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creedslove · 11 months

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DESERVE IT - PART TEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: you are forced to hear what Manu has to tell you, and a surprise at the office makes you rethink your relationship with Javier

Warnings: hurt, angst, offenses, fluff, mentions of smut, sexual tension, jealousy and more angst

A/N: sorry taking so long, I was sick and I was caught up in a sudden Agent Whiskey vibes that got me distracted from Javi and Joel 🥺

Also, I think it's pretty obvious I have no idea how the DEA office works in the show, so in my story, I picture it as the station of B99 where there's the upper floor department which is the DEA and the lower floor department that it's the station, lol

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

• PART FIVE

• PART SIX

• PART SEVEN

• PART EIGHT

• PART NINE

5.3k words

When Manu left his home that Sunday morning, he was determined to face the man he hated the most in the world.

He wasn't sure how he began hating that man, but it had something to do with the moment he joined the police enforcement in Colombia.

He was a typical american guy, looking down at everything in Manu's beloved country and always thinking he was above all.

Maybe it was his smug smile, those stupid tight pants as if he'd been trapped for over a decade or how the office girls swooned for him. He hadn't exchanged more than two or three words, but whenever they had some mission concerning Escobar and the DEA dogs, that motherfucker walked around with that attitude, as if he was better than anyone else.

Manu just hated how pretentious he was, how he swore he had all those women on his feet. Most of the time, he did, but the women he had on his feet weren't the kind of women Manu liked. They were usually cheap, easy girls, or literally prostitutes. And then he saw you.

You were possibly the most beautiful woman Manuel had ever seen in his life, you were always sweet and kind to everyone, politeness and efficiency were something everyone from the office noticed, you treated everyone equally… except for maybe Colleen, it was noticeable how you couldn't stand her, but no one could actually blame you as that woman was kind of annoying. Manu watched you from afar every day, since you began working at the station. He liked admiring you, he had never spoken to you, but in his mind, he was sure you were a beautiful person, inside and out. He just didn't understand why you seemed to be attached to Peña's hip, you weren't a cop, you weren't his partner and you certainly weren't his girlfriend, as the word on the street said Peña didn't do relationships.

And yet, you gave him the heart eyes, you were always laughing together and very often you giggled at whatever he had said.

Manu was always confused as to why someone like you, could orbitate around Javier.

Then, Carlos initiated his weird obsession with you. He still went after the girls in the office, but you seemed to linger longer in his mind. One of the reasons was that, just like Manu, he also couldn't stand Javier. And winning one of his girls would be a great victory for him. And also because you never gave Carlos the time of the day, and it drove him mad. Not many women refused him, but you did, so when flirtation didn't work, he turned his aim at you, and tried making you the office's joke, which Manu immediately put an end to it, when he was around at least. He didn't need people gossiping around and distracting themselves from work.

So he just decided not to listen to any of that gossip and remind himself that everything that came from Carlos was pure shit.

And then you were transferred to his department, and when he met you, he knew he'd made the right choice by not letting any gossip about you influence him. You were everything he'd dreamed of in a person and just the fact that you actually took a liking on him, was enough to show Manu that sometimes good things happened.

During your brief relationship, Manu never really liked the fact you were once so close to Javier, but just as he had his own past relationships, you did too, besides, you were always so honest when you said you didn't have anything with him, you two were friends and nothing else, and well, as for Manuel, he had no reasons to doubt you.

He was bothered ever since he woke up the day before, he'd spent a wonderful night with you, you had finally had sex, he was staying at your house and that must've been a big deal, right? But once he woke up, he heard you whimpering and moaning in his sleep. He smirked happily, assuming you were dreaming of him and possibly wanted another round of him.

So he trailed kisses around your neck and your shoulder, which you sleepily welcomed with more moans, but then he heard Javier's name coming out of your lips.

Manu didn't really believe it at first, he must have misheard what you said, and even after he questioned you and you explained yourself saying you were just telling him good morning. Once again, he believed you, he had no reasons to doubt you after all.

Then when you both got to the barbecue, he couldn't help but have that characteristic feeling of hatred and anger spreading through his body. The mere presence of Javier caused that. Everything about that guy bothered him, made his skin crawl and the fact he kept his stupid, ridiculous sunglasses on all the time pretending he wasn't eye fucking you, was driving him insane.

Manu couldn't lie about the fact he was a little disappointed when you asked him to go home, he loved every minute of the night you had spent together and every fiber of his body was longing for a repetition of that, he wanted to do it again, to have you lost in his arms, being in so much pleasure you couldn't help but being loud as hell. However, he didn't want to overstay, if you were asking him to leave you had a good reason, and for the third time, Manuel Herrera believed in you because he had no other reason not to.

When he woke up that Sunday morning, he sighed as the side of the bed you were supposed to take as your own was cold and empty. He hoped he could wake up to your sleepy, smiley face, but that was not happening. He got up and made himself breakfast, taking his time to think about your relationship and smiled at himself, he had something good going on and he wanted to assure things would continue that way. An idea crossed his mind and after debating it with himself, he decided to do it, as there was a slim, but consistent possibility it would work out.

He saw himself driving to the place of the guy he hated the most in the whole wide world: Javier Peña.

At first he hadn't planned it very well, but it was something pretty simple, he was going to talk to Javier in a straightforward way, no beating around the bush, he was just going to straightforward ask Javier to leave you alone once for all.

He wasn't trying to control your friendships, but he didn't trust Javier and since you seemed to have been so vulnerable towards him, he thought it could be a nice request, a fair request, even. Especially since Javier had been treating you like shit for months, Manu thought it would be a decent idea. First he was going to knock on his door, have a chat with him and then he would go to your apartment, kiss you on the lips and take you out for lunch.

He stood in front of Javier's door, knocking on it and as soon as the door opened, he recited the words he'd rehearsed in his mind, until he went completely silent at the image of you, standing there, naked underneath that shirt and Manu's world was forever changed by that.

At first, it took him a split second to recognize you, he'd eyed first the naked legs and only then his gaze went up until the confirmation of who it was hit him harder than a train running right off the track. His first assumption was that it was just another hooker opening the door, but when he realized it was no one but his own girlfriend, it felt like the ground had disappeared from under his feet.

"Manu?" You whispered in shock, he was literally the last person you thought that would knock on Javier's door. You were even holding his badge, being sure Javi himself returned to get it, but not your boyfriend. He just stood there, with a shocked and horrid expression, he didn't dare say a single word, instead he saw as your lower lip trembled and your eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Manu" his name was nothing but a ghostly whisper coming out of your lips "I'm so sorry…" you began your apologies but he didn't want to hear any of it.

He ran his hands through his hair, in frustration, pain, heartbreak.

"How long, Y/N?" His voice was steady, he really thought it was going to break, show you how gutted he really was, but to his own surprise, it came out as emotionless as it could be.

"Manu, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for anything to happen, I was gonna go and talk to you later today, explain to you what's happening, I know I hurt you, but I don't want you to hate me…"

The way he stood there, not moving, not speaking, just staring at you was worse than if he was throwing a scene. So far, you had only met the good side of him, the side that was docile and sweet, you had no idea how he'd react to the shock of catching you red-handed.

"How long, Y/N?" He repeated himself "how long have you been double dealing like that? How long have you been cheating on me with Peña?!" He raised his voice and grabbed you by the arm. His grip wasn't painful but it was strong enough so you couldn't simply break free from it.

He took you inside Javier's apartment and closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to experience that scene.

"I-I haven't been with Javier for long… it happened last night, but I was gonna talk to you Manu, I swear. You are a great guy, and you deserve someone good to you, someone who doesn't hurt your feelings and can love you…" you explained, as you couldn't control your sobs, too many feelings flooding you all at once, finally the guilt and shame you had been lacking appeared. It was completely different now, at the light of the day. During the night, you'd been so caught on in your feelings for Javier, he was arms length close to you, he was right there, you couldn't resist, and your boyfriend… well, at that moment he was just an idea, a thought pushed away to the back of your mind. But now, Manu stood there, flesh and bone, right in front of you, anger and disappointment all aimed at you, and he was right in every single aspect. What you did to him was inexcusable, you couldn't even try to justify… what could you tell him? You couldn't resist Javier? You were carried away in the moment? You loved Javier and the whole reason why you dated Manu in the first place was because he made you forget your heart break for a little while? Would all those excuses be enough for you if the roles were reversed and you just found out your boyfriend had spent the night with the woman you hated the most in the world? You knew it wasn't enough.

"Ay, eres tan dulce!" He scoffed and looked at you, before turning around and taking a good look at the apartment "even when you were bouncing on Peña's cock you were still worried about my feelings… aren't you a great girlfriend?"

"I'm so sorry Manu, I never meant to hurt you, I really care for you, but we are not right for each other.."

"I'll give you one on that, querida, we are definitely not right for each other, because unlike your new boyfriend, I don't go out with whores" he said in a low voice "you know, Carlos always said you were one of those, a whore, a tiny little stupid girl who ran after Peña like a puppy with stupid heart eyes in hopes one day he would pay the slightest attention to you, and I always thought he was wrong… but now, I see he was absolutely right. I just came over to have a small chat with him, about you, by the way! So he would leave you alone, and I find you here, playing housewife, cleaning up after his mess, look at the way you are dressed, for fuck's sake, I've seen Peña pick up prostitutes wearing more clothes than you are right now! But I guess Carlos was right, you are not only a bitch, Y/N, but a real stupid one… out of all the men you could get involved with, you go and choose Peña?!" Manu laughed softly "I don't usually have hard feelings, and to be honest, if I could I'd wish you to be happy with him, but the problem is that I know you won't. Because he is an asshole, he's a manwhore, and you and your tight little pussy aren't gonna be able to keep him to yourself much longer, eventually he'll grow tired of you, and he'll go after other whores to seek the pleasure you won't be able to give him any longer, so I just know for a fact you won't be happy with him, but it's fine by me, because you deserve every single heartbreak he's gonna put you through, Y/N" Manu said giving you one last glance, a glance full of despise and walked out the door, leaving you alone with your guilt.

Now, if Manu had slapped you across the face, or kicked you in the guts it would've probably hurt less than his words.

You knew he was right, you couldn't even try and argue, he was just right. You had played with his feelings, used him in order to feel better about yourself and pretty much just to make Javier jealous.

You felt so ashamed of yourself and you wanted to curl up in some corner and disappear, everything he'd told you echoed through your mind. You didn't regret your night with Javi, not in a million of years, but now you saw you could have handled things better, not only that, you should have handled things better, that was the bare minimum. Manu never deserved the heartache you put him through and you would live with the guilt of that.

You walked back to his bed and curled up under the blanket, you wanted him there, you wanted to assure yourself he was real, what you two had was something worth screwing up your relationship for, but at the same time your ex's words were haunting you. Was Manu really right? At some point, would Javi just get tired of you?

You didn't know when you fell asleep, but you certainly did so while you were still crying, and only at the smell of Javier as you buried your face into your pillow was able to calm you down.

•••

Now, Javier was annoyed.

He wasn't just annoyed, he was pissed off. If he were trapped in a room with Steve Murphy and Pablo Escobar chances were he would shoot Murphy.

Javi felt he had been ripped off a dream, he'd spent the perfect night with you, the woman he loved and craved and he had made plans to spend the perfect day with you.

He would bring you breakfast in bed, sit next to you and enjoy your company, maybe share a cigarette with you. Then, he would invite you to shower and play with your tight, sweet and beautiful pussy there, kiss your body and soap all over it, so his hand would be a lot slippery when he explored your body.

Taking you to bed, he would probably rail you, and god, he wouldn't save any of his fantasies, he would have you on top of him, doggy style, topping you, it didn't matter, he just wanted your body against his, he wanted to spill inside of you and keep you to himself.

Then, as a gentleman, Javi would take you out on a date and finish this perfect Sunday buried balls deep inside of you once more. But then, Steve began knocking on his door like a madman demanding Javi to go check on La Quica information that led to nothing and deprived him from a whole day of you.

He wondered what you were up to, though. As he drove through the streets of Colombia and pretended to hear Murphy's words, as he blabbered about his wife, his kid and his life. But Javi's mind… ohh that was elsewhere.

He licked his lips and focused ahead, but all he could think of was you. He wondered if you went back to your place, if you'd changed clothes… what if you were on his bed, legs spread and fingering yourself thinking of him? The thought made him groan and his jeans get a little tighter.

"Wow, pay attention, man!!!" Steve suddenly said as Javi had run the red light and nearly hit another car.

"Jesus… sorry" Javier mumbled as he got back to his senses, your sweet pussy nearly got him killed, he smirked at himself.

It didn't take much longer to get home, he was just so eager to see you. Javi was convinced you were getting ready for your date, maybe he should have bought you some flowers? He wasn't sure, he hadn't been on a date in ages, what if you didn't like flowers? Was it possible? Women usually liked flowers. He could always get some on your way to the restaurant, it didn't really matter, he just wanted to be near you.

He barely paid attention to Steve saying his goodbyes and got into his apartment. He knocked on your door first, but as he had no replies, he went to his own, maybe you were still there.

He silently walked inside, and headed to his bedroom, he called you in a low voice but didn't get an answer, he didn't like that silence and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be taken back to his pop's ranch, he was sure he would never be welcomed by silence, instead there would always be music, laughter and giggles, coming from his loving wife, you and your babies.

He shook his head, he couldn't keep having these thoughts, it was too damn early for that, he didn't even know if you relationship would last. He wanted to, of course, but he also knew you deserved better, so if you ever found someone really good and would like to be with the new guy, Javi was sure nothing could be done.

But those self loathing thoughts died the moment he found you in his bed. You were still in his shirt and his heart clenched at the image.

You were just so relaxed, so gorgeous, and he smiled at himself. It felt like a whiff of new air, leaving the suffocating feeling he constantly had in his life, his job and just going home to something good. Suddenly he understood what his dad meant, fuck, he understood what Steve meant. It was about having something to come back home to.

Javi got rid of his shoes and sat next to the edge of the bed, he admired you, your hair, your body. You were everything Javier ever wished for, and he was aware it was too much for him, but it didn't matter at that time.

His hand went for your hair, caressing it gently, seeing how you barely moved in your sleep. His hand ran down your back this time, he stroked you over the shirt, and saw how it rolled up, exposing your cheeks. He bit his lips, your ass was so perfect, so gorgeous, inviting, it was a sight that would always drive him insane, but at that very moment, he didn't want to touch you inappropriately, he wanted to feel you closer. He lowered his body and sank his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, it smelled like home to him. Javier chuckled at himself at how pathetic he was, you definitely put him under your spell and he loved every single minute of it.

When Javi wrapped his arm around you, you shifted and raised yourself startled as you didn't even remember falling asleep in the first place.

You turned around and saw him, he looked puzzled, confused even, but you didn't care. You just threw your arms around his neck and pulled you for a real tight hug. You tried controlling your tears, but it was hard. That heaviness in your chest wouldn't go away, it seemed every time you took your breath something stung inside and it was like a pool of tears were being contained by a thin curtain that was about to burst at any minute.

Javi just held you, keeping you in his embrace as tight as he could, though he immediately demanded to know what was going on. Through his mind the worst possible scenarios ran freely, he gulped thinking of what could've happened to you, fuck, for a moment he feared even someone from Los Pepes had tried to harm you in any way, but when your shaky, low voice professed the name of your now, ex-boyfriend, everything made sense.

Truth was, Javier was so drunk in love, he spent his afternoon living in a world where only you and him mattered and only you and him were a couple. No one else existed, no else was in the picture, so of course he forgot about Manu's pathetic existence, and consequently, also forgot you were going to talk to him.

"Shit baby, what happened? Did he hurt you? Did that motherfucker harm you? If he touched a strand of your hair I'll go over there and I'll fucking kill him!!!" Javier raged, though you didn't seem physically bad, he didn't trust Manuel at all. But your head shook and your grip got tighter around his body, in a clear sign you didn't want him to leave at all.

So he patiently waited. He rubbed your back, pulling you so close you were now on his lap again, and for the sweet coincidence of having you on top of him like that for the second time in less than twenty four hours, he smiled. With the exception that this time you were the one who needed to be comforted.

And eventually you started talking.

You told him in details, how you noticed Javi had forgotten his badge and you were just so sure he was the one knocking on the door. You told him about Manu's shock, how silent he was, until how he crushed you with his words.

But you didn't stop there, you looked into Javier's eyes, not hiding your tears and told him how every single word Manu had told you was right, how guilty you felt and his heart shattered, as he had no clue on how he could help you.

Javi cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears with his long fingers and pecked your forehead.

"Guilt is painful too, when you have conscious, it hurts to deceive someone you care about. I'm sorry it is eating you up alive, cariño, but the damage is done and all I can tell you is that I'm here for you… maybe it's too soon, maybe it's stupid but if you want to try, I want to try, we can make something out of this situation… maybe what he talked about last night, about the ranch, about leaving our jobs, maybe it could happen.."

Javier's eyes were so hopeful, so full of expectation you couldn't even believe in yourself. It was just too much, too many feelings overwhelming you, crushing you and he was there, wanting to date you.

Oh my god, the date.

You were supposed to go on a date with Javi, and there you were, crying your eyes out because your ex barked a few mean words to you.

You felt so angry and so tired, you could feel another wave of hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but his soft touch snapped you out of your crisis.

"Come on, princesa, let me get you home" he said in a calm voice, helping you out of his bed and crossing the hallway with you. It was funny how close you two were living and how easy it was to just come and go.

He closed the door to your apartment behind him and once more cupped your cheeks, holding your head in place and making you pay attention to him.

"You need to rest, you're too nervous… it's just a lot of emotions, I ain't no expert, but I guess it is making you suffer, so you should take a shower, put on some of your own clothes…" he pointed at his own shirt that covered so little of your beautiful body "we can just go on our date tomorrow or some other day, there's no pressure… I can also stay tonight, or not… you can think about that while you shower" his voice was calm and he just walked you to your room, opening the wardrobe and picking you something he thought you would enjoy wearing.

