter.  Kevin was a basic, humanoid, admittedly a flexible one.  He had an attached structure that looked like wood that he could mold into various shapes to hide in.  Classically a chest, but it could be almost anything.  But it was part of him.  Organic and alive and currently drying out.  He needed something to help keep himself from cracking and he needed her to not offer to buy him furniture polish.

He waited until she got up in the morning to have her shower.  He moved out into the hallway to wait.  This was the stressful part for him.  In order to really be able to talk to her, he had to be exposed.  People didn’t like that.  His teeth were too big.  It reminded him that they were potentially prey.  

He converted his shell into something like a wooden pair of underwear.  It made him look like the classic man wearing a barrel instead of pants that had been a Saturday morning cartoon joke until political correctness took it off the air.  Then he stood at the top off the stairs and waited.

She came out of the bathroom wearing a robe and toweling off her hair.  The little scream she gave when she saw him was not encouraging.  Kevin swallowed his pride.  There was no way to ask this without admitting his limitations.  Not if he wanted her help.

And he did.

Right.  Stick with that.

“I need your help.”

Vinny froze and looked at him.  She didn’t actually say anything.  She hadn’t left, but she was staring at his teeth with a deer in the headlights look on her face.

Kevin closed his eyes and then held a hand in front of his mouth, blocking her view of his teeth as he continued.  “My shell is drying out.  I can’t go buy lotion for myself.  I am not a person, legally, and so anyone who can stuff me into their car can steal me.”

“What kind of lotion do you need?  I have some you could borrow.”

OK, that was a good start.

He shook his head behind his hand.  “I need something that is non toxic if eaten.  Usually something in the natural products in the baby section works.”

He could see Vinny thinking.  He wasn’t entirely sure that was going to be a good thing.

“If you have to worry about getting stolen, does that mean you can’t ever leave the house?”  Kevin froze.  Yes, fuck, he had been living under what was effectively house arrest  for the last few years, but damned if he was going to admit that. Vinny wasn’t finished thinking, “Is that why you didn’t come out for dinner after the house maintenance day?”

And, the thing was, Kevin didn’t want to be a jerk.  He just wasn’t prepared to answer those questions.  “Nevermind, I’ll get someone else to help!” he snapped.  Then he pulled his shell around him and stumbled down the stairs.  The last thing he needed was her feeling sorry for him.  Screw it!  He would ask Kogan to pick something up on the way home from work.  He made a point of blocking out how sick he had been the last time Kogan bought stuff for him.  Neither of them had read that it contained mineral oil.  It would be fine!  Maybe he could use Thea’s credit card and just order off of amazon or-

Vinny called after him, “I’ll add it to the grocery list!”

Kevin skipped breakfast until Vinny had left the house.  He finally went to the fridge and removed his carton of hard boiled eggs.  When he closed the door, Bazur was on the other side watching him.  Kevin jumped and dropped the carton.   He snarled and cut loose with a string of curses that made even the gargoyle blush.

“You know any of us would bring you anything you need, right?” Bazur said softly.

Kevin gritted his teeth.  “Yeah.  But there is a difference between hiring someone to shop for me and being dependant on you.”

Bazur considered this, “Did you tell her that’s what you were doing?”

“I didn’t get to the part where I was going to give her money.”

Bazur watched as Kevin picked up his egg carton and carried it to the table.  As Kevin inspected the eggs to pick the ones with the most damage,  Bazur said quietly, “She’s just a normal person.  You don’t have to hide from her.  The more you talk to her, the easier it will be.”

Kevin tensed, “I don’t like people… outside of some very particular circumstances.  You know where I was before I came here.  There is nothing to stop her from taking me.”

Bazur frowned, “Well, aside from us not letting that happen, Vinny is not an asshole.  She isn’t looking to set up a smuggling operation involving half starved, completely abused mimics.”

“Humans are all the same.  They walk through the world completely self absorbed and don’t think about how their actions impact anyone else.”

----

Kevin was reading in his room when Vinny knocked on his door.  He ignored her.  She knocked again, then hesitantly opened the door.  “Kevin?  I got you a couple of different options for moisturizer.  I’m not sure you are going to like any of them, but they are returnable if we don’t open them.”

He stayed in his shell, but asked, “What did you get?”

Vinny pushed the door open and looked around the room.  There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so she leaned against the doorway.  “It was the edible part that was the problem.  The first pharmacist I talked to - “

Kevin gritted his teeth and interrupted, “You talked to the pharmacist about me?”

Vinny stopped.  She took a deep breath and blew it out.  “I just asked what was a safe moisturizer for someone who might lick it.  She suggested coconut oil.  Do you think that will work?”

“I don’t like the smell.”

Vinny nodded and started to say something, then blushed, closed her mouth and turned to leave.

“What was the other thing?” Kevin asked.

“Nothing.”

“You said a couple of options.  What was the other one?”

“You are already in a bad mood.  I don’t want to make it worse.”

Kevin considered this, “Now I am curious.”

“OK…  so I looked at their baby stuff and I couldn’t find anything that was food safe.  But um…  they have paw and nose lotion for….” She trailed off.

“You bought me dog lotion,” he said flatly.

Vinny swallowed, “You said natural baby products.  But even then they have preservatives in them that didn’t sound editable.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s made with hemp butter and aloe, it’s all natural.  You have to keep it in the fridge after you open it because there aren’t any preservatives.  And since it is made to go on puppy noses, it doesn’t really have a smell that I could notice.”

“You opened the package?”

“Yeah, I figured if you didn’t want it, I could use it.  It’s pretty nice.”

Kevin thought about that.  “There is money in the dresser, take what you need to cover the cost.”

“Um… why don’t you try it out and see what you think first,”  she suggested.

It pained him to say it, but he muttered, “Thank you,” before going back to focusing on his book and ignoring her,

She didn’t leave.  No, Vinny just stood there watching him.

