𝕄𝕒𝕫𝕖 ℝ𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤

Chuck - Part 1

A/N hey my peeps. So I just thought I should share this. Bit of background first, I always make drafts with short descriptions of what I want to happen in that chapter. I just found this one from a while ago and all it said was, "Chucky baby cuteness." ...yeah. Pretty sure I wrote that at 3am or something lol. Anyway, enjoyyyy! Be sure to give me more ideas or requests! ♡

"Chuuuck!" I whisper in a sing-songy voice as I peek over the edge of his hammock. "Wakey, wakey!"

My baby brother lets out a soft moan and rolls onto his other side, no intention of getting up.

I sigh with a roll of my eyes. "Fine then," I say to myself. "I offered to do this the easy way, but you chose the hard way. This is on you."

"Waaaaake up!" I shout, giving the hammock a hefty shove and causing it to flip over completely.

Chuck squeals as he lands with a loud thunk on the dirt and I take that as my cue to run.

"What the bloody shuck was that for?" Newt's tired voice comes from the neighboring hammock.

"Sorry Newt!" I shout behind me, glancing over my shoulder to see my brother pushing himself to his feet. "You should be up anyway!"

"Y/N!" The British voice calls after me. "It's my day off!" He moans.

"Well, I'm sorr- eeeee!" I squeal as a pudgy little boy with fantastic bedhead tackles me to the ground while I'm distracted.

"That," he pants, "is what you get."

I spit y/h/c hair from my mouth and roll out from under him. "Jokes on you, now that you're tired, I'll beat you to the Homestead and you know what that means!" I taunt, scrambling for footing as I start off at a sprint again.

"Y/N! I swear, if you take my bacon, I will literally murder you and feed you to the Grievers! That bet is not still going!" Chuck screamed, his face ruddy with a combination of exhaustion and fury.

I grin widely. "If it's not still on, why are you running?"

"Y/NNNNNN!" He draws the last syllable out for a long time.

As I make it to the picnic tables where the other Gladers are eating, my eye flicks to one of the Gladers in particular. I cast him a shy grin and forget what I'm doing as I admire the art put in front of me. When he treats me to a smile in return, I about melt into pieces. He's just so... effortlessly perfect? Hot? Kissable? All of the above, I settle upon.

Someone clears their throat and I break from my trance. As I tear my gaze from my crush and towards the noise, regret pierces my belly in addition to the hunger that tortures me. Chuck stands at the front of the line with a plate in hand as Frypan plops three strips of bacon onto it. Chuck's face is redder than usually and he's panting, but his eyebrows are raised in pride.

I clench my teeth and march over to him.

"Maybe if you would stop drooling over your boyfriend you would be getting bacon." He adds some disturbingly realistic puking noises at the word boyfriend. "Good ol' tortoise and the hare story, isn't it?"

"You better watch your mouth unless you want me to slap that grin right off it," I threaten as I grab my own plate. 

"Violence is not the answer, Y/N," he says, waggling a piece of bacon in front of my face while scolding me. I bite into it.

"HEY!" Chuck screams. "That's MINE!"

I stick my tongue out with the half-chewed delicacy on my tongue. "You want it back?"

"NO," he growls, "but I will take this." My little brother scrapes my bacon off my plate and dumps it on his own.  Then he runs. Smart boy.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" 

Chuck plops his plate down on the picnic table where a disgruntled Newt innocently eats his own breakfast with his eyes half closed. Both me and my brother ignore his presence. Chuck picks up his butter knife and holds it out in front of him as if he's a gallant knight protecting a helpless damsel in distress.

"I won it. Fair and square. It's mine."

"Give. It. Back."

"I grabbed it first!" He whines. "And you said-"

"I gRaBbEd It FiRsT!" I mock in a squeaky, baby voice. "Well, shuck that! I was born first!"

I make a grab for the bacon, but Chuck blocks me with his pudgy body. I dart to the other side to go around him and he matches my steps once again. We go back and forth for longer than I care to admit, all the while, Newt watches in amusement while chewing slowly. We continue to ignore him. 

Chuck puts his hand to his waist as if a gun is holstered there. I grin and do the same. Slowly, oh so slowly, we walk in a circle. Our eyes stay locked on each other like a western show down.  My back presses into the corner of our table and I silently applaud myself for getting to the bacon without him knowing. 

Chuck jumps, pulling out two imaginary guns from his imaginary holster. I copy him once again and wait. Wait. Wait anddddddddddddd-

I spin around, grabbing the growing stack of bacon from off Chuck's plate and lick it all.

"HEY!" Chuck cries. He leaps onto my back, wrapping his legs around my hips and his arms round my neck. 

"HA! Now it's all mine! You can't have it!"

"Probably would do ya good anyway, Chuck," Newt drawls lazily.

Chuck acts as though he didn't hear him at all and continues to try to wrestle it from my grasp. Somehow, he lowers himself to the ground and the bacon ends up back on the plate. Slowly, he reaches out and picks up a piece, shiny with saliva. And bites into it. 

His face is so stoney and serious that I can't help myself. I bust up in hysterics and he quickly follows.

"But seriously," he chokes through the giggles, "the bacon is mine."