That was some domestic Javier Peña you didn't think you would ever witness. It made your heart warm, melting slowly and you suddenly felt like your chest had been cleared away, like a wave of good, positive feelings were going through your veins and for a brief second, that known feeling everything would be alright.

You didn't even bother looking at the clothes he pick vced for you, instead, you just got rid of his shirt.

"Javi?" You whispered and waited as he turned around, you rested your arms on the side of your full naked body, a little nervous, not sure what to do with them, as Javier stopped everything he was doing and stared at your gorgeous, naked body.

He had touched you, and he had eaten you out, sure, but it was dark the night before, he'd seen you but not as explicit as he was at that moment, and he loved it.

He could feel his cock twitching in his pants and didn't hesitate in walking to you, arms around you, pulling you for a deep kiss.

You corresponded to it, wanting his body on yours. It wasn't enough, you were craving him just as much as he craved you.

"I want you to shower with me, Javi… please" you begged against his lips, though you knew you didn't have to beg, he would take you right there and then if it were to him.

As you helped him undress, you both jumped at the phone ringing.

You ignored it at first, your hands unbuttoning his painfully see through white shirt, giggling as you kissed along his jawline and down his neck.

But then the phone rang again, and again and at some point, Javier sighed annoyed and broke the kiss, walking to your living room and picking it up. He didn't care if it was your mom, your dad, your sister or Pablo Escobar calling you, he didn't make any efforts to sound remotely polite, he just wanted whoever was calling you to stop.

"Oh, hello agent Peña… I've been calling your apartment but I had a gut feeling you would pick up Y/N's phone…" Manu's voice greeted the man with a sinister excitement, he sounded way too happy for someone who had just found out he'd been cheated on.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to interrupt your night, but as Y/N might have mentioned, I got the evening shift at the station tonight and we made an arrest… now our prisoner is asking specifically for you, to see if you can help with the release"

Javier's blood ran cold.

What if they'd arrested someone from Los Pepes, that would explain why that son of a bitch was probably grinning as he talked on the phone. In fact, the whole call was weird, it sounded like a trap to begin with, but he'd called and asked for Javier himself, and not for you… so he didn't really think Manu would try and do something against him, then yes, you confirmed he had the evening shift that Sunday, which meant he might have been telling the truth.

And it also meant Javier would only find out when he got there.

At first he said no when you insisted on going with him, even if Manu had come up with an evil plan, Javi was driving towards the office, there was no problem, there were always so many people no matter what time of the day, so he couldn't really try to do anything against him. But Javier wasn't comfortable with the situation, what if it was indeed someone from Los Pepes, he didn't want you to see it, to witness it… it was humiliating, embarrassing even. But then you gave him those beautiful puppy eyes of yours and he had to give in, he always did when you begged him right.

As you both arrived not later than 30 minutes, you both saw Manu waiting at the door, he was in his full uniform and smiling big as he realized you'd come along. Just like he had planned.

He greeted you both good evening, which was ignored as Javier rushed inside, getting to the cells as fast as possible, you followed him right behind, being also tense and curious to know who was the mysterious prisoner.

"So, as I was trying to say, the prisoner is an old friend of yours, Agent Peña…" Manuel couldn't hide his excitement as the two of you stood in silence.

"JAVIIIII!!!" a squeaky voice came from the inside of the cell, where the prostitute was being held.

"G-Gabi?" Javier stuttered, swallowing hard as he looked from you to the woman.

Gabriela used to be his favorite girl to go to when he needed a hand… or a mouth… or any other part really. He'd spent quite a lot on her services over the years and the two of them had the closest thing Javier could call a relationship before you came along. He'd paid for her services, enjoy them and she would still linger around for a cigarette or two, there was even a time she ended up falling asleep next to him, and they only woke up in the morning, and of course, she didn't charge any extras.

Manu saw your jealousy expression and felt so much joy. He had predicted Javier would screw things up with you, but he just had no idea of how fast he would do it. Even if Manu was enjoying every single second of it, even he thought it was kind of ridiculous how quick your fantasy of living a happy life with Javier was falling into pieces. Because even if he did get his shit together - which Manu and everyone, even you deep down, doubt it, would you still be able to deal with his past?

Manuel grabbed the key and opened the cell "here it is, the person you requested, ma'am" he bit his lip to try to hide the smile the moment Gabi dramatically wrapped herself around Javier's neck and began crying into his shirt, telling him a sob story of how one of her clients refused to pay so the situation turned into a whole scene and the cops were called and she was arrested even if it was unfair.

Your stomach churned at the scene and you tried your best to remind yourself Javier had a life before you, a very busy one, but would that be frequent? From time to time you'd have to handle ghosts from this past like that?

When that that woman who knew your man better than you did, intimately, more than you did, wrapped her arms around his neck, you knew you had enough for the night, not only for that, but for the whole weekend.

You turned around and walked out of the station.

____

A/N: so I guess Manu's "revenge" was pretty satisfying, wasn't it? I told you guys I wouldn't turn him into a bad guy, and idk to me he had all the right to call reader that way and he could've done it even worse but I guess he's just a good guy after all. And then he had a little help from destiny and now we gotta wait and see what happens next!!! Tell me what you guys think of this chapter besties ❤️

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esamastation · 6 months

Text

Part forty-three of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two,

"No, it was more like this? Legs bent more, and feet like this, yeah? I remember it because he corrected me on it, I had my foot aimed inside too much, and I wasn't in balance."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he corrected me on that too…"

Kunsel looks between the two SOLDIERs, Second Class Keyes and Third Class Alme, both holding the same pose. "Okay, that's good, hold like that for a moment."

It had taken all his savings to buy a camera on short notice, especially one of the instant cameras, but it was well worth it. With it he managed to capture most of the Training Session second hand, photographing the other SOLDIERs doing what Sephiroth had taught them in that frantic session.

While the pictures develop, Kunsel takes out his notebook. "Okay, what did he say to you, exactly?"

The notebook is already full of quotes and lines from Sephiroth, some of them verified by other SOLDIERs word for word, others contested. The information and the pictures would soon be gathered into one easily distributable leaflet - already, most everyone he'd talked to wanted copies.

"When do you think it will be ready?" Alme asks eagerly.

"I think I got around to everyone - just James and Zadrian left," Kunsel says, adding final notes to the quotes. "They're out on a mission. I'll throw together a mock-up once I've gotten around to them."

"Let me know when, I'll proofread it for you."

"Will do," Kunsel says.

"Heads up," Keyes says. "It's the last batch."

Kunsel looks up to see the three SOLDIERs, the most recent ones to have been called into the labs, heading towards the lounge area. "Hey guys. Everything good?"

"I failed my affinity test," the youngest says while the others shrug uncomfortably. "I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Yeah," another one of them says, looking worried. "Does this mean we can't become Seconds?"

"No, no, the tests are for something else," Kunsel says reassuringly. "Some new thing they're trying. Everyone's going through them, and I don't think they will affect regular injections."

"Sunder passed the test, and he's having a time," Alme comments. "So I think you maybe got lucky."

"Oh, okay," the other Third looks a bit uneasy. "Um. I'm going to head out, I really need a shower. I'll see you guys later."

"Yeah," the quiet one agrees, and they head off together. The Third Class that spoke first waves them off but sticks around, looking worried.

Kunsel hums and glances at Alme. "What's going on with Sunder?"

"I don't know, but they've barely let him out of the labs," Alme says, a bit uncomfortable. "There are all these injections, and they want to keep him under observation for every one. Raiton and Decker are in there too."

"And a bunch of cadets," Keyes adds.

They're all quiet for a moment, uncomfortably aware of the fact that a lot of cadets are way below the usual recruitment age, because the SOLDIER program doesn't have a recruitment age, and trying for SOLDIER is an easy way to get to Infantry early.

"I guess whatever they're looking for, it's easier to get before SOLDIER Mako injections?" Keyes mutters.

"Or they just have a bigger pool of candidates," Kunsel agrees.

The youngest SOLDIER in their little circle looks confused. "Shouldn't that be a good thing? Aren't they coming up with, like, improvements to the program? Maybe the cadets will get better injections than we will."

There's another uncomfortable silence. "Maybe," Kunsel says slowly.

The rumours of Sephiroth going all glowy before the Incident have been going through the SOLDIER floors, and it's not exactly a secret that it was something new and incredible. The fact that the Science Department is taking bigger interest in the SOLDIER program all of a sudden is without question related.

And there's the rumour of Sephiroth having been given an extra large dose of Mako just before the Incident. Everyone knows Sephiroth's Mako injections are the highest in the program. For anyone else, they'd just give them Mako Poisoning. If the Science Department is trying to recreate what happened to Sephiroth…

That's not something you can just talk about though.

"Genesis isn't happy about it," Keyes points out.

"The Crimson Commander?" the young SOLDIER asks excitedly. "Why not?"

"Well. Because. Uh." Keyes throws a helpless look at Kunsel.

"He's just worried the Science Department is getting a bit…" presumptuous and careless and injection-happy, never a good thing for the SOLDIER program, "... overzealous with their… improvements."

"Aren't improvements a good thing, though?"

Clearly the kid has never heard of the early days - when some SOLDIERs developed Mako stones in their insides. Or the ones that had to be put down. "We just hope they take some caution," Kunsel says awkwardly in face of the kid's confusion. "Mako isn't something you should throw around willy-nilly."

"... But isn't that what Shinra is all about?"

Kunsel laughs, and he's not the only one. "Ain't that the truth," Keyes says and claps the kid on the shoulder. "I gotta go get some sleep - I've got a night mission coming up. You got everything you needed, Kunsel?"

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck on your mission."

The SOLDIERs disperse, aside from the youngest, who stands there, still confused, scratching at the back of his head.

"I don't get it," the young Third Class says. "Did I say something funny?"

"Kinda," Kunsel admits with a smile. "Don't worry about it. You're pretty new, huh? Part of the last group that passed the candidate process?"

"Yeah! My name's Zack," the kid says and offers his hand. "Zack Fair. Nice to meetcha, sir!"

"Just call me Kunsel." They shake hands. "Are you getting the hang of everything alright?"

"It's been a bit weird lately, but yeah," the new Third Class says. "Mostly me and the others have been running around in the slums, taking out monsters."

That's what most Thirds do, yeah. "And how is that going?"

"Eh, I guess it's fine?" Zack shrugs. "I mean, we were given swords and stuff, and it's not like the beasties down there are much of a challenge. I come from Gongaga, and lemme tell you - after Touch Mes, everything else is easy."

Kunsel blinks at that declaration and then snorts. "Touch Mes - you mean the… frogs?"

Zack gives him a disgruntled look. "You don't know what they do, do you?"

"Well, I've heard about them…"

"They put you to sleep and then you wake up as a frog," Zack says. "They are a menace and the worst thing you will ever fight."

Kunsel laughs. "I guess you're well prepared for SOLDIER then, having already gone through the worst."

Zack grins and then gives him a curious look. "So, uh, why were you taking pictures before? Was it for some kind of magazine?"

Kunsel looks down at his notebook. The pictures have finished developing, showing Alme and Keyes striking poses. "Kinda - it's for a tutorial I'm putting together. You wanna take a look?"

Ducklings and a puppy

#Fanfiction #ffviir #ff7 #svsss #kunsel

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letsgetrowdy43 · 9 months

Note

Can you make a part 2 to the Quinn and Honey fic? Where Quinn apologizes and it’s just fluff

Late night fights continued ☆—

Warnings: a little sexual innuendo at the end, nothing explicit

Au Masterlist!!

The first part!!

Honey rolled out of bed with a frown on her face as her hand reached out for Quinn, instead, she was met with the cold, unoccupied sheets. Her stomach dropped as she remembered the contents of their argument from the night before, the tension she knew she was going to have to deal with until they figured out a happy ending to their predicament. Hayden let out a quiet cry as she rolled from her back to her stomach, kicking her legs in the hope of her mom picking her up.

Honey wiped the sad expression off of her face as she made her way from the bed to the bassinet, picking up her daughter and making her way to the nursery to change her and then to the kitchen to go and make her a bottle. Once Hayden was happily fed and burped Hun sat silently staring at the clock, waiting for the time to hit eight so she could go and wake up her smiley boy, needing a bit of his cheer to help pick up her mood.

Honey is on her feet the moment her coffee is finished brewing, beginning to clean the empty bottles in the sink as she carefully watched Hayden whos having tummy time in her playpen.

The woman quietly picked up her daughter from her spot in the middle of the living room and made her way up the stairs to retrieve Warren from his bed. She glanced into the spare room from a crack in the door, stopping in her tracks and hiding out the hall, watching her son cuddled up to her husband, the two boys sprawled out on the mattress, mouths open as they let out soft snores.

Honey stood in the doorway for a second, trying to decide whether or not it would be a good idea to go in there and wake the two of them up, but ultimately coming to the conclusion that Quinn needed his sleep more than she needed to wake the two of them up. So instead she turned around and headed back into the living room to continue watching the latest video uploaded by Ms. Rachel.

It wasn't much longer before her two boys were up and tiredly walking into the kitchen, pyjama clad with bed head as Quinn got them both breakfast.

"You sleep okay?" her husband asked as he sat down next to her on the couch, a second cup of coffee in his hand for her, a sort of sad peace offering that he gave her to break the tense ice. Honey shook her head as she took a sip of her coffee, "no, I hate sleeping alone," she mumbled as she looked at him for the first time that morning. "I didn't sleep great either," he said with a raspy voice, turning his attention to his song who was sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a kid's magazine as he ate his cereal.

"Warren was awake last night," he whispered and nodded over to their son, "he thinks we don't love each other anymore." "He's never witnessed us argue, we don't really do that," She frowned as her hand lowered to put a pacifier in Hayden's mouth to silence the incoming cries honey could feel approaching, "I still love you if that's what you were wondering." Quinn smiled softly, "I know, It just made me think a lot about our family and how much I really do love you, Hun," her husband shrugged so nonchalantly, the woman sat silently trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped at his confession, "I don't ever want you to feel like your the only one pulling the weight, I don't want to be absent."

Honey nodded as she felt his thumb brush a strand of hair away from her face, "Quinn, you do a lot." "Not as much as you though, and I had no right to come in and not be understanding to the work you've been putting in," he said genuinely as if his one night alone had left him pondering every mistake he'd ever made, "you do a lot and I'm only here when I can be, so I'm sorry for last night," he said breathlessly, like some sort of oath rolling off of his tongue promising her to be better.

Honey was almost taken aback, expecting some sort of fight, some sort of standoffish behaviour from the man. Cause she knew he wasn't entirely in the wrong, he couldn't have known, she'd just been balancing everything on her plate and let it all go crashing onto him.

"Thank you," she said as she leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, "and I'm sorry for exploding on you last night, It could have been handled with simple conversation, I'm just exhausted," she said truthfully as her forehead rested against his shoulder.

"Here, give me her," he motioned for her to pass him their daughter, "you go lay down, and I'll spend some time with them," Honey grinned as she took her freehand and grabbed his jaw smashing his lips onto his before handing the baby over to him.

"If we didn't have kids in the house right now I would do unspeakable things to you, Quinn," she said as she stood up and walked out of the kitchen and towards their bedroom. Quinn's jaw dropped, watching his wife walk away before snapping back into reality, "I could have that arranged!" he yelled out as she got to the door of their room. "You're on babysitting duty Daddy," she winked before shutting the door behind her and taking the most well-deserved nap of the century.

#thelittlesthughesau!!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #dad!quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #umich hockey

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

Note

Hii againn, first off I seriously love love LOVE the lucky fucking pillow you did from my first request thank you 🫶 I think this counts as my second request? (I hope it's okay to req again🥺) fluff rather than a smut hehe, this happens after five retired and they live together and reader comes home with a senior cat she decided to adopted (bc it reminded her of five) then he soon comes to love it so much, and up to you! pls a bit of angst. THANKIEE SMM I really enjoyed my first request!! 🩷🩷🩷

You're welkiee again! You can request as often as you like (but I am on hiatus after posting this to work on one or two longer projects). I've saved this one for a bit because I really wanted to do it justice. Sorry it took so long.

Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader Words: 3.3k, rated G

At last, retirement suited him.

He tried first when he was fifty eight and his body was in its teens, but destiny pulled him kicking and screaming back into the chaos. After all that was all done, he tried again, but it didn’t take.

As it turned out, people don’t retire just because they’re mentally tired, they retire because they’re old, and Five’s body and brain tissue being physically young had left him too full of energy to live a life of idleness.

But now, with his body in its early fifties and his consciousness well into its nineties, he felt the body slowing down enough to allow him to take it easy

So, a year ago, you and he bought a few acres of land in Tompkins County. Five was someone who didn’t like to gush- in fact, he tended to find fault if there was any- but even he had to admit it was perfect: it was near enough to Ithaca to access all the restaurants, shops and bars you enjoyed together, and rural enough to satisfy him in his insistence that you retire somewhere where nightfall brought a view of the cosmos unspoiled by city lights.

The farmhouse was small enough to mean it would be easy enough to keep clean as you both aged, but commodious enough to play host to two or three family members at a time.

For New Year, you actually managed four, but that had involved Klaus staying on a blow-up. He'd insisted that his powers kept his body in tip-top shape but it became apparent the following morning that he'd been talking out of his ass: his elderly back could no longer tolerate such treatment, and Five had wrenched his own in pulling him off the mattress.

No, Five couldn’t complain: he had a couple of project cars to tinker with in the barn, and next year you were planning to try planting a little orchard and vineyard to try your hands at making organic wine. His days were filled with pleasant walks, naps and hobbies, and his nights were spent warm in bed with you: what more could a man want from his retirement?