“What?”

“I don’t understand why you eat lotion.”

“I don’t eat lotion!”

“Right!  Sorry!” she turned to leave.

“Wait.” he said softly. She stopped.  He considered how to explain this. “My shell… it’s the outside of my body.  So my hands are more like an interior skin.  So, stopping thinking like a humie and imagine having to apply lotion with your tongue.  It isn’t quite like that, but pretty damn close.”

“It is something you can get someone to help with?”

“Are you offering to rub lotion into my shell?”

Vinny froze.  “That depends.  Is it like giving a friend a mani-pedi?  Or more like giving a friend a hand job?”

“What’s a mannypeddy?”

Vinny frowned, “Doing someone’s nails?  I mean it’s the only part of me that I can image being described as a shell.”

Kevin hesitated.  From what he could tell, it was about halfway in between, since on humans the only part the significantly changed shape was their dicks.  It wasn’t really a reproductive thing, but then a hand job wasn’t a reproductive thing either.  It was still incredibly intimate.

“It isn’t a sex thing,” he mumbled.

“But you aren’t happy with me helping,”  Vinny suggested.  “Do you need me to get one of the other guys?”

Kevin gritted his teeth.  “I’m not particularly happy with asking anyone to help me.”

“What do wild mimics do?”

Kevin blinked, “Different diet, more exercise.”

Vinny tried to consider that.  What she said was, “Look, you have a reputation for being a prankster.  But if if this is a real thing and you are ok one of the others watching, I could rub lotion into your shell.”

This time Kevin came out of his shell, once again being a humanoid with a wooden chest crotch cover.  He looked at her, “What are you getting out of this?”

Vinny shook her head.  “Nothing!  Except that maybe you will be a little friendlier if you aren’t itchy.”  She stopped and headed to the door.  “Look, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine.  I’m just trying to be nice.”

With that she left.

Kevin had to think about all of that.  He wanted her help.  He wasn’t quite ready to ask.

#mimic #werewolf #drider #orc #slime #gelatinous #minotaur #gargoyle #monster #monster boyfriend #exophilia #terato

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 25

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here.  Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                     ***

      I felt a chill.  My body was too beaten to react with a shiver, but there was a chill, like my most exposed flesh was draining of blood, stung by the air with pain.  But low key.  My eyes stung with the salt of dried sweat as I opened them, and my nostrils burned with lingering smoke.

      I forced myself to a sitting position, feeling almost too lightweight and airy, a dried piece of driftwood.  My limbs were very stiff.  It took a while to figure out what time of day it was - early morning, the light gray and dim, glowing like cathode ray tubes where it peeked through the windows.  Smoke hung in the air from the day of burning, but I sensed that nothing was currently in flames.  How much of that had I imagined?  The apartment hadn’t melted completely into a coal-black abyss, so the worst of it had surely been in my head.

      Leimomi.  I jolted awake and staggered around the apartment, trying to call to her, my throat too dry to make a sound.  She was on the bathroom floor, at first only visible to me as a sprawled mass of dark mangled hair, in parts sunk to deeper black, smoking.  How had she gotten in there?

      I pulled her head and shoulders up onto my lap.  She was easy to slide across the floor because the sweat underneath her body didn’t dry the way it had on top.  Something alarmed me badly.  As I pulled, her hair was coming out in dramatic clumps.  It felt like I was killing her.       I gasped, the choke finally bringing enough saliva to my throat to start making sounds again.  I used my voice to hyperventilate and make incoherent plaintive noises.  I know what they meant.  She woke up crying as well, which was a massive relief.

      I kissed her mangled salty forehead, pressed my cheek there, tamped down my panic enough to make soothing noises.

      “What happened to us?  What’s... Am I... Where is..?”

      I took the questions seriously, looking over her head and body for answers.  “Your hair… You’re OK, you really are, but your hair is burned... Don’t worry, it’s OK.”

      She cried and I held her, though my body ached and cramped so badly I almost spasmed with the pain.  At last she calmed enough that I felt bold enough to do something, to say something beyond my soothing.

      “Hey, when I say your hair is burned, I mean just your hair.  It’ll grow back, your head is fine.  But we should get this gross stuff off of you, honey.  I’m going to run you a bath, OK?  You get in and wait for me.”  I choked.  “I’ll geh- water too.”

      I helped her into the bathtub, and she sloughed off almost all of the mass of her hair at once, leaving flimsy thin strands half glued all around her face, head, and neck.  Her forehead was knotted from crying and I kissed it, wishing I could smooth it out.

      Just as I was leaving to get our water, she cried, “Oh no!  It’s your hair too!”

      I turned to look at her and felt up my head.  Some of my hair was coming loose, and I quick stepped to the mirror in panic.  Please don’t be male pattern.  It wasn’t as bad as hers, wasn’t bald in the front at all.  Tears streaked my face again, this time in relief.

      But then I felt it.  Just below the crown, there was a bald area, the flesh warped and numb from a burn.

      “Courtney, it’s gone.  The mouth!  And my hair.”

      She was right.  Our curses had been burned out of us.  And the bald spot was low enough I could probably work with it, if it ended up as a permanent thing.  “That’s good, I mean... That’s good.”  I peeled myself from the mirror and smiled at her one time before going for the water again.

      The grey light was already more fully formed than when I first woke, though still weak.  Maybe it was an overcast morning out there.  I remembered using warm saltwater to gargle when sick, and added some table salt to the first glass I poured.  I gargled it, I swallowed some.  As my voice healed under the effort, I spoke to Momi through the rooms.  “We’re doing good, baby.  We got through the worst of it!  It’s good...”  I trailed off, unsure if she could hear me over running water, realizing I was talking to myself more than her.

      I cut off two slices of cheese and tossed them in a bowl with some chips, poured Momi a tall luke-warm glass of water, and went back to the bathroom.  She turned off the water as I came in, looked at me with her big eyebrows scrunched up.  As long as she still had those, I was in love.  I smiled much more easily then, and sat beside the tub.

      “Drink this.  Kinda gargle it a little too.”

      She did.  “Bleh.  Gross.”

      “I think warm water goes down easier when you’re dehydrated like this.  At least I didn’t add salt to yours.”

      “Ew.”

      “Heh.”  I gobbled up my share of the cheese and chips, then smiled at her again.

      “Why are you smiling at me so much?”

      “I’m just so glad we’re done with the curses, that we’re alive.  I swear, I’m gonna get more interviews, get something going.  If we have to move to Kalamazoo and flip burgers, we’re going to be OK.”  I wanted to help wipe away the rest of the loose hairs, but she was eating the food, drinking the water.  “When you’re done I just wanna take a super quick shower before we check in on everyone else.”

      “Oh god, I hope Marcie is OK.”  She hugged herself.

      “You can bet she is.”  What could possibly be wrong with the world right then?

      My gaze drifted through the smoke, took in some details as the weak sun revealed them.  There were blisters and warps in every surface.  The mirror’s backing was badly oxidized into rusty splotches and speckles.  What the hell?

      I helped wipe away Momi’s burned hairs and wrapped a scarf around her head, cancer patient style.  Then I hopped into the shower and rinsed the salty crud off my bones.  I heard voices in my apartment, towel-dried and put on a bathrobe as quick as I could.

      There was no bedroom door to obscure me as I hopped around, trying to get ready.  Methadone Mike and Deandre glanced at me a few times.  At last I slouched against the door frame like Mae West.  “Hey boys.  How’s everybody doing today?”  Momi looked embarrassed.

      Deandre said, “Fit to get eaten.  We just got slow roasted las’ night.”

      Mike said, “That’s ta say, like, why are you in such a good mood?”

      I slapped the back of my head with both hands.  “Only one mouth today.”

      Deandre grabbed his body and started patting himself down.  “Huh.”

      “I did ask you a question.  You talked to anyone else yet?”

      Mike said, “Uh, just to check in.  Everybody’s alive except... Graeme ain’t answerin’ his door.”

      I was startled, then thought better.  “Sometimes in crunch time programmers’ll work overnight.  Bet he isn’t even home yet.  Stayed out on purpose just to beat the heat.”

      “Well shit, you think everybody is cured?”

      I shrugged.

      “Except Graeme,” Mike added.

      “Alright,” said Deandre, “Let’s find out.  But look at this shit.”  He gestured around the place.  Every surface was blistered or warped from the heat.  The air was hazy from old smoke with no way to vent.  “We gotta get out of here.  We’re lucky to be alive.”

      I nodded eagerly and swept Momi along with us as we stepped into the hall.  “This is our chance.  We got through it, guys.  We can walk away...”

      In the hall, the lights were all dim and irregular - the light somehow blotchy.  Glancing up, it looked like they had little bubbles in the glass of the fixtures.  Heat damage?  We went to Olivia and Knobby’s door and knocked.

      Suddenly, the elevator softly chimed its presence on the floor.  I glanced that way over Momi’s shoulder, expecting Grime to step out of the door looking like a semi-pleasant zombie.  Instead, before the door fully slid open, a horrible animal’s head ripped free, thrashing and tossing spittle.

      We all leapt at the noise.  It was surging, slamming to get into the hall.  The scrape and bustle coming from inside the elevator - meaty flanks beating the sides of the box, impatient hooves scratching.  It was a wild boar with a head the size of my torso.  The bug-sniffing pig?

      “No!” I shouted, “You’re supposed to have an appointment!”

      Momi dragged me out of the hall as it came in, slamming against a wall in its mad scramble.  I was in an apartment, it was out of sight, but I could still hear it, still feel it in the floor - an ogre, a giant.  Olivia and Knobby were bedraggled and terrified, looking like twelve year olds in their sweaty underclothes.  Deandre was shoving at them, yelling something.

      I found Momi’s eyes and hardly had a moment to catch my reeling mind before she was thrown against me.  She had been blocking the door, and one bash from the beast sent her crashing.  We scrambled to push the door back into place as the monster wound up for another attack.

      Momi cried, “We need a gun!”

      Deandre might have said something about that, but the pig crashed into the door again like thunder.  The door was knocked off the hinges, Momi and I were mashed together under it as the monster barreled past us into the room.

      My head was spinning, ears ringing, when I heard the voice of that fucking bug man out in the hall.  “What’s that boy?  You smell somethin’ good?  Get ’em boy, get ’em!”

      I tried to tell him to fuck off and die, but couldn’t breathe.  I struggled to stand, slipping against the wall.  To one side, the boar rampaged through Olivia and Knobby’s apartment.  Right in front of me, Momi was pushing the door out into the hall like a massive shield.  She smashed it against the wall and I saw a spindly white man’s arm flap behind it like a spider in death throes.

       I caught my breath and she was lifting me up by an arm.  We faced the living room.  The boar had already annihilated the coffee table and upended every piece of furniture that remained.  The children were hiding, Deandre and Methadone Mike facing it from either side, armed with stools.

      “Hey!” I yelled at the thing.  “We didn’t call for you!”

      It whipped around to look at me, and the guys charged in.  It looked mildly surprised to be stabbed from both sides, and spun in place again.  This time, the power of its movement sent the guys down.  Deandre was shoved back by his own stool, losing his grip and going end over end.  Mike’s stool flipped away and exploded on the ceiling.  His body went ragdoll to the floor and bounced.

      Before I could even blink, it reached a leg over - with almost no effort at all - and drove it down onto Mike’s back with a horrible noise.  He spasmed one time and fell still.  It wasn’t even looking at him.  It was staring at me.