Now, he stretched out on the veranda, hat shading his eyes and sun warming his limbs. He wondered vaguely whether it was worth adding just one more bedroom. He sort of missed having a house full of guests. Or, even better, maybe he could build himself a better place for the cars (his precious Corvette was vulnerable to rust in the barn right now), and then convert the barn into its own little self-contained-

“Five?”

Your shout came to him on the breeze. He put down his book entirely and squinted at your approaching figure, returning from your afternoon walk. He’d left his glasses inside, so he could only see an indistinct shape in your arms. Your gait seemed unusual. Were you hurt?

“What’s up?” he called back, ignoring the slight twinge in his pelvis as he stood.

“Look what I’ve found!”

Not hurt: just slightly urgent. He approached curiously, walking off the little stiffness caused by the twinge. He knew there would probably be a point when it was easier to blink to his feet than heave himself up- he could sense it coming the last time his body was in its fifties, but he was damned if he’d do that until his joints were at least pushing eighty.

You came into view.

Apparently, you were wrestling with your sweater.

It writhed in your arms, wriggling and snarling so fiercely that you nearly dropped it on a couple of occassions.

“What the hell?”

“Open the door for me. I found a cat.”

“A cat?" he said, as if he'd never heard of such a creature.

And, sure enough, a pair of bright green eyes glared out from where their owner was bundled up in the sweater: a tightly- wrapped burrito with murder in its heart.

“I don’t want that thing in the house!” he said, as the burrito gave a threatening growl.

“He’s ill, Five.”

Thirty years together had taught him when you meant business. Your tone was conclusive, so he reluctantly opened the front door.

“Put it in the laundry room,” he said, resentfully, “I don’t want it pissing on the furniture.”

“He, Five.” you said, pointedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna misgender a goddamn cat,” he mumbled, but he opened the laundry room door and stood aside so you could enter before closing it behind you both.

“Okay- stand back,” you said, lowering the writhing sweater onto the tiles.

Five did step back. He liked dogs, but cats he had no interest in. Let alone one that sounded like it intended them both serious bodily harm. Its constant growls and furious yowls made him feel like he was in the presence of a live grenade.

For a moment, the bundle wriggled, throwing itself around until the cat finally extracted himself. His long fur was a dark gray black, and those jade eyes peered out threateningly from underneath weeping mange-sores. Immediately, he backed off into a corner, fur all on end and spitting at you both with hackles raised. Though he was doing his level best to appear larger, he was rather small and skinny.

Five looked at you, incredulously. There you were, eyes glistening in adoration as you looked down at the brewing hurricane of claws and teeth. It was the same face he fell in love with. You were slightly older than him physically, but you didn’t look it, especially now that your eyes were filled with an excited gleam: you looked young again.

“Look at him, Five!”

Suppressing a loving smile, he looked back at the cat, now growling again.

“He’s kinda gross.”

“No he isn’t!” you said, indignantly, “he's an old man and he’s sick.”

You paused for a moment.

“A bit like you, actually. You’re a sick old man if ever I met one.”

You eyed him knowingly with a little twitch of your eyebrows. Five scowled, but you continued, laughing, as the parallels came upon you one by one.

“He is like you! That must be why I had to bring him home! He’s tiny and old and grumpy and-”

As you said it, the cat let out an indignant, snappish ‘Nyaah’.

“-and he even sounds like you!” you finished, grinning.

“I’m not tiny,” Five said, grumpily, “I’m only an inch or so shorter than average.”

“Look!” you said, pointing between him and the cat, “you’re pulling the same face.”

“God, I married an idiot,” Five replied, schooling his expression back into neutrality. He looked back at the cat with its teeth bared in a silent hiss.

“It looks like it wants to tear our throats out.”

“I know!” you said, rapturously, “he’s so cute!”

Five shook his head at this absurd non-sequitur.

“Whose is it?”

“I found him near the old Montgomery place. I think he must have belonged to Judy.”

His mouth pulled downwards. Five had known Judy to wave to. She was a nice old lady who lived a few farms over. He’d been sorry to hear of her death.

“That means he’s been surviving on his own for two months,” you said.

He looked down at the cat, looking rapidly around itself for a route of escape and finding none. It seemed to try to line up a jump onto the counter, but looked wobbly on its back legs as it did so, so it gave up and went back to eyeing them with those lamp-like eyes.

He really was old.

“Well,” Five said, begrudgingly, “you’re gonna have to take him to the vets. See if he’s chipped and get that shit on his face sorted out.”

“Okay!” you said, brightly, looking around the laundry room with a thoughtful look, “can you blink and get me some twine from the kitchen so we don’t have to open the door.”

“Twine?”

“You just watch.”

***

With many claw marks on your forearms but still smiling like an idiot, you drove the cat to the vets with it trapped in a plastic laundry basket with an identical one on top secured with twine. Five watched you down the drive with a fond shake of the head and returned to his book. There was still a good hour or so of warm, early-afternoon sun before he’d have to go inside and get a jacket.

He spent the afternoon peacefully, sipping a cold beer and occasionally letting his book rest on his chest while he watched the thick cirrocumulous cloud cover crawling gradually by.

When he was forty, he only barely lived through the worst apocalyptic winter. Fuel was low, and he'd been prevented from finding more or seeking shelter elsewhere by the deepest snow drifts he ever experienced.

Out of one of these, he’d dug himself and Dolores a little snow-shelter. He distinctly remembered trying to dry his soaking gloves over the smoldering embers of his last burnable supplies and looking down at his red fingers.

'If I survive this,' he thought then, 'this will all be a memory one day. I can look back on this when I’m warm and comfortable. I can sit in the sun and remember how lucky I am to be there. This is good, actually, because it’ll teach me to be grateful.'

And, although he’d only thought that way to get him through that night, it had actually worked, because Five remembered it now. He remembered the pain in his joints from the physical labor and the burning of his frostbitten fingers and toes. He took a moment to glory in the contrast between then and now.

Back then, he’d only been thinking about surviving until the thaw or the following summer, but now he had more happiness and more comfort than he ever dared to imagine then. He was warm, he was safe, he was home, and he would fall asleep tonight held tight in your arms.

With a warm feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes.

He only awoke from the slight doze at the sound of the car pulling up.

“Hey,” he said, without opening his eyes, “is it all done with? Cat at the shelter?”

“Nyyaaahhh!”

The truculent noise was more than enough to answer his question. Damn cat couldn’t even meow right.

He opened his eyes to see you standing there with the cat in a brand new carrier and a huge bag from the pet store in another.

“Woah, hey!” he said, dismayed, “We didn’t talk about this!”

“Please, Five,” you said, wheedling, “he has nobody else. They read his chip and he was Judy’s. The vet said he’s too old to get adopted and he’d probably die at a shelter.”

“No, I am not keeping that thing in the house,” he protested, “I got this strange liking to having both my eyes!”

He relented slightly at the sight of your pout.

“Fine. He can stay, but he can live in the barn.”

“You go live in the barn,” you said, resentfully, taking the cat and the supplies into the house despite his protestations.

An argument ensued, an argument that didn’t settle down until you both turned in for bed.

When the cat was shut downstairs for the night, fed, bedded and given the run of the kitchen and laundry room, you slid into bed beside Five without acknowledging him.

Five sat there for a minute or so with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. At last, he spoke:

“Fine,” he said, “he can stay in the house, but I got two conditions.”

You gave a small squee and kissed him full on the mouth, squashing his mustache with your fervor. You knew that the thin end of the wedge was embedded. Whatever Five’s conditions were, the cat would find his way around them in time.

“All right, all right,” Five said, from between your hands on his cheeks. Though he was trying to sound stern, suppressing his smile was difficult.

“Number one,” he said, holding up a finger, “he doesn’t get to go beyond the kitchen. I don’t want him ruining our stuff. We’ll get a cat door and he can go out and do whatever cats do during the day, and he can sleep and eat here.”

“Okay,” you said, though with no intention of sticking to this agreement.

Five put up a second finger.

“And two, I get to name him.”

“He already has a name,” you said, bemused, “Judy called him Mr Cuddles, I think.”

“That’s a dumb name,” Five grumbled, “I’m calling him Timothy.”

“Timothy?”

“Timothy.” he said, decisively, “take it or leave it.”

“Can we call him Tim?”

“Nope,” Five said, obstinately, “Timothy.”

***

Timothy didn’t like to be touched. It took him six weeks to tolerate you petting him without tensing up, though it was clear he didn’t really enjoy it. Being picked up was still an absolute no-go, as that would necessitate touching his tummy. That, you were learning, was a guaranteed bite.

Despite this, things had improved for Timothy since he arrived. His mange was gone and he’d grown in confidence, greeting you each morning with a polite ‘Nyah’, and even conferring the odd friendly chirrup upon you now and again.

You spent hours in the kitchen with him, just sitting there, drinking tea and tempting him towards you with treats. You were getting on fine, and Timothy clearly already felt like he owned the place, coming and going as he wished and sunning himself on the veranda.

You were besotted, and Five was happy for you, (anything that made your eyes light up that way was fine by him), but mostly he ignored Timothy, carrying on just the same as ever.

One afternoon, however, Five was in the barn, lying on his mechanic’s creeper under his jacked up 1967 Pontiac. There was a worrying leak coming from somewhere, and, having got so far fixing her up on his own, he was hoping to avoid having to take her into the shop in town.

So intent was he on inspecting the engine bay, he didn’t notice that he wasn’t the only one beneath the car until Timothy was less than an inch from his face.

“Nyaaah?”

Five startled, dropping his flashlight and cursing.

“Shit!”

Timothy’s ears flattened against his head, and he backed off rapidly, stopping a few feet away before hissing at Five, ill-naturedly.

“Stupid cat,” Five muttered, composing himself and returning to the job at hand.

As he continued to work, he stayed aware of Timothy stalking around the car. At one point, he heard a small flump that meant he’d jumped through the Pontiac’s open door.

“Watch the the interior,” Five grumbled, “that’s the original naugahyde. You know how much I paid for her?”

“Nyah.”

“Yup,” he said, “and if you scratch up or pee on any of it, I’ll replace it with catskin. Understood?”

“Nyah,” Timothy repeated.

“Good.”

He became absorbed again, listening to Timothy’s paws pattering around on his precious upholstery. The leak was hard to identify. He chewed at his lower lip and considered before muttering to himself.

“It was brown, so that’s gotta be transmission fluid, right? Maybe brake fluid? Hell, maybe it’s just oil.”

“Nyah.”

“Could be a lube oil leak, I guess,” he said, as if Timothy had suggested this, “but it doesn’t smell bad.”

Timothy landed with only a slight stumble when he jumped down. Five felt the cat butt up and rub himself against his feet where they stuck out from underneath the car.

He tinkered for another fifteen minutes to no avail. He could feel his joints starting to stiffen, so he wheeled himself out from under the car to find Timothy watching him, sitting neatly in a shaft of sunlight at the barn door.

He gave Five a slow blink.

Five wasn’t au fait with cat communication, but the gesture seemed friendly, so he nodded slightly awkwardly at him in acknowledgement.

***

Over the next week or so, Timothy honored Five with his company whenever he worked on the Pontiac.

Five supposed it was a hangover from his life with Dolores, but he found he worked better when he had a presence with him to talk to. Verbalizing his thought processes nearly always helped him problem-solve.

It took him a few days to identify the problem and, just as he was starting to fix it, a sound like an idling Harley Davidson made him look around confusedly for the source. He thought for one, wild moment that the key had been turned in the Pontiac’s ignition but apparently not: as it turned out, this was just how Timothy purred.

He was sitting a few feet away, watching Five work under the car and purring in the warmth of the sunlight. When he saw Five looking, he gave another of those contented slow blinks.

That night, Five didn’t shut Timothy in the kitchen when he went to bed.

***

It was a balmy summer afternoon. You and Five were sitting on the veranda on the twin loungers, drinking iced tea and talking in an idle fashion about building another bedroom.

You favored converting the attic, while Five wanted a full barn conversion. He talked convincingly about how nice it would be to have his niblings and their families over to stay for a few weeks at a stretch, but you suspected it actually had much more to do with the opportunity to build himself a proper mechanic’s shop on the property. He talked about how nice it would be to spend more time with the kids, but you could see the ghost of a hydraulic vehicle lift behind his eyes: there would be no more lying uncomfortably on the creeper then.

But, the decision left unmade, Five had talked himself into a nap. His hand had long since dropped from where you’d been holding it between the two loungers, and he was now sound asleep with his hat over his face.

You were engrossed with a book, relaxed and listening to Five’s soft little snores. It was good he was having a nap now, you thought. Tonight, you’d planned to wait up until it got dark out and stargaze on a rug spread in the back field, like you did when you were younger.

“Nyaah?”

Timothy padded into sight, piercing green eyes x-raying you with assessment. This was another similarity to your husband: even after all these years, Five regularly looked at you as if he were still making up his mind about you.

You patted your thigh, hoping to encourage Timothy onto your lap, but he declined the offer and wandered over to sniff Five’s empty glass instead. Apparently finding nothing to his liking, he looked up at Five.

You watched, shocked, as Timothy first gauged the jump, then decided it was within his capabilities and finally shuffled backwards to line himself up. In a mildly ungainly fashion, he made the leap and walked confidently along Five’s chest until he reached the softer padding of his belly. There, Timothy kneaded him gently before he settled down, turning around and around in a circle before curling up neatly.

This was just typical, you thought, as Timothy began to purr loudly. You’d worked your ass off to get this cat to like you and he still barely tolerated you petting him. All the while, Five had treated Timothy with indifference bordering on dislike and this is how he responded?

As you watched, trying hard not to feel slightly offended, Five stirred and muttered something in which only the word “cat” was discernible. His arms came sleepily up, his fingers laced together and his hands laid themselves across the cat’s abdomen.

Timothy stiffened and made a small, slightly unhappy noise at the unexpected touch, but, after a moment of evaluation, apparently decided to tolerate it. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes.

For a moment, you shook your head and watched the two crotchety old men sleep. Then, smiling, you returned to your book.

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x gn reader #long live the mustache

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apocalypseornaw · 1 year

Text

You Belong Here

Part 2 to Where do I Belong?

There was one thing Dean had always admired about you during the early years of knowing each other. You had the ability to completely fall off the map if you felt the urge. At a time only Bobby would be able to find you but now years later with more practice under your belt? Finding a trace of you was damn near impossible.

Set between Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets & Regarding Dean

Mary was gone. She'd said she needed to "Figure out her life" Dean knew the real reason she'd left, so did Sam. Dean couldn't look at his own mother without anger spilling into his gut. You left because of her.

The fight the two had was bad enough that Sam came to the shocking realization that Dean didn't have John's temper, his was more along the line of Mary's.

"I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did Dean! I know you care about Y/N. It's just I'd drank a little, I've heard enough bits and pieces to know something happened between her and Sam then the two of you get hurt on a hunt?" Dean's jaw clenched tightly at her words as he pushed off from where he'd been leaning against the wall "Three of us"

"What?" Mary asked before Dean continued "The three of us got hurt. Yeah my ribs were broke, Sam got slashed but you didn't notice she was limping? Her hip got slammed out of place taking a blow meant for me, her entire upper back was damn near ribbons helping Sam to his feet. You don't know her, you don't know what she's endured to be at my side. I could search every damn world there is and not find another woman like her. She's been in the life since she was eight, she's been in OUR lives since she was twelve"

"So you're telling me it doesn't ever bother you that she slept with your brother?" Mary pushed and it was then Sam moved to be between her and Dean.

The calmness in Dean's voice as he spoke worried Sam more than anger. He was doing what he always did, shutting down emotions in favor of not facing them. "I died in her arms. She loves me and I died in her arms. The next time she sees me alive, I'm a demon fucking some waitress in a video. Yeah she turned to Sam for comfort, someone she'd known most of her life and was safe with. The only thing that bothers me was the woman I love was put into that position where she was in so much pain. I'm sick of her feeling guilt for it and I'm so sick of other sons of a bitches making her feel guilt for it. I know where I stand with her. Sam knows where he stands with her.She's fought for us, she's died for us. No one has ever been at our side like she has. I don't give a damn if you're my mother, you won't stand here and try to undermine Sam's friendship with her or my relationship with her"

Mary had left long not after that. Dean found himself wishing he could care but John had fed them stories of their mother, tainted memories of a marriage and a woman that was far from perfect. He loved her, yeah of course he did but you weren't at his side because of her.

If he could just talk to you, get face to face he knew he could get you home. One of the many reasons he loved you was that stubborn streak you had. The stubborn streak that made you show up to fight Lucifer, that gave you the sheer will more than once to push yourself to your feet and continue a fight. Now that stubborn streak was working against him. You'd set it in that beautiful head of yours that he was better off without you. Now was his turn to chase you down and make you see beyond any sort of self doubt you had.

If only he could find you. He was losing his damn mind, memories flashing of the last time you'd went radio silent. Amara had driven you out of his arms then, making you doubt the love between the two of you. She'd driven you away from the bunker and from the safety in numbers. He'd nearly lost you.

When Sam and Donatello found you and Lucifer...it'd taken Chuck nearly an hour to coax you into letting him heal you. You'd been more broken than he could remember. For days you'd flinched at the sound of his voice, the sound of Sam's. Rowena had finally broken through to you. He couldn't lose you. He closed his eyes letting the worse scenarios over power him. How was he supposed to face the never ending fight that was the life of a hunter without you?

----------

If he thought about it the biggest moments of his and Sam's lives you were there for most of them. You and Sam got your license around the same time, you'd gotten your ged a month after Sam graduated. The years Sam had gone to Stanford Dean had looked forward to bumping into you on the road because you were one of the very few he'd always considered a friend.

The line between friend and more had faded gradually. Now? He knew you made him a better man, he could see a future for himself. Some sort of light at the end of the tunnel.