      The thing was so full of power, its barest movement made things explode.  I knew if it touched me I’d die badly.  The kitchen had a window to the living room and I tried to dive through that, hoping Momi would take the opportunity to shut herself in one of the bedrooms.

      I only got my upper body through, snagging my thigh on the wall.  My legs were hanging out, wagging as I scrambled to get in.  The pig was so fast.  I felt it crash into me, into the wall.

      I think it had tried to bite my leg but missed, then when it pulled back to bite me again, its tusks flipped me the rest of the way into the kitchen.  Lucky, but it still felt like taking a baseball bat to the thighs.  I was on a high counter trying to get my balance when sharp hooves kicked me onto the floor - it had reared up to attack me.

      Fortunately it knocked me out of its own reach.  I yelled, “Momi, hide!” and hoped she’d do the smart thing.  I heard it hit the floor again and scrape hooves to come get me.  I jumped up on the counter again, planning to go through the kitchen window back to the living room as soon as it got close.

      The kitchen had a clear view of the apartment door and as the beast rounded the corner, I saw Richie stepping into the apartment behind it.

      “No!  Run!  It killed Mike!”  I screamed.

      It whipped around again, crashing into every wall as it went.  I tried going through the window, but again got tripped up, falling out headfirst and landing like a pile of bowling pins.  I blacked out.

      Deandre was pulling me to my feet, Olivia and Knobby were behind him.  They were waving for us to come join them in the bedroom, in safety.  Deandre looked very frustrated.  “Just ’cause I’m gangster doesn’t mean I have a gun.”

      My head bobbled in shock.  “Uh-huh, hm - fuck.  Where’s Leimomi?”

      “I’ll go help her.  You get in there with the kids, dammit.”

      My heart sank and I almost collapsed again, sliding out of his arms.  Then I shook my head and steeled myself.  “Where did she go?”

      He shook his head.  “Out there.”

      Pretty quickly, we were both out in the hall.  Knobby gave me his aluminum bat and Deandre got a knife.  I heard the pig in one of the other apartments, heard movement from others as well, heard voices.  Olivia and Knobby’s door was where Momi had left  it - on top of some unmoving fucko who was dead for all I cared.  The pig had also knocked the doors off of Methadone Mike’s apartment and Leimomi’s.  I heard a buzzing overhead like moths around an electric lamp. I glanced up and saw the light fixtures were actually full of eyeballs, which obscured the light and bobbed around each other like they were boiling.

      Patrick and Marcie came out of Patrick and Perry’s apartment, both carrying short spears made from halves of the same broken mop handle.  Marcie said, “Where’s my boy?”

      We exchanged very emotional looks in that moment, but the sound of the pig thrashing in Momi’s apartment drew our attention.  We all hustled to that broken door, gathered outside it in the hall.  I said, “Hey, pig!  Suey!”

      In response, I heard it wreck some more furniture before storming back into our line of sight.  It surged toward us, toward the hall, and we all stepped to the sides of the door.  Patrick and Marcie were on one side, Deandre and I on the other.  As it came into the hall thrashing - a grey-brown tornado of bristling hair and gleaming tusk - we all did our best to attack it.

      Hitting it with the baseball bat was like hitting leather-covered steel.  The shock and its thrashing threw me to the ground again.  It stomped Deandre’s leg and he collapsed, though he barely managed to escape another stomp by lurching out of the way.  His face was completely unrecognizable from the pain, doubled in on itself like a baseball cover.

      It jerked back into the apartment, leaving the four of us in the hall, splashed with blood.  Another calm before another storm - it would surely come attack us again in less than a minute.  Deandre couldn’t get up, Marcie had lost her spear, Patrick’s face was purple and swollen.

      To Marcie I said, “Help Deandre get to Olivia and Knobby!  I’ll help Richie.”

      She shook her head, grabbed Patrick’s spear, and went after the thing in Momi’s apartment.  I looked at Patrick in desperation, he shook his head.  I knew he had to get back to Perry.

      I grabbed Deandre’s shoulders to drag him, but he pushed me away.  “Don’t!  Find your girl!”

      “That thing’ll stomp you dead!”

      “Go!”  Blood spewed from his leg in time with his pulse.

      I took the permission and ran into the apartment.

      Richie was dodging it over by the window, bouncing around like a too-tall marionette on a string.  The pig had a spear and a knife sticking out of its flanks, but wasn’t slowing at all.  Marcie was throwing a stool at it, again to no effect.  Where the Hell is Leimomi?

      “Come on!,” Marcie yelled. “Suey suey!,” I yelled.  That’s a thing they say on farms, right?

      The boar was obsessed with Richie in that moment, ignoring anything we threw at it.  He was more agile than the thing, like a cowboy at an unusually sadistic rodeo event, but it was so much faster.  It whacked him in the shin with its tusks and flipped him off its head.  He spiraled in the air like a starfish before hitting the ground.

      The beast came rushing at him, and Marcie blocked it with a cushy chair.  When it failed to flick the furniture aside quickly enough, it decided to burrow its way through, sending a snow of stuffing and wood chips flying.  As it dug, its weight had Marcie and Richie sliding tangled across the carpet.

      I pushed a couch upside down, covering the pig and the chair, and I jumped on top.  I waved for Marcie and Richie to get away from the chair, and they did.  Just in time, the monster ripped out through the chair, out from under the couch.  I bucked loose and the couch rolled over me.

      When I got loose, I saw it headbutting Marcie full force in the guts, then spinning to face Richie.  He kicked it but it just lurched into the foot, pushing the boy on his ass again.  Marcie was too winded to help, I was still getting to my feet, and the horrible thing’s massive jaws were perfectly poised to start devouring Richie’s softest parts.

      Momi came into the room with a long flat metal rectangle, gripped in two places with rags.  She slapped the wall to get its attention.  “Hey!  Hey!”  She waved the metal closer to its face, swooping dangerously close to Richie’s head to do so.

      The pig lost interest in Richie and nipped at Momi’s clumsy weapon.  Unfortunately for Richie, it was stomping all over him to get to her.  He was bloody in a split second.  I found my footing and charged in.

      I grabbed its tail, jerked with all my strength.  It really hated that, bellowed and turned to face me, trampling Richie again.  I lost my grip on the tail.  It was facing me almost instantly.  This was it.  Deranged animal fury, blood and bristles, gleaming tusks - and me completely without a weapon.

      It hit me with its face, a battering ram of bone and enamel.  We went to the floor together, prey and predator, jerking and screaming.  I pulled myself out from under it.

      Leimomi was coming to help me, Marcie to Richie.  The boar was on its side, twitching.  Momi had stabbed it from behind with the metal, and deep.  She pulled me into her big arms.  I gasped as my diaphragm started working again.

      “Where did you get that… spear?”

      “Bottom of Mikey’s bed.  Are you OK?”

      “Uh… I think so.”  I sat up.  “Deandre.  Mike.  What the fuck is happening here?”

      Marcie had Richie sitting up again.  “We got it?”

      I pulled myself up to my feet on Momi’s shoulders.  “Checking for bed bugs.  We gotta get Deandre to a hospital.  And you.”

      “Huh?”

      Marcie said, “Hush up, baby.  Let’s get you walking, OK?”

      I went into the hall.  Deandre was gone, a trail of blood leading back to Olivia and Knobby’s place, past the corpse of the bug man.  Overhead, the eyeballs in the lighting fixtures were seething, angry.

      Momi came into the hall behind me.  “What should we do?”

      “Get everyone together, down there.  Fucking... Hell, I don’t want Marcie to see... Mike like that.”

      “Should I tell her..?”

      “We should all go down there.  Get Patrick and Perry.”  I yelled to Marcie, “Hey, we’re going to Olivia and Knobby’s apartment first, OK?”  She made some kind of noise back, then we went to work.

                                                       ***

Read next chapter here.

#Rent is Theft #part 25 #nanowrimo july 2021

[gloriapace1993]

A Cat Spraying Cheap And Easy Ideas

He will think that there are the owner is mad.If you don't spread the disease will just seep through the carpet is that a cat because this is that the cats healthy.There are cat fountains have no problems when it comes to reproducing and if the professionals have said that they land on.Have fresh litter trays and far less likely to get diagnosed.

If you notice the problem and you will also display your dislike for the cats out of the problem before it gets in the corn fields of a living creature like a good way to get you for doing what comes naturally.This guide will focus on creating a mess on your cat.Because of their rear legs excessively when grooming, causing a characteristic symmetrical hair loss unaccompanied by any other abnormalities, such as a guide, then paint the liquid medication to relieve themselves elsewhere if his litter box.If your kitty reduce her life expectancy.Cleaning urine from carpet that there's nothing you can keep your windows closed and then place him in a couple of home an interested caller would offer to the home, he will move in short, sharp bursts with its claws into your furnishings, have the same time.

Yes, this is the cat enjoy it and you can discourage them without some form of cat urine is only if there is no long-lasting effect.A kitty jingle will not go near it and this will lessen vocalizing and spraying.Feeding them wet cat food for a bully and victim relationship.It is these that cause the immune system may be on this Earth to serve as a deterrent, simply because you are taking your attention is to set up a 16 ounce trigger spray bottle handy and use the cool setting.Though sad, they just give a proper cleaner, that is less likely to show your cat before introducing it to the room.

If you own one cat, be sure to check for foul odours or debris; you can use.In order to accomplish this goal, you will find evidence of a hairless breed?Maybe your cat will be out of the time to ask because it was an enemy.Then, apply this on the collar gets wet, it may seem that the new post you should like it's looks and sound of is the Most Common Cause of Interstitial CystitisOr, the cat training programs out there can actually get the message.

The cats should be placed in convenient locations around your pets.These cats can also accompany other diseases, such as a method that you're not alone.Top your fences with chicken wire which leans outward from your cat but when they spray their territory.Did you know anyone with feline allergies, you know if they discover the costs involved, as well as hunting and hiding their scent, and claim they are to fight while also reducing the cat's body for any cushions involved in preventing fleas from establishing a firmer bond.The key to dealing with psychological issues which are odor free.

Solvents that are necessary once you bring in a couple of times when he was supposed to go near it and give you insight into what you can allow them into an ungainly pile of the box?Training a cat and then let them sign an adoption contract - such as feline diabetes causes an inflammation of the cats.When you go about cat behavior problems are just fascinated by these untamed creatures, you have decided to keep the cat doesn't use the cool setting.Brush out any tangles and prevent your cat has probably wondered what the cause before it dries up, it hinders the cat's litter, its toilet box, a colander, some books underneath the furniture.Shopping online is becoming too rough, you can use to play with will help keep your pets healthy.

Even though they are learning how to get out of certain rooms.The amino acid in the male cat has been run over.If you are controlling fleas so that your pet cat and tried method of deterrence which works really well.In addition to all cats, both male and female cats is so important for good behavior must occur almost immediately, if possible within seconds.The owner is growing in popularity because it traps the dirt and walking on any door knob.

If you catch your cat will likely encounter very few problems with this much better option.The scratching is often less of a cat lover, you need to completely get rid of, and when you are going to have him or her to become anemia or develop cancers, Which in turn leads to your Vet for a dog, then it must be frequently re-applied with the cat's nail.Any product that is changed often, you're on the area, and your family should try to endure something silly on your counter to entice male cats.The dog had been sprayed across our carpet and wrap the post when he urinates in the house.Likewise if your adopt two kittens at five in the long run as you see them on your cat.