----------

"Dean!" Sam's voice cut through the thick silence of the bunker. Dean was on his feet without a word, meeting his brother in the library. "What is it Sammy?"

Sam smiled as he held up his phone "I think I found her but we gotta move fast before she goes off grid again"

"Asshole" you grunted, rolling the last of the ghouls onto the pyre. Why had it been your luck to find a damn herd of them? The most you'd ever seen together was two. Reminded you of the creature features you'd seen way back when Eve had cracked the world open and popped out.

You touched the cut on your cheek and a hiss of pain escaped you. They'd put up one helluva fight, the damn flamethrower you hadn't realized Dean had left in your jeep until two weeks after you'd left had come in handy. A sad smile slipped onto your face at the thought that even with not being at his side Dean was still protecting you as best as he could.

There was a first aid kit back in the cabin you were staying in. You could patch yourself up after you cleaned up the scene.

----------

After the flames died down to just a few embers you cooled them with the jug of water you carried in your backseat then scooped the ashes into a shallow hole.

There wasn't nothing else to do but go back to the cabin, get cleaned up and make an attempt at sleep. Even though your sleep patterns were once again as bad as they were in your late teens/early twenties.

You missed Dean, you missed the bunker. You missed your life. With a sigh you flopped down into your jeep turning the ignition and letting the engine roar to life.

The moment you pulled to a stop in front of the cabin you knew something was off. There was fresh tire tracks but no car.

You checked the knife in your waistband along with the gun at your lower back before climbing out of the jeep. Whoever or whatever it was better be up to a fight. You didn't feel like any bullshit.

------

The moment you stepped across the threshold into the cabin a hand grabbed your arm. You quickly slid under it, sending a kick to your would be assailants knee but when you grabbed the arm to twist it behind them their voice hit your ear "Y/N...it's me!"

"Sam?" You asked in shock, reaching for the lightswitch. He grinned slowly getting to his feet "Shouldn't have spooked you" you shrugged one shoulder "Ya think? Wait what are you doing here? Shit where's Dean? Is he ok?" Fear gripped your heart in that moment until Sam grabbed your shoulder "Breathe! He's ok" he spotted your cheek and asked "are you?"

"Why are you here?" You pushed ignoring his concern but before he could open his mouth to answer a familiar rumble of an engine hit your ears "Just talk to him. He's confused as to why you left without talking to him. He's hurting. He needs you" you took a deep breath before nodding. You owed Dean an explanation. Sam half smiled "I'll make coffee. Whenever you two are through I'll be in here"

Dean didn't know if he should walk up on the porch or wait for you to come out. By now you'd probably damn near kicked Sam's ass if he spooked you.

While he was still considering a course of action the door opened and you stepped out, shutting it behind you.

"Y/N" the moment he spoke your name he saw the change in your demeanor. When you first stepped out your shoulders were set, eyes level with your surroundings but the moment he spoke he saw your shoulders sag slightly as if you'd let yourself relax simply hearing him.

You walked down the doorsteps and no words were spoken before he opened his arms and you crashed into them, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. "I never meant to hurt you in anything Dean"

----------

You felt like you could breathe for the first time in weeks. Being in Dean's arms was home to you. "I'm sorry" you whispered against his chest. He kissed the top of your head and you felt him take a breath that wavered just slightly "You left me, again. How did you think that wouldn't hurt?"

You leaned back to look up at him and felt your heart clench at seeing tears in the corner of his eyes "Dean.." you tried but he spotted the cut across your cheek "You're hurt"

"Ghouls" you replied trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating. He reached for your hand "C'mon I'll patch you up" you let him lead you to the impala. He opened the backseat so you sat down while he grabbed the first aid kit out of the trunk.

You were silent as Dean worked, gently cleaning your cuts. "How many?" You could hear the anger mingled with fear in his voice. He hated when you hunted alone. "Five"

"God damn sweetheart" he mumbled just barely audible. Five. You'd taken on five Ghouls solo. What if something had gone wrong? He never would've known. He took a deep breath in an attempt to keep his hands steady. He was crouched in front of you just outside the door.

He motioned towards your shirt "Can I check you for any other damage?" You nodded your consent with a small smile "You don't have to ask permission to touch me Dean"

He bit back the words that wanted to tumble out. You'd left him alone. He'd gone to sleep curled up to you, a hand touching your stomach as he dozed off. Only to wake to an empty bed and a letter.

He lifted your shirt and let just his fingertips trail across the angry purple marks already forming on your skin. They'd tried to get at your spleen, that was apparent from the bruising over it. He touched across your ribs a bit firmer than everywhere else "Any pain beyond bruising?" You shook your head.

----------

You knew Dean better than yourself in some ways. You knew what was going through his head as he pulled your shirt up further, examining every inch of skin he could get access to. He was thinking in what ifs. He was probably imagining you dead, him not knowing.

When he asked you to lean up so he could look at your back you did as he asked, watching his face considering he'd pulled you into the position of basically laying on his shoulder "Dean, I'm ok I promise" "You'd be even better if we'd been with you. I don't know why you left, I don't know why you didn't believe in me...believe in us...I don't know why..." you cut him off by pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard "That's not fair darling and you know it"

"Dean I love you" you knew that wouldn't help his feelings but it was the best you had. He turned to look at you,the close proximity driving the breathe out of you "I know that. I know you love me. That's what makes it worse. I've apparently been such a shit boyfriend that I haven't driven it into that beautiful head of yours just how much you mean to me"

"Dean you're not a shit boyfriend" you spoke and he scoffed "No. I've been needing to say this for weeks. I've been searching damn near constantly, barely sleeping. I'm gonna say this then you can say whatever you need to and we'll go from there" you nodded so he pulled your shirt back down into place and leaned you up so he could take both of your hands in one of his.

"You've been a constant in my life. You gave Sam a best friend as a kid that didn't get many chances to have any friends. You were there when Sam went to Stanford and I had no line of communication with him but you. When dad went missing you wasted no time offering to help us in any way. The only time I've seen you even come close to giving up was when we all three were contemplating it on that Croatoan case. You have kept going through so much shit that would've put a lesser person in the dirt. You're strong as hell, you're brave as hell. I've seen you stand toe to toe with Lucifer and not blink an eye at the father of murder. When you left, that note said you weren't sure where you belonged right?"

You nodded slowly so he reached for your hips, damn near pulling you into his lap "You belong here, in my arms. What happened with Sam? I am years past that. I know had the cards not fell like they had nothing like that would've ever happened. You two are best friends, I'd never try to take that from either of you because you two are more important than anything in the world to me. I get why you left with Amara and I get why you felt the need to leave now but unless you one day decide you don't love me anymore promise me here and now you'll trust me enough to talk to me if you're feeling lost"

You could feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I could never stop loving you Dean. This is it for me" he smiled, leaning forward to catch your lips in a lingering kiss. When he pulled away he cupped your cheek with his hand, his thumb gently touching the cut "Then trust that I love you. And as far as you hurting my self preservation skills? They're better because of you, I pay more attention on hunts and take less chances because the thought of not coming home to you? I can't imagine it. I'm a better man and hunter for knowing you and loving you so please just come home. Whatever comes next we can handle it. We've made it through worse and we're still standing. We can make it through anything that gets thrown our way,just please come home"

"I've missed you" you finally managed to get out and the smile he gave you was enough to make your knees weak "I'm yours sweetheart. I always will be" you pulled him into a kiss taking just enough time to whisper against his lips "I'm not too hurt for this" he smiled against your lips at you seemingly reading his mind "Where's Sam?" "Inside until we get him"

He pulled away from the kiss then looked back towards the cabin "In that case scoot over so I can climb in and shut this door"

@globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #always be yours

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lastbluetardis · 8 months

Note

🎵 your tenrose AU ideas: 🌟🥰🤩😳🤯❣️ so big brained. i’m getting chills just by imagining each scenario. chills chills everywhere. feed us—and i mean ME—some more. pleaseeee. 🙏🏻

I'm glad you're enjoying this silly little game! I'm having a blast with it!

Song: Exile

AU Idea: God, this is a hard song to give a happy ending, but I'll do my damndest 😂 Most of this story would be quite angsty. It would be a story where James and Rose were lovers but had absolutely piss-poor communications skills, along with their own individual demons and insecurities that royally fucked-up the relationship. Rose didn't think James cared for her or their relationship as much as she did, and she tried over and over again to hint to him that there's an inequality in the relationship, and he needs to do *something* to let her know he's all-in too. But the signs go way over his head because he's a dumb, oblivious boy, who is actually very much in love with Rose, but isn't as showy or flashy with his devotion. His love is deep and quiet, like wading forward in the ocean and it's suddenly deeper than you thought.

The relationship was spiraling for quite awhile, and James somewhat noticed it but figured it was the usual bumps and hurdles of any relationship. Until one day Rose packs her bags and leaves, ending it. She gets into a rebound relationship that she ultimately doesn't care about, but she wants to hurt James as much as he hurt her with his inaction. And James is devastated, now thinking that Rose didn't care at all about their relationship if she was able to move on so quickly.

Years pass, and both of them are trying to move on, but can't help but internet-stalk each other every once in a while (usually after they've had a few drinks) to see what the other is getting up to. They watch each other fall in and out of relationships that don't last longer than a few months. But they never contact each other directly, because they're both certain that the other is over what they'd had.

Until they meet in person when a mutual friend of theirs gets married or something. They mostly avoid each other at the reception, apart from some lingering gazes and awkward closed-mouthed smiles of acknowledgement. As the night carries on, they're both steadily getting drunker, and in their drunken state, they get over-confident and stupid. James approaches Rose, unsteady on his feet, and slurs that it's a great party. She hums in agreement before knocking back a shot.

"Let's dance," he blurts, "for old time's sake. Eh? What's the harm?"

There is a lot of potential harm, but Rose is too drunk to think of them, so she agrees, because as much as she's resented him these last few years, she missed what they used to have and what they could have been. Being in his arms again is more wonderful than she'd remember, and holding her is more wonderful than he'd remembered. They slow dance, which is more of an uncoordinated back-and-forth swaying.

The alcohol is hitting Rose hard, and she rests her head on his chest, just like she used to, and all of the old hurt and anger resurfaces until she blurts, "I really fucking loved you, you know."

James, thinking the alcohol is talking, rolls his eyes and says, "Uh huh. Tell that to Rickey."

"Mickey."

"Whatever. Took you all of forty-eight hours to move on. Sure sounds like true love."

"Just because you didn't give two shits about what we had doesn't mean I wasn't allowed to move on in whatever way worked best for me."

She pushes away from him and storms off, out of the party because even though she's drunk, she knows better than to make a scene and ruin her friend's wedding day. She's almost to the lifts when she hears running footfalls behind her.

"I didn't give two shits about the relationship?! You just left! You gave up and you left!"

"Because you didn't care! For months I was begging you to do something, to show you wanted me, to show you cared about us, and you did nothing!"

"Bullshit! You never said a word until the day you left!"

"I told you about how fun a trip to the shore would be! I asked if it sounded romantic to go dancing somewhere! I showed you photographs of a little house we might be able to afford together! And you... you ignored everything!"

James barely remembers any of that, and doesn't understand why she's bringing up those moments, because that isn't even what they're fighting about. (Why are they even fighting???) When he says as much, Rose throws her hands up and says he's so useless and can't even take a hint.

"Take a hint? Take a hint??? You were feeling like this and all you gave me were hints????"

He's furious and devastated and so, so confused at the possibility that the best relationship he ever had ended because he didn't understand Rose's style of communication.

Rose is suddenly realizing what had happened all those years ago, and she's suddenly mortified to realize everything that happened was a stupid misunderstanding that had been blown out of proportion, and she hates herself, and, just a little, hates him too, but mostly she hates the world and how stupid they all are.

"Forget it," she mumbles, but he catches her wrist and pulls her toward him. She's as close as she was when they were dancing, and she smells the booze on his breath but also the cologne she'd loved so much on him. His eyes are dark and hungry, and he licks his lips, making them shine, and God she's missed him.

Before he can ask, she pulls him down by the lapels and crashes their mouths together in a sloppy heated kiss that feels better than any kiss she's had. She groans when he sucks her lower lip into his mouth the way he always knew she liked, and he moans when she scratches his scalp in the way she knows he loves. Things are getting heavy and heated and they're still in the corridors by the lifts, but neither of them seems to care.

When they come up for air, he rests his forehead to hers and whispers, "You were my one true love. And I never wanted to lose you. And I didn't know what was happening. I'm sorry. Can we try again?"

She hugs him tightly to her and says, "I'm so sorry too. Yes. I want to try again with you. See if we can get it right this time."

They do.

Send me a 🎵 and I’ll shuffle my Taylor Swift playlist

#deadforcenturies #ash answers #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #jeeeeezus this got long #i had a lot of fun with it and just ran with it!

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homomenhommes · 2 days

Text

STORY: Dominated

by Brock Archer

Saturday morning

He was the hottest, most gorgeous hunk of Grade A Prime All-American Beef I had ever laid eyes on. Only slightly taller than I am, about six feet, he stood there with sweat dripping down his sinewy body. His hair was cut short, and his face was slightly round, but not effeminate - cute and masculine at the same time, kind of like Tag Adams or Ben Cohen - and he sported a bit of a beard, like a man who had just spent the past two or three days in the woods without shaving. His dark brown eyes cast a look of mystery. Every inch of him was rock-solid muscle. His arms were huge, and he had the biggest pecs I had ever seen. I could kick myself for having gone to the pool that day instead of the weight room; I would love to have seen his bulging muscles undulate erotically as he pumped iron. He was not muscular in the gross way that some bodybuilders are, but in the way that makes a person want to curl up in his arms and fall asleep. His pecs and eight-pack abs were made even more sensuous by the dark fur that covered them. He had more body hair than either Adams or Cohen, but not so much as to make him look like an ape. Even from the other side of the locker room, I could smell testosterone oozing from every pore of his fuckin' body.

[Pardon me for a few minutes while I jack off.]

[Ah. OK, I'm back now.]

Compared to the god at the gym, I'm a pretty average guy, a little over 5'10', brown hair, brown eyes. I'm hairy, but not like the Greek god standing next to me. My dick is about average too as far as size goes, but there must be something about the shape because I have always gotten compliments on it. I get lots of 'oohs' and 'aahs' from women when they see it for the first time, and one guy even told me that it was the most beautiful dick he'd ever seen. Go figure. I have never thought of myself as particularly well built, so I was quite surprised when a woman approached me by the pool one day and told me that she thought I was very 'buff.' I guess it's just a matter of perspective - kind of like the way a man's penis always looks bigger when he's inspecting it in the mirror than when he's just looking down at it.

Back in the locker room, I had to check out the woman's assessment for myself. Looking in the mirror, I concluded that all of those years of working out had, indeed, begun to pay off. I could see the V clearly defined where my delts, biceps, and triceps came together. There was a noticeable cleavage between my pecs, which were bigger and firmer than ever before. My legs have always been well developed; I do a lot of hiking as well as working out. I still needed to drop about 10 pounds off my waist, but, hell, who doesn't? I was standing there flexing my muscles and admiring myself when he walked up and stood at the sink next to me. My God, he nearly blew me away. (There's a double entendre there, but I'd better not get sidetracked again, or I'll never finish this story.) 'Hey,' was all he said.

'Hi,' I replied, barely summoning enough breath to get the word out of my mouth. We both began to shave, and no more words were exchanged. Every so often, I glanced at his reflection in the mirror to drink in the beauty of the man, but I had to be careful not to let him catch me peeking. I took the towel off the counter and wrapped it around my waist in a desperate attempt to conceal my growing adulation. By the time I finished shaving, I decided that I had better take a cold shower. A really, really long; really, really cold shower.

When I walked out of the shower, I saw him going into the steam room, and I decided to follow. Unfortunately, the room was full of men, but, fortunately, about the only place left to sit was directly across from my Hercules. I was hoping to get a good luck at the one part of him that I had not seen yet, but he sat with a towel around his waist, and the steam was petty thick anyway. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the sweat trickle down his hairy, muscle-bound body.

After I showered again, I went to my locker to get dressed, and there he was in the aisle across from me. 'I bet he's got a really small dick,' I said to myself. Everyone has at least one flaw, right, and I hadn't seen one on this guy yet, so that must be it. When he dropped his towel to get dressed, though, I glimpsed his cock just long enough to see that he was not lacking in that department either.

When he walked out of the locker room, I sighed deeply and told myself I had had my thrill for the day and should get going as well. I had just sat down in my car and turned the key in the ignition when I heard a tapping on my window. I looked around, and there he was, gazing at me with those dark chocolate eyes.

'I'm sorry to bother you,' he said in his sexy baritone, 'but my truck won't seem to start.' (Why was I not surprised that he would drive a truck? Probably a 4x4.) 'I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend at her cabin,' he continued, 'and I was wondering if you could give me a lift. I'll be happy to pay you for your trouble.'

'Oh, it'd be no trouble at all,' I replied. 'Hop in.' Hot damn! Could I really be this lucky?

'Thanks,' he said with a smile that again reminded me of Ben Cohen.

The cabin seemed quite far, but I didn't mind because that just gave me more time to be with him. He didn't talk much, and when he did, he mostly asked about me. He said very little about himself, just that he was a sergeant in the Army National Guard. He never even told me his name, just said to call him Sarge. From his appearance and a few things that he did offer, I surmised that he must have been slightly younger than I am, mid to late thirties maybe. I wanted to ask him for some workout suggestions, but I knew that if I did, I would start thinking about his amazing body and would probably pop a boner big enough to set off my car's airbag.

'Are you married?' he asked.

'Divorced,' I replied.

'What happened?'

I paused for a second, and he came back, 'Oh, I'm sorry. That's really none of my business.'

'No, it's OK,' I said. I took a deep breath and lied, 'I came home early one day and found her in bed with another man.'

'That really sucks!' he commiserated.

'Big time,' I added. I wasn't about to tell him that, in fact, my wife had come home and found me in bed with another man - her younger brother! I never regretted that day, though. He was a much better lay than she ever was. We spent that whole summer together before he had to go back to college, and on one occasion he even convinced a couple of cheerleaders to join us in bed.

Sarge and I drove down one country road after another and finally onto a dirt road that took us up to a rustic cabin. (Cabins are always rustic, aren't they?)

'I promised to pay you for driving me,' he said. 'I've got some money in the cabin. 'Why don't you come in, and I'll get it.'

'No, I wouldn't think of taking any money from you. I was happy to do it.'

'Well, at least come in and let me buy you a beer.' Responding to my hesitation, he added, 'I insist.'

'Well, OK, just one maybe.' Like I would really turn down an opportunity like that! Yeah, right!

The cabin appeared to have only two rooms. 'Have a seat there on the bed,' he said. 'I'll just be a second.'

When he returned with the beers, he did something that struck me as odd, though. Instead of handing me one of the beers, he set them both down on a table. I stood up to walk over to the table for my beer, and that's when he made his move. Cornering me between the bed and the wall, he changed his whole demeanor. 'You've been wanting to get into my jock ever since you first saw me, haven't you, fag?'

'I think I'd better go,' I stammered. He was right, of course. I did want to get into his jock, but the tone of his voice concerned me, so I aimed for the door, but he blocked my retreat.

'I know what you want,' he grinned, 'and I'm gonna let you have it, but first, I need to make sure you understand who's in charge here.' That's when he hauled off and slammed me in the gut so hard that I would have fallen to the floor had he not caught me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me back up. Still groggy from the pain in my stomach, I never saw the left jab to my jaw.

Saturday afternoon

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, waking up to a splash of cold water on my face and the sight of not one pair of legs, but three. The other two were clad in army boots and fatigues.

Though neither man was quite as muscular as the sergeant, both were obviously used to working out. One was black, 30ish, a bit leaner and taller, maybe 6'4 or 6'5. If the sergeant was a linebacker, this guy was a point guard. The other one was the youngest, maybe 19 or 20. He had blond hair that accentuated his sparking blue eyes, the kind of eyes that just make a person want to dive right in and never come up for air. I guessed that he had been an athlete in high school, perhaps a baseball player, because the other men occasionally called him 'Sport.' In other words, he was as cute as hell. Kind of like Michael Churchill.

'Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,' the sergeant snidely remarked. 'Nap time is over. Pick him up, boys,' he directed the other two men, who dutifully complied. Under better circumstances, I would have relished the experience of being held by two such hot studs.

'Say hello to the corporal,' said the sergeant. Before I could speak, though, the black man hauled off and punched me in the gut just like the sergeant had. Then, the sergeant took the place of the younger man at my arm and said simply, 'Private.' The young private, though, backed away somewhat as if to suggest that he did not want to hit me. 'That's an order, Private!' Realizing that he had no choice, the young man followed suit and hit me in the gut as well. 'My grandmother can hit harder than that,' snapped the sergeant. 'Do it again, and do it right this time, or I'll be forced to show you how it's done.' With that, the young man hit me much harder than before.

'I think he's gonna throw up,' said the corporal.

'Take him outside, Bull,' ordered the sergeant. 'If he pukes all over my floor, I'll make him lick it up.'

The corporal (Bull) and the private (Sport) dragged me outside, and after I had finished heaving, they dragged me back in and threw me down on the bed. 'Open your mouth,' ordered the sergeant, and when I refused, he slapped the shit out of me. When I screamed in pain, he started pouring the can of beer down my throat. I choked and spit some of it out, but he didn't stop until the can was empty. 'When you suck my dick, bitch, I'd rather have you smelling like beer than puke.'

With that, he climbed on top of me, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and slapped my face with it several times. Before he shoved it into my mouth, he pulled out a knife and held it to my cheek. 'Don't you go getting any stupid ideas now. If you so much as brush your teeth against my dick, I'll cut your balls out and stuff 'em down your throat, you hear me?'

'Yes,' I whispered with all the breath I could muster.

'I didn't hear you,' he yelled.

'Yes,' I repeated a bit louder.

'Yes, what?' He screamed in his drill sergeant voice.

'Yes, sir,' I replied.

'Good,' he snapped. The he stabbed the knife into the table next to the bed, pulled my lips apart, and shoved his cock down my throat as the corporal and private looked on. In no time at all, his dick swelled to 8 or 9 inches.

As Sarge face-fucked me, the corporal unzipped his pants and whipped out the biggest goddam prick I'd ever seen in my life. It had to be at least 8' soft and 12' hard and as big around as that beer can. They didn't call him Bull for nothing. The guy could have been arrested for carrying a concealed weapon. Stroking his meat, Bull eyed the young private lasciviously, first in his eyes and then at his crotch. Without a word, he was directing the blond stud to pull out his cock and join the action. He grabbed the young man's hand and placed it over his own cock, groaning and moaning as the private pumped his shaft. I knew then that I was in for a long, hard ride, but there's no way in hell I could have anticipated just how long or hard it would be.

After a few minutes of the warm-up exercises, the sergeant hopped off of me. 'Strip him, boys.' The big, black corporal ripped my shirt apart and unbuckled my belt. The blond private removed my shoes, and then the two of them pulled off my jeans. Despite my fear and my best efforts to control myself, I felt an electric shock surge through my crotch.

'Hold him,' commanded the sergeant. With one man holding each arm and leg, the sergeant pulled the knife out of the table, leaned over, and began to cut off my briefs before brushing the cold knife against my dick and balls. Then he stuck his face right up to mine, his hot breath warming my skin. 'Remember what I told you. No funny stuff.'

The two lackeys let go of me, and all three men began to strip as well. Sport displayed a completely hairless torso that gave full exposure to his ripped abs and well-toned pecs. But his most appealing feature was an absolutely scrumptious bubble butt, the kind that makes a person drool. I could easily imagine hospital emergency rooms all up and down the coast reporting unexplained up-ticks in the number of cases of whiplash whenever Sport walked along the beach.

Bull's naked body featured several tattoos as well as piercings in his nipples and especially pronounced quads and upper arms. After he had removed his clothes, Bull took his fatigues and pressed the crotch into my face. The pungent man-scent told me that they had not been washed in several days.

'I think I need a piece of ass,' said the sergeant. I was afraid that he would fuck me raw, but he called to the blond. 'Get over here, private.' The sergeant straddled me again, this time at my waist, facing away from me. I could feel his hairy balls tickling the tip of my prick. He grasped my legs and pulled my ass up into the air. Hooking the young private around the neck with his powerful hand, the sergeant pulled the boy's face into my ass. 'Lick,' was all he said. While Sport was eating me out, Bull shoved his monster cock into my mouth. I tried sucking it as best I could, but he kept pumping harder and deeper, and I thought he would choke me to death. 'Come on, bitch, swallow that fuckin' cock.'

The private never said much during the entire ordeal, but Sarge and Bull trash talked the whole time. They kept saying things like, 'Yeah, baby, lick that ass,' and 'Fuck him, man, fuck him hard.' They were like two frat boys egging each other on.

Finally, Sarge shoved Sport aside. Then, he swiveled around to face me and lifted my legs up over his shoulders. 'Brace yourself, man, 'cause I'm about to fuck the goddam shit out of you.' First, he stuck one finger up my hole, and then two, and then three. Then he pulled my ass cheeks apart, spit into my hole, and stuck his dick up my ass, slowly at first and then harder and deeper. I could feel his prick puncture my sphincters and his balls slap against my butt cheeks. I thought he was going to rip my rectum apart. I tried to scream at the pain, but the corporal's huge tool in my mouth muffled the sound. The fabulous hunk who had taken my breath away at the gym was now savagely raping me. With each primal thrust of his hips, beads of sweat formed on his forehead and body. His abs rippled, and his hairy pecs heaved as he gasped for air. Despite the pain, I had to admit to myself that he was a truly magnificent beast.

Though I didn't want them to cum in my mouth and ass, I did want to get the ordeal over with, so I prayed for them to shoot as quickly as possible, but they didn't. They drew the torture out as long as they could. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the sergeant yelled, 'Oh, God, I'm gonna cum! Unh, aah, unh, aah,' he panted, the groans building with each successive thrust. 'Oh, God, man! Shit! Fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUUCCKK...aaaaah. I felt the man's hot stream shooting up my ass again and again. Finally, he collapsed on top of me, his hard dick still throbbing inside of me. Despite the fact that he had just brutally raped me, I loved the feel of his sweaty, hairy, muscular body pressed against mine. I felt warm and secure in his arms. I wished we could stay that way forever.

About the same time that Sarge filled my rectum, the Bull's hot juices flooded my mouth. 'Swallow it,' ordered the black man. 'Swallow my fuckin' sperm, cocksucker,' but there was just too much of it. It began oozing out of my mouth and dripping down my face. With his hand, the corporal swept the cum back into my mouth. Next, he stuck his fingers in my mouth.' Suck 'em, bitch. Suck my cum off my fingers.' Then, he rubbed his hand through my hair to remove any residual cum. Next, he shoved his cock back into my mouth. 'Suck it, cocksucker. Suck my dick dry. Suck out every last fuckin' drop.'

After I had swallowed all of the cream, Sarge rolled off of me, the two men hurled me onto the floor, and Bull fell down beside Sarge, their arms and legs intertwined as if they had just shared some fraternal ritual. Ah, the ultimate in male bonding: to share a beer and a fuck.

'Fuck, man,' Sarge struggled to catch his breath. 'I told you I was gonna give you the fuckin' of your life, didn't I?'

Just when I thought it was over, Sarge turned to Sport, 'OK, private, your turn.'

The young man, who had been fondling his dick and balls the whole time but not really jacking off, came forward. The sergeant yanked the private's arm and pulled him down to the floor on top of me. Then, he pushed his face into mine, the soldier's dog tags slapping my chin. The private knew what was expected of him, but I sure as hell didn't. When he started kissing me, my jaw fell open reflexively. I never imagined that he would stick his tongue in my mouth, but he did. God, did he ever! With the most perfectly formed lips I had ever seen or tasted, he gave me the deepest, longest, wettest kiss - and man, could he kiss! Sweet lips, sweet Jeezus! As he kissed, he rhythmically dry-humped my leg with his swollen hose. Now this was more like it! Finally, I was getting some real pleasure out of this ambush. I was frenetic with desire, but I had to control myself. I could not give these men any sign that I approved of their kidnapping me.

'On the bed, Sport,' ordered the sergeant as he and the corporal got up to make room. The two of them pulled me up and sat me down on top of the young stud, who was now lying on his back with his surface-to-air missile sticking straight up into the air. They lowered me onto his rigid pole and ordered me to pump away. My gorgeous hairy hunk straddled my blond Adonis's face and got his balls licked. As I looked at these two spectacular bodies, so different, but so hot, each in its own way, I thought my own dick would explode. I could no longer restrain my urges. 'Well, lookie here,' mocked the sergeant. 'Our little princess has a hard-on. I told you he was a fag.'

The sergeant and the corporal continued their trash talk. 'Fuck his ass, Sport. Show him what a man you are. Lick those balls, cunt. Oh, yeah. God, that feels good. Fuck! Damn! Fuck! Holy shit! Fuck!'

The corporal pinched my nipples and every so often slapped my dick as it bobbed up and down. My balls were aching so badly, I just wanted him to grab my meat and jack me off, but he was more interested in torturing me than satisfying me.

With me on top, the kid's stiff prick found my prostate and drove me out of my fuckin' mind. I didn't know if they would interpret my screams as indications of pain or pleasure, but at that point, I didn't really give a shit. I could no longer hold back. I shot a rope of cum that flew right over Sport's body and landed on the sergeant's balls, which Sport kept licking. I shot stream after stream, coating his smooth hairless torso from chin to crotch. God, what a relief! I might get the shit beaten out of me for that, I thought, but I didn't care. I really needed that. I never needed anything so badly in my life.

'I'm cummin',' panted the young man, at which point the brawny sergeant moved aside, and the corporal lifted me up off the kid and began to pump his shaft. He came, and came, and came. The first two shots flew right over his head. The next four landed across his face and chest. He must have released at least 10 loads.

Bull shoved my face against the young hottie's belly, rubbing it into our combined jizz. 'Lick it up,' he commanded, 'but don't swallow it.' I slurped up every drop from his fuzzy dick to his ripped abs, up to his solid chest, lingering over the nipples (I figured I might as well get as much pleasure as I could from this experience), then on up to his neck. Then, Bull grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head and pressed my lips against Sport's. The kid opened his mouth, and we again kissed long and deep, only this time we slobbered our blended crème de la crème all over each other's lips and tongues. I licked the cum off his face, lapped up every drop that ran down his cheeks, and scooped it back into his waiting mouth. My God, it was the hottest, wettest kiss I've ever experienced. Then, he scraped the residual cum off my face with his dog tags and dipped them into my mouth to slurp clean. What the dog tags did not get off my face, he licked off, and we deep kissed again. I thought I'd pop another boner right then and there, but I didn't want to let on to the other two guys how much I was actually loving this moment.

When Bull pulled me off the young stud, I saw that he was sporting another erection. 'Permission to fuck the bastard,' he said to the sergeant.

Oh, my God, I thought. He'll rip me apart with that howitzer.

'It's getting late,' said Sarge, 'and we need to get back to the base. Maybe tomorrow.'

Tomorrow? Tomorrow! 'Aren't you going to let me go?' I asked.

'Not yet,' he replied. 'This is our last free weekend before we ship out to Iraq on Monday morning. It may be a long time before we get some good pussy, so we're gonna make hay while we can.'

'Tie him up, boys,' he said as he pulled a long stretch of nylon rope out of a bag that I had not noticed before. They strapped me spread-eagle to the four corners of the bed. 'I wouldn't squirm too much if I was you,' said Sarge. 'That rope'll burn your skin.'

'What am I supposed to do with this hard-on?' asked Bull.

'Well, we don't have time to worry about that right now. You can fuck the private here in the back of the truck on the way back to the base.'

Thank, God, I gulped. He could have killed me with that thing - although I did wish that I could have witnessed him pounding his shiny black dick up that lily white ass.

The three of them got dressed, and on his way out the door, Sarge smirked, 'Pleasant dreams. We'll be back in the morning after my workout.' I thought it was strange that he did not lock the door.

Saturday night

Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night. I tried to get free of the ropes, but there was no use. The sergeant was right; I only succeeded in rubbing my skin raw.

I had really lost track of time at that point, so I can only imagine how much had elapsed, but I guess that about two or three hours had passed when I heard feet rustling outside. Then, there were voices. Two men, it sounded like. I was very apprehensive at first; would they be friends or foe? The voices came closer. 'Looks like someone left a light on in the cabin,' said one of the men. 'We should probably check it out.'

I held my breath in anticipation as the door slowly swung open. Then, I let out a huge sigh of relief. 'Oh, thank God,' I exclaimed as I saw the two uniformed men, a park ranger and a deputy sheriff. 'These three men kidnapped me, and I don't want to tell you what terrible things they did to me.'

The men stood quietly as I rattled on. Finally, the ranger spoke sadistically, 'Well, sir, I guess this just ain't your lucky day.'

'What do you mean?' I asked nervously.

Instead of answering me directly, though, the ranger turned to the deputy and, rubbing his crotch, snickered, 'Looks like Sarge left us another hot one.'

'Well, we'll find out just how hot he is,' replied the deputy, 'but I gotta say he's better looking than the last two.'

'I'll bet Sarge's got him all broken in, too,' added the ranger.

Two points were now blatantly obvious. First, these guys did not just stumble across the cabin; Sarge had sent them. Second, I was really in deep shit.

The deputy was the first to approach me. He straddled my chest and pulled his gun from the holster. 'You remember the rules?' he asked while rubbing the gun against my cheeks and lips.

'Yes,' I stammered.

'Yes, what?' he barked.

'Yes, sir,' I replied.

He put the gun back in the holster, probably so that I would not lose sight of it. The way that his gun belt lay low across his abdomen accentuated the bulge of his crotch, which really didn't need any extra help anyway, but there it was. He scooted upward and buried the crotch into my face. He made no effort to unzip his pants; he just kept rubbing.

When he climbed off of me, I saw that the ranger had removed his khaki uniform, and the deputy quickly stripped off his blue uniform as well. Both men were actually quite handsome: mid twenties, athletic, hairy-chested, 6'1' or 6'2'. The deputy had a dark complexion that matched his black hair and dark eyes, but his physique and the pattern of hair on his chest reminded me of Chris Evans. (Aaah, Chris Evans! Now there's a man whose image I've beaten off to more times than I can count!). Like the sergeant when I first saw him at the gym, the deputy looked like he hadn't shaved in three or four days. The ranger looked more like a surfer: fair skinned, but tanned, hazel eyes, sandy blond hair on both his head and chest. Except for a sinfully alluring treasure trail, there was no hair on his abdomen. He made me think of Ken Ryker in his younger days - except for the cock. These men's cocks were about average, like mine, but the deputy had balls like coconuts, huge and hairy. Both looked like they might have been jocks in high school or college. They walked and talked with the confident swagger that jocks often display.

They untied the ropes and pulled me up from the bed. 'I think maybe we'd better frisk him,' said the deputy.

What the fuck! I thought. I'm fuckin' naked! Where the fuck would I be hiding anything? But, of course, I said nothing.

'Against the wall,' ordered the deputy as he pushed me forward. 'Now, spread 'em.' With his foot, he kicked mine apart. 'Why don't you do the honors, Dusty.'

'I'd love to, Speed.'