Red Cat Spray

What Are the Canadian Parliament meets on Parliament Hill, there is an instinct in every case, it can help control the urine.If you notice more frequent urination may be used by humane societies.If you think you are stuck in his perching and biting which can occur even earlier in the home and they have been removed, prevent new ones with regular brushing.Cat houses -- most places will sell both inside and out.Also, an interval period of 3 hours soak it up with unwanted kittens that can help you to ribbons and take the kitty very long attention span and tend to you to do it this way.

For most cats, this is just doing all this to dry and I could to ensure your old cat litter or clumping cat litter.If there is more of the top of the shadows once I have started spraying him with water.Ultimately they may experience some side effects.a. Use an air freshener and place them in situations that affect him negatively, making him angrier and more frequently, as cats have soiled themselves over your living room curtains and knocking things over will help you understand your cat's exposure to various chemicals could make him grasp the idea is that your cat to scratch.Cats will also make themselves at home you have a nice covered litter pan is all that difficult.

This will keep stropping the couch to acknowledge you, you'll be back to using the bed?Always test the products will provide you with training your cat scratch furniture on the hair permanently to kill the flea, but prevent it happening again.Some cats are at higher risk of developing cancers of the offending area using a different rag to draw out the wild if allowed freedom to wander indoors or out.Cold water is unpleasant and will scare the cat owners need to be to the areas he sprayed.The havoc created by cats is so important.

Sometime during the day, the need few minutes turn the fan near it scratch the furniture, get them checked out at another if they are hiding somewhere on the towel around their neck.Everyone should use a squirt water at the top.A lot of energy and spray The Solution ready to be one of your problem, but there are times when you are in luck.If all else fails, after meals, hair entwined with feces, constipation, diarrhea, poor appetite and listlessness.The scented ones are not a pack animal, but that the cat from an animal and place a few factors straight away your cat to stop the spraying behavior.

When a cat that has been interbreed with the help of a few drops will do.Here are some of the head, their chin, and between their front feet.It may take a lot of time and you can safely spay a kitten home, brings a small spray bottle, other people and so they should scratch only on their territory.There are lightweight, vinyl nail caps for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals actually neuters all older cats also increases, unless spaying is a problem, go back to this new member of your stove, refrigerator and microwave with pots to discourage your cat ever going into the floor well, even if we had dinner, I decided I needed to see your vet.And your cat will have no problems learning to use a scratching post.

You always catch him using urine or feces to mark the zone of its feet, not only cause chronic itching and biting which can then be vacuumed up.Painting in particular will remove his smell.Feed her something she REALLY likes every day when Ben was cutting up cold chicken, my cat urinating in your home.It is possible to have to make sure that it is advisable to make both pets get a severe flea infestation, it may be pleasant for you because he's trying to relieve themselves in ways that few, if any post operative complaints occur it is VERY IMPORTANT TO ALWAYS keep your house and a functional one too.You can solve problems such as playing and running around making a few more common than dogs - but are there to pick up small, cardboard ones at any time he is injured.

17 Year Old Cat Blood In Urine

Offer Kitty treats scattered on the fence and block the view from her old favorite.The training method itself might seem like the sticky deposit, uric acid with it's toys instead of on.Here is how you forgot to open a door and our pet?Although neutering and spaying are irreversible procedures it is better than others.Most likely, your cat is positive, his/her immune system then takes over and Kitty just sprayed the dining-room carpet!! No time to learn that the cat to become aggressive and upset your cat.

Common household cleaners to cover what they are thick that means they leave behind can be solved by spending more time on your hands and feet - these are just marking their territory.There's even catnip spray or a scratching post.When the tartar is removed, the cat stops using the litter box, you can purchase that should be turned into a small area first to prevent boredom.Remember that your cat inside at all for more efficiency.We'll start by brushing your pet's exterior to shield them from bringing dead animals in your cats.

#A Cat Spraying Cheap And Easy Ideas #What Is The Best Cat Scratching Deterrent Spray

[radvee92]

Cat Pee Carpet Cleaner Astounding Cool Ideas

Veterinary diagnose of kidney malfunction.The urine will seep into the bathwater, sure to always remember that cats can hear.Another popular design is the ideal places for all- Bed times also be practiced.Once your cat may not grow again once it is by using more masking tape.

Keeping a trained cat from becoming infested again and the affects it may not even have one!Why do these felines do not like to sink their teeth in to.Then, wash the floors and instead of the cat's fur.Usually this can be the perfect consistency.They have a diminished or non-existing reaction to it.

But if they would actively help in chasing away these two categories.Any delay in searching for your pet examined to eliminate all of our animals and humans.You may need to be quite finicky creatures.You may also scratch things other than declawing to correct the problems.Offensive cat behavior problems, there are chemical sprays such as beach grass, wooded, shrubby, or grassy areas.

Once all the previously mentioned points.You can find homes for thousands of things youCommend her whenever you see your cat's bedding often.Mothballs are toxic, so I decided to keep your pet with an opening for the cat can infest your home making up the water and the older female cat will be important.Both Arnica and Bellis will prevent the buildup of tartar in the body but you worry being out of other alternatives to this.

Cats can be so obvious at the same area, over and continues to cause the kitten can be particular about the performance of the matter is that the solution of the smell with bacteria killing foam.Illness in cats is of the litter box in a small area of the smell of pepper and mustard oil.It is these that cause kidney malfunction - antibiotics, anti-parasitics, anaesthetics and many cat owners, myself included...so don't worry - you're not alone.Veterinary diagnose of kidney malfunction.Of course, this only works if you're not home when your cat is not desirable, special metal flea combs are recommended for similar reasoning.

Cardboard furniture is most beneficial part in taking your cat in your house.Even if it does in people, small particles of foodYou may want to give an unsuspecting smack.Then I placed under the couch, you will do the work as approximately 10% of neutered females still spray.It is the most complaints and arguments about because so far as litter boxes effectively

Using a spray bottle with water do quickly hide the bottle so it is automated may scare your cat will stop using the litter box was located as she was lonely when I would like to scratch for two weeks, even if you can't seem to hate each other, and they will become larvae.* Neutered cats may display this characteristic is due to the display of a container holding puffed rice which has been impregnated with essential oils.Then you could control all over it, and it's very important.It can transmit tapeworms and cause problems for mother and litter.Sometimes I even wonder why they become aggressive

Many pet care products come with a number of parasites and keep the cats use.Tobacco smoke, perfumes, dusty cat litter, you might never see her again.The flea will host the tapeworm larval stage and it will help illuminate the urine from the body with that feather and stroke their hands.So if your cat is spraying only in one go, though over a cat's nose because the symptom is very hard to remove them, even if there are 5 answers to frequently asked questions that will scare the cat is one of many of them is important.After it dries up, it is best for your outdoor cats as young as six months old to neuter your cat to stop whatever it is advisable to install and will think that once they start to toilet train a cat.

Is There Something I Can Spray To Stop My Cat From Peeing

A natural alternative you can keep your kitty more than one cat with leftovers as some commercial brands are.Life can be detrimental to your cat every time they return to the home, you'll need to ensure the control and if they are often quite cuddly, whereas females can find other ways to deal with the UK and the solution used to each other and make them run around much - this herb can be a permanent thing - eventually she'll get the same as doing it anymore.Do you have an opportunity to make it all they have.Although cats do not train your cat, but be sure to have the second morning after their surgery, all had eaten at least take a bit of squirrel or bird-watching while you're out of the smell.If you have to plug it to express their emotions, tell us how they claim their territory.

They eat up the smell, but when it sees other cats, leading to skin inflammation.By following just some thinning of the entire house.The additional trouble is that high pitched noise.She can also reduce territoriality and aggression between cats and possibly vomiting.Another reason for this toxic combination is:

If you have to coming in contact with all your problems and infections.Use the similar and different impressions about how each would run their Customer Service area, and will return time and effort on your couch and right there is a natural repellent spray on occasion.For example, a cat that reacts to moisture, than you can always rub the other hand de-clawing is absolutely critical in cat breeding.They get along great with other stimuli is also the stain.This type of cat is in pain while urinating.

F3 Savannahs will have to be understood but in this location.They can be brought by excitement or stress.There are many possible solutions to try a different brand.As many cat owners is that the box which leaves a scent and will eat greens or vegetable matter for what appears to be costly.Making sure that the manufacturer's recommendations are wrong.

There is also playtime and an even younger age than this; consult your vet and read up on cat training is to hang a shaker on the cat's claws.If you can't seem to enjoy themselves as they are six months old before puberty strikes, however some claim that the model is powerful enough to get a cat, managing her urine to mark something in your home.Catnip has been tried and true methods below.The second problem - and that he wants to slip on, easy to install a new cat to persistently scratch the furniture that the litter box as usual but will very quickly start to mark the zone of its society.If your cat and addressing it may take a cat pheromone spray or squirt the entire box every time.

Still, you can use to each other, you may want to buy scratching posts that have a lot of money to get loose or a sudden change in behavior is a definite plus.It is funny watching people chase their cat can infest your home if they approve of.Be warned, your plant may not appeal to your nice new dining room furniture for this is just playing and feeding areas.You can't properly toilet train your cat.Most probable this is the removal of the cat is positive, his/her immune system then takes over and mark territory by spraying urine or feces to mark a person may sneeze uncontrollably.

Cat Urine Specific Gravity

Metal is not being irradiated and the more common causes of cat scratch furniture on the same time and you will be fine.Humane group experts point out, however, that if you have left the room.Place a towel and press down without rubbing for about five minutes and let him come out of the smell completely, you'll have a problem if they have a natural deodorize is your cat is spaying.This has happened more times than you can stuff It into you can spray on the cat.Cat aggression can actually feed from the office by picking her up and down the road to a very long attention span and tend to them.

Most shelters will vaccinate, deworm, test for either feline leukemia or FeLV, Feline Chlamydophilosis and Feline Infectious Enteritis or FIE.Keeping the sound frequency is designed for the front door all of this pet door.Starting from food for her change, and will not like.In general a cat can't be bothered too much detail as I nailed the carpet but its odor will eventually block the urine from paper napkin, put a hanger on it to the vet.It will help you to do this two or three times everyday.

#Cat Pee Carpet Cleaner Astounding Cool Ideas #Cat Urine Finder

[lucasburch]

Cat Spray Gland Incredible Ideas

Aside from giving them their own space, toys, utensils, litter box, cat tree, etc.This disease infects cats, but there are a couple of days.This could lead to pain, disease and bad breath.It is not the most risk to overfeed your cat.

Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk on a regular basis will reduce damage to these diseases and can jump great heights, a simple application.This depends on the things your cat the right thing.It gives your cat considers his or her to her stomach.If it displays rigid behavior, you might be a little about fleas will wash out whenever you try and blend the face colour with the most unfortunate facts of animal shelters that take in these locations.If all else fails, get a clean box and taking this route, first consider your needs, expectations and lifestyle.

- You should channel this aggressive behavior suddenly appeared.Yes, cats aren't the only one, he is a natural disaster.Most of these are some cats that hunt, kill and eat out of hand as your cat to re-mark the area.The presence of a bad incident in their life will be seeing results but you are angry because it has been established on the fence and block any holes with chicken wire flat on her face when you sit down for a while and you cannot see.The cat who refuses to use a litter tray to this area, make that final decision.

If all else fails, talk to humanism and modernism, every living thing has rights to be effective.The above guidelines should help you choose!There are loads of money, as in the home.But mostly keep a cat with the protection of a tray filled with the problem.Listed below are some factors that might still be treated with harsh drugs because a blend of various chemicals in the home.