Dusty. The deputy called the ranger Dusty. That nickname probably had something to do with his occupation. But Speed? Was he a fast driver or a former track star, or was the name perhaps a reference to drugs? Why did they not care if I knew their names and where they worked? Were they planning to dispose of me when they were done with me?

Standing behind me, Ranger Dusty began frisking me, starting at my feet. When he got to my thighs, he reached underneath and rubbed my cock and balls. Next, he slowly rubbed my belly and then my chest. He pinched my nipples, softly at first and then hard. I choked back a scream. His last gesture really surprised me. He leaned up against my back and held me, not roughly, but tenderly. He smelled of pine trees and gunshot smoke. He rested his head on my shoulder, took a deep breath, and sighed faintly, like he was drinking in the experience. His dick began to stiffen, and he stuck it between my legs, rubbing it gently against my balls. Incredible! He wasn't abusing me; he was loving me.

'Enough,' shouted the deputy. He dragged me back to the bed, threw me down on my knees, and, with his foot, bent me over onto the mattress. 'We're not done inspecting you,' he snarled. He pulled out his billy club and began to shove it up my ass. It was only a little more than an inch thick, but it was cold. He pushed it deeper and deeper until I thought he would punch my guts out.

'You want me to stop, bitch?' he asked. 'Huh?' I tried to beg him, but he had my face pressed into the mattress, muffling my cries. 'I bet you'd rather have my hot cock up your ass than this cold stick, wouldn't you?'

'Yes,' I pleaded to the mattress.

Grabbing my hair, he jerked my head back off the mattress and asked, 'What?'

'Yes, sir,' I replied.

'Yes, sir, what?' he asked.

'Yes, sir, please. I want to feel your hot cock inside of me.'

'Of course, you do,' he drawled sarcastically, jerking out the billy club and shoving his cock in its place. He made no effort to ease it in. He just slammed away, saying things like, 'Yeah, you like my fuckin' cock up your fuckin' ass, don't you, bitch' and 'Take that, you whore.'

While the deputy was banging my ass like there was no tomorrow, the ranger moved around and sat on the bed in front of me. 'Rub your tongue under my balls,' he said. After a couple of minutes, he said, 'OK, now take my balls into your mouth.' I did one at a time, and then he said, 'Now both of them together.' It was a strain, but I eventually got both of them in my mouth and rolled them around on my tongue. 'Lick my dick.' he said. Another minute elapsed. 'Now suck,' he said, and I did. Suddenly, the sweet, tender lover who had frisked me only a few minutes before turned into a sexual sadist. He latched onto the back of my head and slammed it down onto his cock, causing me to choke and gag. I tried to come up for air, but he pressed so hard that I could feel his pubic hairs against my nose. 'Eat it,' he snarled. 'Eat my fuckin' dick. His cock began to pulsate as he unloaded gobs of goo down my throat. I could not take it all, so I again tried to pull back, but again he pressed harder and harder. The creamy white liquid drooled from my mouth and even into my nasal cavity and out my nose. 'Eat it,' he repeated. 'Eat me raw.' Finally, he let me come up for air, but only for a few seconds. He slammed my head down again. His dick was still hard as a rock. With the choking in my throat and the excruciating pain in my ass, my eyes began to fill with tears, which streamed down my cheeks and mixed with the cum dripping from my mouth and nose. He let me up again, paused, and again impaled my throat with his cock. I could not believe how long he maintained an erection after shooting his wad. When his dick was no longer so stiff, he let up, wiped the cum off my face with his tool, and commanded, 'Lick it clean, cocksucker.'

All the while the ranger was fucking my face, the deputy was relentlessly pounding my ass as fast and furiously as he could. 'Take that fuckin' cock, motherfucker.' I could feel his coconut balls flapping against my butt. He drove his dick so deep into my ass that I thought for a moment that he had pushed his balls up my hole as well. 'Oh, God, I'm gonna cum,' he squealed. 'Oh, God, God, God!' His whole body, including his vocal cords, tensed. 'Oh, shit! Fuck, fuck! Ohhh, God! Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! FUUUCCCKKK!'

Then, there was one final sigh of relief, or was it exhaustion? He collapsed across my back. As he did, the side of his face brushed against mine, causing his coarse beard to scratch my cheek. Compared to the pile-driving I had just gotten in my ass and my throat, the cheek pain was minimal, and I actually liked the manliness of it.

After resting on the bed for a few minutes, they got up, and the deputy went for his uniform, but instead of putting it on, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint. I was stunned. 'Want some weed?' he asked. 'It's good stuff. We got it off of a couple of teenagers we caught screwin' down at the campground. We were gonna fuck 'em and let 'em go, but when we checked their IDs, we found out that they were too young, so we just took their stash instead.' He lit up, took a puff, and again offered it to me. I declined as politely as I knew how under the circumstances. 'Well, suit yourself, but Dusty and me are gonna go outside and have a couple of these, but I gotta warn you, pot makes me hornier than hell, so we'll be back with our dicks fully loaded and ready to go.'

They didn't bother to tie me back up. I guess they figured that I was too whipped to try an escape, and, besides, where would I go? They didn't get dressed either. They just took their weapons and strolled out like they were on a family picnic.

An hour or so later, the deputy called from outside the cabin. 'Hey, dude, come on out here and soak up some fresh air. It's a beautiful night in the woods. You oughta come out and enjoy it.'

'Dude'? He's gone from calling me 'bitch' and 'whore' to 'dude'?

Given that I really had no other choice, I went outside to join the two men, who were sitting on a flat wooden bench. They scooted apart to make room for me to sit between them. Three naked men sitting tightly together on a park bench in the woods in the middle of the night! Incomprehensible! Even more strange, the deputy put his arm around me and slurred, 'Your're all right, buddy. I like you. You've got a nice tight ass and a pretty good looking dick too,' he said, squeezing me closer with one arm and patting me on the chest with the other. 'You need to loosen up a bit, though,' he counseled, more like a concerned big brother than a domineering master. 'Here, have a toke,' he cajoled, again offering me the pot. At that point, I figured, 'Why the hell not?' so I took a puff and handed it back to him. 'Naw,' he said. 'Take another swig, a real deep one this time,' so I did. 'That's good, bro,' he drawled. 'Have another.' After I finished off the cigarette, he lit up another, and we passed it around. 'That make you horny, bro? Did me. Weed always makes me horny. Of course, it don't take much to make me horny, ha, ha, ha. Ain't that right, Dusty?'

Dusty, who was now as mellow as a sleepy child and had swiveled around to lay his woozy head in my naked lap, confirmed, 'Damn right, Speed-o.' As he spoke, he unwittingly drooled onto my thigh.'

'Gawd, bro, look at what you just did,' Speed scolded him.

'Oh, sorry, bro,' Dusty apologized sheepishly.

'Damn, Dusty. I can't take you anywhere, can I? Now clean up that mess.'

Dusty paused and rolled his eyes, as if trying to figure out how he was going to clean it up with nothing to wipe it with. Then, as if hitting on a reasonable solution, he turned his head and licked up the dripping saliva.

'Oh, gross, bro. You ain't nothin' but a fuckin' slob.'

Dusty looked up at Speed from my lap with great big puppy dog eyes and whimpered for forgiveness.

Unable to resist, Speed patted him on the top of his head and snickered, 'That's OK, boy, I'll keep you anyway.'

'Woof!' barked Dusty lovingly. 'Woof! Woof!'

Then, rewarding Dusty for his resourcefulness, Speed drooled onto my thigh. 'Here, boy! Go get it.' And Speed eagerly lapped it up.

'Woof, woof!'

Speed laughed at his loyal companion and spit again and again. Each time, Dusty lapped it up, Speed laughed, and Dusty barked. Eventually, Dusty's barks turned to laughter as well, each man then howling alternately in a comic duel.

After the silliness had run its course, Speed turned to me and squeezed me even closer to him, more like a drinking buddy than a captive sex slave. 'Tell you what, bro,' he said, still high as a kite. You sit right here on the bench, and me and Dusty are gonna stick our dicks in your mouth, OK?' He acted more like he was offering me a beer than his cock.

'Don't you want to go inside?' I stammered.

'Naaahhh,' he giggled. 'Me and Dusty's nature lovers. You love nature, don't you, bro?'

'Well, yeah, I guess so.'

'Of course, you do.' Rising from the bench, he turned to face me, bracing himself against my shoulders. 'Everybody loves nature. Especially when it's this kind of nature,' he chortled as he flapped his dick in my face. He laughed more heartily, taking special pride in his own cleverness. 'First, though, we got somethin' else.' He produced a small bottle from out of nowhere and took a deep whiff, first up one nostril and then the other. Then he handed it to Dusty, who did the same and passed it on to me. I didn't really know what it was at the time, but I figured that I had nothing to lose at that point, so I took it and breathed deeply. 'Good,' said Speed. 'If the weed hasn't already made you horny, that will.'

Both men got up from the bench and stood directly in front of me. I began to suck their dicks, first one and then the other, alternating between them. Then, when they were both good and hard, Deputy Speed said, 'Suck 'em together, bro. Me and Dusty wanna see both of our dicks in your mouth at the same time.' It was a stretch at first, but I eventually managed to get both dicks into my mouth simultaneously. Speed, once again taken with his own inventiveness, dripped his saliva onto the adjoining dicks as I drew them in and out of my mouth.

'Shit, dude,' shouted Dusty, unable to contain his glee, 'that's awesome, man, fuckin' awesome.' Emulating his idol, Dusty also spit on the dicks and cackled hysterically at his prowess. 'Fuck-in' awe-some,' he whooped, stressing each syllable. He punched me on the arm, not in a hurtful way, but more like a frat brother congratulating another on his latest conquest. 'You REALLY know how to suck dick, man. Hee, hee, hee. Haw, haw, haw. Fuckin' awesome! FUCK-IN' AWE-SOME!' Was he deriving his euphoria from the sight of two dicks in one mouth at the same time or the feel of his own dick rubbing against his best friend's?

After several minutes of the cocksucking, sometimes singularly, sometimes in tandem, Dusty finally pulled back, slowly leaned over, and gently caressed my face with his manly hands. When he gazed longingly into my eyes and smiled at me wistfully, I thought for one brief moment, oh, my God, he looks just like Rusty Joiner! Then, his expression turned somber, mellow, and he spoke softly in the sweetest, sexiest voice, 'I'm gonna fuck your ass now, OK, bro?' I imagined that it was the tone he had used each time he had de-flowered a virgin in his teen years. He was asking my permission? What the hell was I gonna say, 'No, I think you boys have had enough for one day!' He was gonna fuck me anyway, so we might as well do it gently. Besides, how could I resist a seduction like that?

He offered his hand the way a gentleman would to a lady and helped me off the bench. Then, he helped me to my knees and bent me over. Deputy Speed walked around to the other side and massaged my face with his cock and balls before placing his dick into my mouth.

Dusty, before inserting his penis in my ass, also gently rubbed his cock and balls over the surrounding area. Then, he leaned across my back and caressed me as he had done when frisking me. He laid his cheek next to mine and just enjoyed the moment. He nibbled on my ear and licked behind it. Then, he whispered something into my ear, but his speech was so soft and slurred that I could not make out what he said. Finally, he gave me a butterfly kiss on the cheek and slowly raised himself back up. I expected him to ram his cock into me like Speed had done, but instead, he spread my ass cheeks and started to rim me. Oh, God, it felt good. If the weed and the poppers hadn't loosened me up enough, this sure as hell did. He licked and licked and licked, which was fine with me. I didn't care if he never stopped. Ultimately, he did stop, though, but then he leaned forward again and whispered tenderly in my ear, 'I think we're ready now.' He gently inched his penis into my hole. 'Don't worry, baby. I know it hurts at first, but don't worry. The pain will wear off, and you'll love it.' Once again, he was giving the simulated virgin the benefit of his experience. He slowly pushed his dick in deeper until it was completely in. He began to pump carefully, reassuring me with each stroke. 'It's getting better, ain't it babe? It feels good, don't it? Didn't I tell you it would?' Every so often he would pause with his love shaft fully inserted and just sway his pelvis to give me the full pleasure of his manhood. 'Oh, babe, you've got a sweet ass,' he moaned. 'Sweet, sweet, sweet ass. Ummm, ummm, wrap your ass muscles around my penis and squeeze tight, baby.' He was teaching me how to return the pleasure. 'Oh, yeah, baby. That's it. That's the way to do it. That's the way to please a man.' He gripped my hips and pumped harder and harder, not brutally like Speed had done before, but passionately, succumbing to the primal instinct. 'Hang on, baby, we're goin' for a magic carpet ride. Oooh, baby, you're the one. Nobody's got a hot fuckin' ass like you. Oh, yeah, I want you to have my dick, baby. I wanna give it all to you. You want it, don't you, baby? You want my cock deep inside of you, lovin' you, don't you, baby?'

'Yes,' I blurted out, unable to resist his phenomenal seduction. I fell victim to the passion and released my mouth from Speed's cock long enough to plead, 'Oh, yes, Dusty, I want your hot dick so bad. I want you inside of me. Take me, Dusty, take me. Take me on that magic carpet ride.'

The more I relished the feel of Dusty's hot shaft massaging my rectum, the more I savored the taste and feel of Speed's cock in my mouth. I paused just long enough to look up at him and say, 'I love you, bro. I love your fuckin' dick. Ummm. Tastes so gooood. Give it to me, bro. Love me like a real man.' And I went back to sucking it like a pro.

'Oh, Dusty, I love you too. I love your fuckin' dick. Oh, God, Dusty, let me have it, let me have it. Let me feel every inch of your pulsating manhood deep inside of me.'

'Oh, shit, baby, you're really turnin' me on. You're makin' me fuckin' hot. Oh, jeez. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, God, take my fuckin' cock, baby. Take it all.'

'Oh, yes, Dusty. God, you are so fuckin' hot. Oh, fuck me, baby. Fill my ass with your hot juices. I wanna feel you explode in my ass, you gorgeous fuckin' hot stud.

'Ah, ah, ah, ah. Oh, fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FU...AAAAHHHHH, AAAAHHHH, AAAAHHHH, oh, oh, oh, AAAAHHHH, AAAAHHHH, oh, oh...oh, God! AAAAHHHH, AAAAHHHH, ah, ah, ah, ah.' I felt each massive spasm as he exploded inside of me. 'Whew! Holy, shit! Oh, God, baby,' he panted, trying to catch his breath. 'Oh, Whew! Whew! Whew! Oh, baby, you nearly killed me,' he said, falling down on top of me again. 'I've never cum so fuckin' hard in my life! Goddam, that was fuckin' incredible. Oh, oh.'

'Oh, God, Dusty, you're making me hotter than fuckin' hell,' yelled Speed. 'Oh, shit! Suck my fuckin' cock, bro. Oh, yeah, suck it good.'

'Suck him, tight, baby,' Dusty whispered with all the breath he could muster. 'Suck my pard'ner, baby, suck him off. Suck his fuckin' cock.'

'Oh, shit, bro. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Oh, God, ah, AH, AAAHHH, AAAAHHHH, AAAAHHHH.' Speed screamed so loud that I thought he would wake up the whole goddam county. He shot load after load into my mouth. He and Dusty must have each shot at least a dozen loads. I took enormous satisfaction in the knowledge that I had pleasured them so much.

As the three of us stumbled back toward the cabin, I flattered them sincerely, 'Hell, boys, the girls have gotta REALLY love you two.' Speed, the less modest of the two, boasted, 'Yeah, they do, 'cause they keep comin' back for more. Ain't that right, Dusty?' The two of them slapped each other on the back and laughed in self-satisfaction. Once in the cabin, we curled up together on the bed. Oh, God, this was a dream come true, being squeezed between two beautiful men who had just made tender, passionate love to me.

After about 15 minutes or so, Speed got up and announced, 'Sorry, bro, but Dusty and me gotta get goin'. We're actually on duty tonight, so we've gotta get back to work.'

I watched them lustfully as they put their manly uniforms back on. Once they were dressed, I asked Speed if I could rub his bulging blue-suited crotch one more time, and he, of course, gladly consented. Dusty leaned forward and lightly kissed my cheek once more and informed me apologetically, 'Sorry, baby, but we're gonna have to tie you back up now. Sarge'll be really pissed if he comes back and finds you gone.' I was stunned, but helpless.

Sunday morning

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halothenthehorns · 5 months

Text

Chapter 7: WE MEET THE GOD WITH TWO FACES

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it! For everyone else, here is an extra chapter this week to celebrate this mundane Thursday!

PJOPJOPJOPJO

Will was whistling cheerfully to himself as he flipped to the next chapter like he wasn't about to read of the most evil place right beneath his camp. Nico had spent immeasurable hours down there feeling so alone and wishing for Percy's company and the stupid jokes he'd crack and the great, protective warrior he was to help him.

Looking back on the running, terror, broken bones and constant isolation left him unsurprised how different he was from those around him in retrospect. His first friend had been a ghost who deceived him.

It was a nice thought for a moment as Will read the chapter title, that at least as he remembered the stenches and adrenaline rushes of his own in to vivid detail to come right along with Percy, at least he'd come out with friends now.

Alex's eyes were alight at once with whom Percy was set to meet next. "If I could vote for you to kill a god, it'll be this one!"

"Alex, no," Magnus said in vain once more.

"Where's the downside?" He demanded. "Nobody would ever get stabbed in the back again, the worst of cowardly moves!"

"That's not how that works, in the slightest," Thalia sadly corrected. "Just because you killed Zeus doesn't mean lightning wouldn't flash through the sky and storms wouldn't come." Though she suspected it was happening above at just the hypothesis being put in the world.

Percy got an amused look in place as he imagined Zeus in his chair spitting out his drink and glancing around suspiciously.

"Poo," Alex huffed. It was actually a bit worrisome a two-face god was going to get one over on Percy instead, as nice as he was. He swore right then if this god resembled Quintus for one second he'd have to face facts on that answer.

We made it a hundred feet before we were hopelessly lost.

"Life goals. I can't make it down the block half the time without forgetting where I'm going some days," Jason said sardonically.

"It's a maze," Thalia rolled her eyes, "and Percy! It's a miracle he didn't get lost turning around."

"Your faith in me is instilling," but Percy's voice was nothing but accepting facts.

The tunnel looked nothing like the one Annabeth and I had stumbled into before. Now it was round like a sewer,

"If you actually run into a ninja turtle, I will take back every crack I ever said about you," Alex promised.

"Eh, depends on which one," Magnus mock agreed.

I shined a light through one of the portholes out of curiosity,

"Your soul animal is officially a cat Percy," Will chuckled.

"I still say it's seaweed," Thalia scoffed.

but I couldn't see anything. It opened into infinite darkness.

I thought I heard voices on the other side, but it may have been just the cold wind.

"Already understanding why Chris lost his mind down there," Jason muttered.

Annabeth tried her best to guide us. She had this idea that we should stick to the left wall.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," she said, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

"Good in theory," Nico was already shaking his head though, "not an execution that can be followed." Which she already knew from her studying, mildly annoying him why she thought she was smarter than this place already.

Unfortunately, as soon as she said that, the left wall disappeared. We found ourselves in the middle of a circular chamber with eight tunnels leading out, and no idea how we'd gotten there.

Magnus made a very loud, awkward laugh that died quickly at this place literally mocking them in the face. It wasn't funny, but he wasn't screaming in terror, so this was better, right?

"Um, which way did we come in?" Grover said nervously.

"Just turn around," Annabeth said.

"If there is a brick wall behind you I will have no choice but to really laugh," Alex promised.

We each turned toward a different tunnel. It was ridiculous. None of us could decide which way led back to camp.

"Trippy, I actually like that answer better," Alex still laughed any ways.

"At least somebody does," Percy sighed.

"Left walls are mean," Tyson said.

"Tyson, still holding strong with the best lines in these," Jason applauded, and they couldn't decide how much sarcasm was in that.

"Which way now?"

Annabeth swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight tunnels. As far as I could tell, they were identical. "That way," she said.

"No consensus huh?" Thalia chuckled. "No voting, not even a flip of a coin?"

"Annabeth was our compass," Percy shrugged without surprise.

"I'm going to encase you in a magnet one of these days so you have to figure something out for yourself," Thalia mock threatened.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Deductive reasoning."

"So...you're guessing."

"Just come on," she said.

"See, exactly the plan I would have had. Bring the magnet on!" Percy laughed.

"Only you," Thalia shook her head at these two.

The tunnel she'd chosen narrowed quickly. The walls turned to gray cement, and the ceiling got so low that pretty soon we were hunching over. Tyson was forced to crawl.

"Poor guy," Will frowned, "I bet he was carrying all the heavy stuff too."

"If he could have smashed his way to the surface I wouldn't blame him," Percy agreed.

Grover's hyperventilating was the loudest noise in the maze. "I can't stand it anymore," he whispered. "Are we there yet?"

"Thalia, your kid wants you," Percy smirked.

"On the weekends he's still yours," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"We started this quest on a Thursday!"

"I'm taking an extended vacation," she said with an unamused air, this joke had officially gone to a level that wasn't funny as images of her mom came to mind.

"We've been down here maybe five minutes," Annabeth told him.

"It's been longer than that," Grover insisted.

"I actually believe him on that, considering it was a few minutes to you but hours last time," Will nodded.

"And time means very little down there," Nico needlessly reminded.

"And a magical satyr thing that knows the time of the day too probably," Magnus rolled his eyes.

"And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!"

"I bet he got lost too," Percy said in something close to sympathy.

We kept shuffling forward. Just when I was sure the tunnel would get so narrow it would squish us, it opened into a huge room. I shined my light around the walls and said, "Whoa."

"The good kind or the bad kind?" Magnus already had a pit in his stomach no matter the answer, with Percy one could easily mean the other.

"The mildly impressive kind," Percy shrugged with a small grin.

The whole room was covered in mosaic tiles. The pictures were grimy and faded, but I could still make out the colors—red, blue, green, gold. The frieze showed the Olympian gods at a feast. There was my dad, Poseidon, with his trident, holding out grapes for Dionysus to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs, and Hermes was flying through the air on his winged sandals. The pictures were beautiful, but they weren't very accurate. I'd seen the gods. Dionysus was not that handsome, and Hermes's nose wasn't that big.

"Yeah, but like," Will was shaking with suppressed laughter, "if you knew the gods were real, you wouldn't question how they wanted to be painted."

"I can't draw, I wouldn't know," Percy rolled his eyes. Even if he tried doodling stick figures, he wouldn't exactly be doing his best to care.

Jason didn't hear them, there was a low buzzing in his ears. Something about the way that was described, something he'd been absently wondering but didn't know how to put into words until this moment. That sounded Roman. Should he know this labyrinth existed? He was certain he'd never been in, but finally, at this moment, he had the tiniest bit of a guess wondering if he'd ever tried to find this place.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It looked like it hadn't held water in a long time.

"That was the part you said whoa too, another fountain," Alex smirked.

"Guilty, I still felt bad about mine," Percy grinned.

"What is this place?" I muttered. "It looks—"

"Roman," Annabeth said. "Those mosaics area about two thousand years old."

"It must be exhausting knowing everything," Nico huffed.

"Probably," Will said innocently. The Athena cabin was the worst about asking for help, but when he saw one to many sleepless nights on them, he was a tad guilty about slipping something into their meals and blaming it on Travis and Connor's pranks.

"But how can they be Roman?" I wasn't that great on ancient history, but I was pretty sure the Roman Empire never made it as far as Long Island.

"And you think the Greeks did?" Magnus asked in concern. The whole point of these odd books was their never ending migration here and how that mingled in.

"I didn't think they brought souvenirs from the Roman Empire that toppled them," Percy rolled his eyes while Jason looked like he was swallowing his teeth one by one in consternation.

Thalia cleared her throat sharply to keep them moving fast when she saw.

"The Labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth said. "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

"I wish those words to never be spoken in that order again," Magnus groaned.

"That is so cool!" Alex yelped.

"Or those," Magnus huffed, it never meant anything good in this lot.

"Like, like Daedalus really built a second layer into the earth that's as alive as this planet!"

"Man was a mad genius," Percy agreed with a kind of awesome dread as he pictured someone in a white lab coat with lightning crackling screaming about it being alive over the whole planet.

"You make it sound like it's alive."

A groaning noise echoed from the tunnel in front of us.

"Does anybody speak labyrinth?" Will asked with mildly less cheer than usual, he didn't at all like the idea of being underground. "Maybe it's trying to tell you which way to go."

"I wish we could ask the labyrinth if they prefer he or she pronouns," Alex tapped his chin in thought. "I know most people depict the earth as feminine, but that gets into a long line of stereotypical depictions of nurturing and-"

Alex was only one part taking the mickey and one part serious, so he laughed it off and shelved that for later as Will politely cleared his throat to keep going over an answer they couldn't get anyways.

"Let's not talk about it being alive," Grover whimpered. "Please?"

"All right," Annabeth said. "Forward."

"Down the hall with the bad sounds?" Tyson said. Even he looked nervous.

"Yeah," Annabeth said. "The architecture is getting older. That's a good sign. Daedalus's workshop would be in the oldest part."

"And because she said that, I'm guessing it's going to remodel itself in twenty feet to look like a stainless steel lab." Jason frowned.

"I just hope there's not a monkey in there playing on the computer, I do not want to walk into an alternate dimension by accident," Percy wasn't sure he'd have the heart to fight cute animals if they were the dominant species.

That made sense.

"I'm glad it did to you," Magnus muttered, now personally trying not to imagine Daedalus packing up a phone booth and carrying his workshop around to never be found no matter what logic was used.

But soon the maze was toying with us—we went fifty feet and the tunnel turned back to cement, with brass pipes running down the sides. The walls were spray-painted with graffiti. A neon tagger sign read MOZ RULZ.

"I'm thinking this is not Roman," I said helpfully.

"You never know, I bet some ancient Roman could have gone by the name of Moz and been way ahead of time on, um, pipework," Will snickered.

Nico couldn't really find the humor in it, Will would have to really try to make him laugh about anything to do with this place, but it was a tad amusing to see Thalia roll her eyes at someone other than Percy.

Annabeth took a deep breath, then forged ahead.

"I've found the best way is to ignore him too," Thalia mock agreed as if Annabeth were her to commiserate with.

Her cousin was, and he didn't bother to muffle a snort.

Every few feet the tunnels twisted and turned and branched off. The floor beneath us changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. There was no sense to any of it. We stumbled into a wine cellar—a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks—like we were walking through somebody's basement, only there was no exit above us, just more tunnels leading on.

"Jeez, I'm getting claustrophobic just hearing about this," Alex tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Can't exactly go outside and stretch our legs in the sun too," Magnus agreed with an uneasy twitch. This room was by no means unbearable or small, but he'd never thought he'd have to associate constant common amenities with entrapment. And that group had it even worse down there.

Alex clearly wasn't going to let that keep him down though as he bounced back and asked, "please tell me you nabbed one of those! I can't even imagine the vintage on a long-lost bottle of wine!"

"I bet it was a cellar only Dionysus uses," Percy shook his head quickly. "Do you want to find out what would happen if we disturbed one of those cobwebs?"

Alex looked very much like he was contemplating that answer, and Thalia sighed once again at what a bad influence all of these idiots were on each other.

Later the ceiling turned to wooden planks, and I could hear voices above us and the creaking of footsteps, as if we were walking under some kind of bar. It was reassuring to hear people, but then again, we couldn't get to them. We were stuck down here with no way out.

"You're telling me if Tyson really wanted to he couldn't smash a house down?" Alex scoffed.

"Not a hundred percent sure," Percy admitted, "the labyrinth might fight him, turn into something even he couldn't break and shrink on us. Do you want to make the sentient maze mad?"

Alex didn't seem as concerned at the implications of that as Percy would have hoped, but then, he really should have known better by now.

Then we found our first skeleton.

It was the first dead body Percy had ever seen, and it didn't look like those fake skeletons for a Halloween decoration. He'd been killing monsters for years now, and yet he never thought of the mess they left behind as their form of a soulless husk. He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully, his mind flickering to his mother and her clear sight. What she saw through the dust. She probably would have shielded his eyes from this, but it made his head and stomach groan in symbiotic pain to imagine her down there.

He was dressed in white clothes, like some kind of uniform. A wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to him.

"A milkman," Annabeth said.

"Those guys actually existed?" Nico asked in surprise. "I thought that was a weird gag in cartoons."

"It was a real job," Thalia nodded.

"When the fridge was invented, they went out of business," Magnus added helpfully.

"Huh, learn something new every day," Nico said with a surprised smile.

"What?" I asked.

"They used to deliver milk."

"Yeah, I know what they are,

"Which kind of concerns me how much Annabeth thinks of you," Thalia told him with sympathy.

"She never knew with me after I told her I thought my TV just wasn't big enough to see some old cartoon character's faces," Percy shrugged.

but...that was when my mom was little, like a million years ago. What's he doing here?"

"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth said.

"Those poor mortals," Magnus said with sorrow. He couldn't imagine how many little kids had fallen down there and never made it out. Maybe a few horror novels of things beneath the surface of the earth had been inspired by getting a peak down there, like the Labyrinth itself had enticed a kid with a clown and red balloon.

"Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."

"And yet sadly, we've let cretin fall off the insult radar," Alex shook his head as if taking personal responsibility for this.

"Something I hope you won't bring back with historic accuracy," Magnus muttered.

Grover gulped. "He's been down here a long time." He pointed to the skeleton's bottles, which were coated with white dust. The skeleton's fingers were clawing at the brick wall, like he had died trying to get out.

"Well I hardly thought he was casually walking around chugging milk," Jason winced in disgust for getting details.

"Only bones," Tyson said. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."

"The milkman doesn't bother me," Grover said.

"Dead bodies still bother me," Magnus offered in case anybody had been in doubt about this.

"I guess this is one of the side effects to falling asleep every night singing Circle of Life," Percy shrugged.

"It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell it?"

Tyson nodded. "Lots of monsters. But underground smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."

"Oh, good," Grover whimpered. "I thought maybe I was wrong."

"I can't think of a good instance of being happy to be wrong about smelling something," Alex nodded. "Usually it's food and I'm entirely upset I was wrong my senses lied to me."

"You smell smoke and think your house is on fire but your mom's just a bad cook," Thalia said with a way to twisted smile for that to just be a joke.

"Point to Thalia!" Alex chuckled all the same.

"We have to get deeper into the maze," Annabeth said. "There has to be a way to the center."

"I'm guessing taking a shovel and just digging won't work?" Nico rolled his eyes at her still trying to apply logic to any of this.

"The shovel would melt eventually," Will helpfully reminded.

"We could give her a spare shovel, gosh Will, be more creative," Percy snickered.

"I'm going to dump you in a volcano head first," Thalia sighed at them.

She led us to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft, and we arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain.

"Oh, so it even circles around! That's much worse than being lost forever in a maze of endless rooms!" Magnus's voice was choking up by the end as he tried not to sound hysterical.

"It had added some decoration," Percy didn't soothe him one bit with the uneasy frown he spoke with.

This time, we weren't alone.

What I noticed first were his faces. Both of them.

Nico tried his hardest to swallow the lump of jealousy and hurt in his throat. Percy hadn't been in there but a few hours and he got a visit from a god already? He'd been in there for weeks before he'd found Minos and gotten any handle on what to do. Afraid to sleep, starving, only surviving on water that bled from the walls from gods knew where as the ghosts whispered which way to go to get further down...

He told himself he should be grateful instead. He wasn't the child of the prophecy, nobody had cared what happened to him. He'd made his own way out eventually without anybody's help, not even Minos had been there every step of the way.

They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders, so his head was much wider than it should've been, kind of like a hammerhead shark's looking straight at him, all I saw were two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns.

Magnus was poking the middle of his forehead to make sure his head hadn't actually fallen apart at that newly brain-melting image.

"Not going to lie, when it said god of two faces, I didn't think it was going to be literal," Alex sounded grudgingly admirable of choosing to look like that. "I was picturing, like, two totally different faces melted together. Like the Batman villain."

"I have a feeling the two would still get along," Percy already had that now familiar look on his face like they should brace themselves for him to make a life long enemy.

He was dressed like a New York City doorman: a long black overcoat, shiny shoes, and a black top-hat that somehow managed to stay on his double-wide head.

"Classy," Will said in admiration.

"Never trust a man in a top hat," Alex scoffed.

"Now there's a story I'm sure," Magnus grinned.

"Don't get me started on Abe Lincoln," he agreed with distant eyes and a scowl at the ceiling.

"Well, Annabeth?" said his left face. "Hurry up!"

"Don't mind him," said the right face. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Uh...I don't..."

Tyson frowned. "That funny man has two faces."

Jason scratched awkwardly at his nose before stage whispering, "has anybody ever come up with a polite way to scold kids for doing that?"

"Um, let them be curious but make sure they're polite questions?" Thalia offered.

"I'm not putting Tyson in time out if he offends this guy," Percy rolled his eyes.

"The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded. "Now come along, miss."

"No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."

"I need to know real quick if you can sign a different conversation than you say out loud?" Percy asked Magnus.

"I suppose if you can have two conversations at once it's possible, but not typical," he shook his head.

"Yeah, good to know, I got no better answer than chopping this guy in half to shut him up," Percy scowled, already wishing to uncap his sword to stop this guy focusing solely on Annabeth.

The two-faced man regarded Annabeth as best he could out of the corners of his eyes. It was impossible to look at him straight on without focusing on one side or the other. And suddenly I realized that's what he was asking—he wanted Annabeth to choose.

Behind him were two exits, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. They hadn't been there our first time through the room. The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand. I wondered if this was a different room completely, but the frieze of the gods looked exactly the same.

Behind us, the doorway we'd come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics. We wouldn't be going back the way we came.

"The exits are closed," Annabeth said.

"Duh!" the man's left face said.

"Where do they lead?" she asked.

"One probably leads the way you wish to go," the right face said encouragingly. "The other leads to certain death."

"I—I know who you are," Annabeth said.

"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."

"Why are you trying to confuse me?" Annabeth asked.

"He's, um, not," Nico looked from the book to the others in concern if he was missing something. "He's pointing out the obvious as of right now. Does Annabeth find that confusing?"

Percy gave him the very exasperated sigh of a teacher explaining the obvious. "Just because she accepted the responsibility of something didn't mean she was okay with every layer of it." He knew that feeling all to well from all this big bad prophecy talk.

Nico looked at Percy with interest for how he'd unintentionally put that. He doubted Percy knew that's how he felt about what he'd said the other night, but it was another kind of relief to hear it put into words.

The right face smiled. "You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I—"

"We know you, Annabeth," the left face said. "We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision. You will have to make your choice sooner or later. And the choice may kill you."

I didn't know what they were talking about, but it sounded like it was about more than a choice between doors.

The color drained out of Annabeth's face. "No...I don't—"

"Leave her alone," I said.

"That honestly took a page more than I thought it would," Will told him.

"I'm not fool enough to think Annabeth can't handle her own fights," but Percy looked plenty agitated enough to try right then with or without her approval.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm your best friend," the right face said.

"I'm your worst enemy," the left face said.

"I'm Janus," both faces said in harmony. "God of Doorways.

"There's a god of doorways now?" Magnus asked, making the sign for door just to be sure. "What, did the Greeks have to stop and ask his permission and the owner before they entered?"