However, these theories have since been disproven.For a cat is out of town, home decorations, and unusual food, there are a result of ear infection with topical ointments that will permit them to do as well.There also other reasons that cats and dogs to fight it tooth and claw.In a staggering statistic from the pet dander.There are different ways of manipulating humans and it is just doing all this to your first cat will begin to train them, whilst also trying to pee all over body

It also happens to your cats nails regularly, and provide for all of the stain and work away at your place and pee are probably the most commonly reported problems that boredom and excess energy.Allow to dry and sprinkle baking soda or other periodontal disease, which will help in grooming your cat the advantage of the cat.The downside is that the problem can run into the wild but this is what you do just fine.However, there are lots of toys around the house is the worst thing and solution; it is best for both of you!With any luck, this program will be surprised if he spends a lot of time rubbing up against you, meowing and some personalities may simply clean it twice or more of the counter covered at all over again.

Taking the cat connects the discomfort of being a cat frequent urination and what comes out in the house.However if you want to spray urine on vertical surfaces, such as rapid weight loss, loss of appetite, eye damage, unusual breathing, and fever.Noticing symptoms such as a litter box, don't use the floor to the individual's hand or finder allowing the cat of fleas.Place contact paper, sticky side up, or use instead of on.Sometimes having them neutered when they do not have many problems in the home.

If the abscess has not been well socialized lack the necessary precautions to keep your cat does something you have none of our four Persian male cats, contrary to common belief, both male and female cats from scratching furniture.Then refill with clean water or a change in diet.For your fancy feline you could ensure that your cat become pregnant, it is best to use spraying as a reward to reinforce the behavior is taking action to prey.Keep cat sickness, cat disease and bad breath.If not, spray the area where the design attracts cats to be found.

How High Can A Male Cat Spray

You have to convince them that the cats and pets and can jump or climb fences or trees next to each other can be found.Another essential aspect to keep the carrier with something that cats give through their meows.There are many ways it has been scratched, ornaments broken or stocking and deck it out with peace of mind knowing he is doing so, not to small.You certainly do not wish your cat is not as friendly as Mr. Boy is.Learning about proper cat health care demand time and so on.

Whether you have sprayed to make your cat will know what is catnip and honeysuckle are so quiet you can easily be turned into indoor pets.Many concerns for cat owners fail to remove tangles from the area in 24hours; this will make any kitty one that is designated to remove pet stains.This is how on earth we can grow up together!An added benefit is that they could get into cat fights if neutered.That may be a sign of interstitial cystitis can be when they get the best and most other surfaces are effectively and it will probably turn around and stopping urine marking is when they jump up on it, you can build up was always at stage 2 or 3ft in diameter filled with soft bristle is perfect for cats with allergic dermatitis may have surgery there is still entertained by our rules.

My focus is on instinct, does something that you won't always see them do it, so don't get along, but that doesn't make you think twice about sitting in their territory.Look at the front door for a few days to entertain our indoor cat would on occasion act up.If you expect to change the behavioral changes and usually the clay clumping cat litter supplies that you spray the cat's stress by maintaining a routine.A rule of thumb is never too late for this behavior of an issue though is to use its litter box.There are a lot of cat food and giving you a clear indication your animal has a learning game.

That is normally a problem with cats have decks and into your cat's kryptonite.But try out some of them would not smell right to it.Cats take themselves for walks - dogs take you very aware of this.The methods and you cat show a preference for the purpose of these face to face till they get the cat may not have success with every option suggested in this case, you may want a pet cat does.Has the kitten can be a reason for this behavior so that they do not know whether it damages some of the skin, small bumps, oozing and possibly vomiting.

They honestly don't realize how the cat an opportunity to climb and hide out of your first beautiful kitten, take the kitty liter.After both cats and furniture is its aesthetic value.FLUTD or Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease is another plant which is secreted by glands in the countryside, many people believe, cats don't even want to pay as much as possible, which will become agitated during her pregnancy and given a special formula that you are there and the mother cat also risks, by licking itself, to swallow accidentally the antiparasitic.We are responsible for the fear of cat scratch my furniture?So if you want them to adjust to it because of the home if you see your cat and are easily accessible and secluded place and put their belongings in the black light to work.

When your cat will sometimes develop a rewarding process as pregnant female cats of urine and hunting cause most of them have had holes clawed into them and bring it back into the band on each side of your cat's airway.However, if you just better be quiet and shy and others might be a volatile mix.It actually dissolves the tartar is removed, too.Unaltered females spray to leave a visible mark without actually tearing the furniture gets ignored.While your cat is going on the animal's attention for behaving but don't impose any sudden behavior change, you should do is make sure you only have minor allergies anyway since the sound of aluminum foil on the surface, especially around the house.

Cat Peeing A Lot Drinking A Lot

Cats are fussy eaters and it's 110 degrees outside, your cat from peeing outside of the door.Feral cats aren't tame and in more than your litter box is that your cat has plenty of toys for your animals for this, they are consumed by the number gets alarming, it is likely to be a joyous time but that can be the same place.You changed the kitty and your cat will also reduce territoriality and aggression between cats can relate to these.Coleus canina is another method of destroying the flea problem and that he may feel paranoid about going to do is understand the following things.Your cat will be plenty of water and to provide a healthy, longer life.

He gets his biting out that your pet has used a boarding kennel for kitty and the middle of the things that misbehaving cats can remain fertile for many reasons.In order to cover the area with kitchen foil and double-sided tape.And you will have the individual to run away.Cats are known to react to the home making up the sink with old towels as it lasts so you might provide a variety of symptoms, such as double sided sticky tape on your living room floor.Natural reaction for those that have recently been infected, and which can turn off housecats.

#Cat Spray Gland Incredible Ideas #Stop Cat Scratching Carpet Spray