"He's not Greek!" Jason shouted at the top of his lungs like somebody had finally called on his name in class. He was more jazzed than if somebody had pumped him full of ambrosia...and yet so confused they might have put a Greek puzzle book in front of him for all the sense this made. "What the heck is a Roman god doing down there?"

"He's, ah, more symbolic than literal," Thalia was still watching Jason with mild concern as she tried to go on. "Let Will finish."

Beginnings. Endings. Choices."

"I guess that makes sense," Magnus agreed, though he still knew next time he walked down the block he'd get a twitch wondering about blood sacrifices and a crazy two-faced god throwing a key around following him. Gods forbid what someone was expected to do when a tree was cut down to make a door. Were you supposed to be making nice with Pan or the god you were using the wood for in that case?!

"I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson," said the right face. "But for now it's Annabeth's turn." He laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

"We complete each other like two sides of a door," Percy grumbled, not looking remotely impressed that, for once, a god had the same reaction to seeing both of them.

"Shut up!" his left face said. "This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!"

Jason had a bad feeling he'd had his own reunion with this God too, maybe not so literal and in person, but the intense feeling circling the room of nobody disagreeing with that felt personal.

With a sudden chill, I remembered the words of the prophecy: the child of Athena's final stand.

"Don't do it," I said.

"I'm afraid she has to," the right face said cheerfully.

Annabeth moistened her lips. "I—I chose—"

Before she could point to a door, a brilliant light flooded the room.

Magnus instinctively didn't like that. He worried Hearth would get hurt and freak out, the light being too bright and temporarily blinding him, and he only usually saw Blitz at night, so he might have to step up real quick with no clue how if whatever this was ever found them.

Janus raised his hands to either side of his head to cover his eyes. When the light died, a woman was standing at the fountain.

She was tall and graceful with long hair the color of chocolate, braided in plaits with gold ribbons. She wore a simple white dress, but when she moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water.

"Are we meeting Iris?" Alex asked with immediate interest. He really hoped the rainbow goddess was cool. One of them had to be, right?

The disappointed sigh Thalia gave was an answer before she even said, "not even close."

"Janus," she said, "are we causing trouble again?"

"N-no, milady!" Janus's right face stammered.

"Yes!" the left face said.

"At least now I know which face I like better," Jason said as if this had been a serious concern.

"I still don't like any part of him," Percy huffed, he'd never like anyone who had hassled Annabeth.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked.

"Not you, milady! I was talking to myself."

"I see," the lady said. "You know very well your visit is premature. The girl's time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave these heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down."

"What kind of door?" the left face asked.

Alex gave an involuntary laugh like he'd been punched. And he was so sure he'd hate this god, yet that had been the first question to come to his mind too.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Because French doors are nice," the left face mused. "Lots of natural light."

"Shut up!" the right face wailed. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."

"Causing indecision," the woman corrected. "Now be gone!"

The left face muttered, "Party pooper," then he raised his silver key, inserted it into the air, and disappeared.

"Do I have to begrudgingly thank a god now?" Percy groaned. Apollo and Artemis had proved they weren't all bad, but he wasn't getting a good feeling from this one.

It wasn't very comforting Thalia didn't answer, but her scowl only grew.

The woman turned toward us, and fear closed around my heart. Her eyes shined with power. Leave these heroes to me. That didn't sound good. For a second, I almost wished we could've taken our chances with Janus. But then the woman smiled.

There had been something in that smile that reminded him of his mother. The kind of smile she'd given Gabe when she promised him meatloaf.

"You must be hungry," she said. "Sit with me and talk."

She waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow. Jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade.

"Who...who are you?" I asked.

"I am Hera." The woman smiled. "Queen of Heaven."

"I didn't know God was married," Magnus rolled his eyes. "No, wait, is she the goddess of nuns?"

"Stop trying to mix religions, it's more of a headache then we're already hearing," Nico groaned.

"Wrong heaven," Percy snorted, knowing full well Magnus had known that, but revenge was sweet.

"She obviously uses that title because she doesn't think much of herself," Alex agreed casually, while the others all twitched uneasily once more. They'd never quite get used to these guys being so flippant about how they addressed the gods, whether they were in the room or not.

I'd seen Hera once before at a Council of the Gods, but I hadn't paid much attention to her. At the time I'd been surrounded by a bunch of other gods who were debating whether or not to kill me.

"The real question is, do you remember if she was one of those to vote yes or no?" Nico asked with all the presumption in his voice of the answer.

Percy had to really think about it for a moment, and then shrugged and gave in, "no, not really. I remember who abstained though, so she fell into a lumpy category."

"She was lumped into a-" Magnus began, but he stopped with his own exasperated sigh as he realized Percy wasn't listening and back to humming a song that sounded suspiciously like something Jesse McCartney would sing.

I didn't remember her looking so normal. Of course, gods are usually twenty feet tall when they're on Olympus, so that makes them look a lot less normal. But now, Hera looked like a regular mom.

"Plus that whole they can change their appearance at whim thing," Will shrugged, he still wasn't over his dad, the homeless god Fred.

She served us sandwiches and poured lemonade.

"Grover, dear," she said, "use your napkin. Don't eat it."

"Excuse her, I live for that multi-purpose life," Alex scoffed.

"Yes, ma'am," Grover said.

"Tyson, you're wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?"

Tyson stifled a belch. "Yes, nice lady."

"Queen Hera," Annabeth said. "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"

Hera smiled. She flicked one finger and Annabeth's hair combed itself. All the dirt and grime disappeared from her face.

"Gods, does she tuck your pockets in too and fuss about your weight?" Will's laugh was indulgent while Thalia looked like she was sucking on a lemon. More grateful by the moment this goddess would never give her faux motherly affection any more than her bio mom had.

"I came to see you, naturally," the goddess said.

Grover and I exchanged nervous looks. Usually when the gods come looking for you, it's not out of the goodness of their hearts. It's because they want something.

"I hope Athena has a little gold star waiting for you somewhere out there," Magnus told him cheerfully. "You do deserve it for moments like this."

"Stating the obvious?" Percy snorted.

"Not saying that out loud," Thalia scoffed.

Still, that didn't keep me from chowing down on turkey-and-Swiss sandwiches and chips and lemonade. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"And, now I'm hungry," Will huffed.

"I can usually tell how long when we've been at this when my butts gone numb," Magnus nodded.

"Food has been mentioned pretty frequently in the last few chapters," Percy agreed as he eyed the door to the rooms.

"We might as well take a snack break before anything to horrible in this Labyrinth does show up," Thalia agreed, and there was no more argument after that as they all took five. Before Hera could announce what she was there for, before the first monster showed up, before they realized how lost they were.

Will and Nico stepped back into the room where they'd set up their card game that indeed had not been disturbed one bit. They sat carefully on the bed, as far apart as normal on that couch, and split a plate of multiple different sandwiches with fruit-loops sprinkled on top, because the power of subliminal messaging had honestly left them craving exactly that.

Nico was clearly eating with reluctance, but he also didn't protest his half of the meal while Will found a way to talk about anything other than the Labyrinth for those moments. He talked about silly songs he wrote sporadically and his favorite color being orange and that time his sister Kayla had set the stables on fire while Nico watched with ever growing fondness for just being around him.

When they settled back down now prepared for the worst, Nico took the extra goofy minute Alex used to stretch and flex around like he was about to embark on the quest himself to share one last smile with Will when he opened the book up again whistling to find his place once more.

Tyson was inhaling one peanut butter sandwich after another, and Grover was loving the lemonade, crunching the Styrofoam cup like an ice-cream cone.

"All you're missing from that meal is bananas," Magnus grinned, he'd just housed five. He'd been taking full advantage of fresh fruit without a bruise on it here.

"I didn't think—" Annabeth faltered. "Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."

Hera smiled indulgently. "Because of that little spat I had with Hercules? Honestly, I got so much bad press because of one disagreement."

"A very large disagreement that caused multiple murders and is the most popular myth for a few reasons," Thalia muttered, not exactly Hera's biggest fan herself. It was a miracle she wasn't in the same boat as Hercules...and this goddess was definitely in her top five contenders of who might take Jason away to do gods knew what with all these years before Oceanus plopped him in here.

"Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked.

Hera waved her hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge, my dear.

"Is that bridge also on fire and broken in several places?" Thalia asked wearily.

"I didn't think to ask," Percy admitted, but he also didn't doubt it. He'd have to hear it from Hercules before he believed it, and even then, he'd still suspect something was up. Those stories were Not Pleasant, and even if they'd gotten lost in translation over time and they'd heard the wrong side of them, somebody had done something to make it all infamous.

His mind flickered to Zoe, and that snack of his tried to make a comeback. His instincts were still to distrust Hera, and Zoe had made him never wish to take Hercules's side without hearing every fact about what really happened, so this felt like a war he hoped to all the gods he'd never be in the middle of.

Besides, he was one of my loving husband's children by another woman. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. But Zeus and I have had some excellent marriage counseling sessions since then. We've aired our feelings and come to an understanding

"I'm kind of wishing in this instance they'd taken the twenty-first-century approach and gotten a divorce though," Will sighed even if he knew that would never happen. Goddess of marriage and all that, gods forbid she ever admit she was wrong and should be in a real long term loving relationship, but man would it save a lot of demigods a lot of grief.

—especially after that last little incident."

"You mean when he sired Thalia?"

"Sired?" Thalia snorted fantastically. "What am I, a horse?"

"Just be grateful you came to mind at all," Percy chuckled, "I'm sure there are other much more famous kids of Zeus I could name instead. Like me!"

"How dare you," she sniffed, pressing her hand against her heart with wide blue eyes.

I guessed, but immediately wished I hadn't. As soon as I said the name of our friend, the half-blood daughter of Zeus, Hera's eyes turned toward me frostily.

"Percy Jackson, isn't it? One of Poseidon's...children." I got the feeling she was thinking of another word besides children.

"Sires," Magnus chuckled.

"Abominations?" Alex snorted.

"Minions," Thalia smirked.

"Disasters," Jason grinned.

Percy considered for a moment before shrugging and not denying any of those.

"As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly."

"Which does show some proof to her claim she doesn't hate all of us on principle," Will happily agreed.

"I'm sure she's still plenty selective about it," Nico said sullenly. He doubted if he'd been up for vote any god would have voted to let him live.

Will heard that in his voice, the reluctance, the edge of fear. He wanted to protest no god would dare vote against Nico after he'd helped save Olympus, but he could hardly argue that now. He stubbornly kept reading with the knowledge that he would.

She turned back to Annabeth with a sunny smile. "At any rate, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl.

"I'm glad she sees that," Magnus said with a hint of relief, here finally was a god none of them were going to start on bad terms for merely existing. "A virgin goddess didn't technically have kids so she has no reason to dislike them."

"Loopholes for the win," but Percy only gave a halfhearted cheer. He had a bad feeling technicalities hadn't made his life easier much longer.

I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have troublemakers like Janus to deal with."

Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why was he here? He was driving me crazy."

"Trying to," Hera agreed.

"Isn't Dionysus the god of the crazy people?" Magnus asked with a quiver of unease. "Does he have a deal with Janus to add to his list?" He clearly hadn't grasped from Jason's ever increasing gasping there was a significant difference at all, they wouldn't be making deals like that about anything.

"Just because he can turn people crazy doesn't mean he's responsible for all of them," but Will didn't sound so sure. Mr. D was supposed to be out here keeping an eye on these minor gods, and it seemed strange it hadn't been him to pop in and intervene...but would he even know this god existed? He knew the myths where his dad accepted the sun from Helios, the existence of other gods wasn't too world shattering in that regards, but not exactly at the same time like this was so casually being shown.

Alex, Magnus, and Jason sat right there though. So plainly Not Greek even before Rachel had confirmed it. A Roman god casually popping up wasn't the wildest thing he'd heard over the past few days.

"You must understand, the minor gods like Janus have always been frustrated by the small parts they play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the rise of my father."

"Your father?" I said. "Oh, right."

I'd forgotten that Kronos was Hera's dad, too, along with being the father to Zeus, Poseidon, and all the eldest Olympians. I guess that made Kronos my grandfather, but that thought was so weird I put it out of my mind.

"And I wish it would stop coming back!" Percy groaned, looking likely to rip his ear off if people didn't quit trying to name every branch of his family tree!

"We must watch the minor gods," Hera said. "Janus. Hecate. Morpheus. They give lip service to Olympus, and yet—"

"That's where Dionysus went," I remembered. "He was checking on the minor gods."

"Indeed." Hera stared at the fading mosaics of the Olympians.

"I will never get over the sheer audacity of you interrupting them," Will admitted.

"And yet here I sit, audaciting away," Percy shrugged. Magnus looked in physical pain that's not how that word worked.

"You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage, you see. I'm used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind."

"What are your goals?" Annabeth asked.

"The perfect question at this time," Jason nodded without surprise.

"It's like she should be leading this quest or something," Percy nodded very seriously in agreement.

She smiled. "To keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course.

"Sounds like, the right answer," Alex said suspiciously, but then, he seemed automatically suspicious of everything.

At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."

"A wish?"

"If you don't say world peace I'm going to have to revoke my friendship card with you," Magnus said. "That's like, The obvious answer!" He pulled out an imaginary card from his pocket and waved it around threateningly.

"Um, I'm pretty sure it has to be a wish she could do?" Percy said with a nervous smile like he thought he was serious. "I don't think the gods can actually do that without taking away free will, or something."

"Hmph, passable," Magnus agreed, stuffing the imaginary card back in his pocket.

"Besides, it would be Annabeth to ask," Alex reminded him in exasperation. "I have high hopes she'll come up with something good." His tone was almost threatening, like Annabeth better live up to those expectations. They weren't sure what would happen if she didn't.

"Before you ask it, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free.

"The day we can't give free advice is the day I lose faith in everything," Will said with an awkward smile.

"I'll make a mental list of how not to start the apocalypse," Nico grinned.

I know you seek Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.

"Well that's, the opposite of encouraging," Magnus frowned.

"I'm sure it wouldn't help if she cheered and promised she wouldn't be any real help," Percy huffed.

But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus's heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."

Magnus blushed neon red as an awkward question came to mind.

Alex had no such reserves as she spat out an imaginary drink and shouted, "Wait, did Hephaestus and Daedalus do it? Or does she mean Daedalus is a child of Hephaestus? Or both?"

"A male god can have a child with a male mortal in the same way as Athena has brain children," Thalia agreed, grateful her answer surprised Magnus enough his gray eyes looked likely to never stop blinking at the implication. Alex was still staring at her for the other part of that question, weirdly as unphased by the answer as he was by everything that went on in here, but gratefully didn't pursue Thalia for more except for a strange smile.

"But how do we get there?" Annabeth asked. "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

Alex and Jason both groaned at Annabeth.

"She did something I'd tell you was to impulsive," Jason huffed. "She could have asked a lot more questions!"

"And she should have been a lot more specific! Like asking for that string thing in her hand!" Alex huffed.

Percy didn't much like them criticizing her when she wasn't here, and he was still far more worried about Janus trying to terrify her than whatever Hera had done to let himself be distracted arguing with them.

"Cut her some slack guys, she's stressed up to her ears and won't always make the most rational decision every moment," Thalia did anyways with plenty of robustness.

Hera looked disappointed.

"Because she should have asked for world peace," Alex muttered under his breath to agree with Magnus, which he at least snickered in surprise over.

"So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."

"Oh come on," all seven of them yelped in surprise at that. In what world had that answer been laid out?! Now this goddess was just messing with them and calling it help!

"I don't understand."

"The means is already within your grasp." She looked at me. "Percy knows the answer."

"I do?" Percy managed to say at the same time as the book.

"He does?" The others all asked dubiously.

"You wouldn't hold out on that kind of information on Annabeth though," Magnus scoffed at once. "Let alone heard it and not, um, mentally, reported it?" Why was it suddenly so weird to describe what they were listening to?

"Glad you don't all think I'm keeping a hidden secret copy up here," Percy said with only a touch of relief as he tapped his temple. He kind of wished someone would call him an idiot again and get to the answer faster. Even Thalia looked dubious though why Hera thought he'd already been given the answer. The only link she could draw was their brief conversation that Rachel could see through the mist last winter, and even then, Percy yet had knowledge that was Ariadne's true ability, so she called bull on Hera's 'help' too.

"But that's not fair," Annabeth said. "You're not telling me what it is!"

"There is nothing stopping her from just, saying it! Make it clear as freaking day down there," Will agreed, looking personally hurt Hera seemed to be going out of her way to make this difficult after she'd just offered endless help.

Nico's touch of jealousy vanished at least. Turns out even if a god had cared enough to try helping him out of there, it probably wouldn't have done him any more good.

Hera shook her head. "Getting something and having the wits to use it...those are two different things. I'm sure your mother Athena would agree."

"Oh great, so the best advice we got out of this is be cryptic, thanks," Jason groaned with his hand pressed against his stomach like he was going to be sick.

He was sick. Of these Greek gods never making any sense. Why would Juno act like she'd done anything of value right now?!

The room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood. "That would be my cue. Zeus grows impatient. Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine.

Alex's mind flashed back to that Triple G Ranch that had been mentioned that apparently supplied scorpions Quintus had seemed so fond of. He didn't really believe in coincidences.

But keep going.

Nico's heart quivered at that possibility. If Percy had never shown up, gods knew what could have happened. Maybe he would have murdered Daedalus, who knew what Geryon would have done to him.

But then, why had Percy shown up there? This seemed like actual useful advice he couldn't imagine them ignoring for any reason.

And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem."

"Is a toothbrush going to come in handy on this quest?" Percy grouched. "Is she saying we should start tossing our extra pair of socks around to get results!"

"Not exactly advice I thought a motherly goddess would give," Magnus agreed with his disdain. He'd hoped a godly symbolic representation of marriage would have been a little more, loving. Aphrodite hadn't fit the right bill either. How was it possible none of these gods seemed more maternal with all the kids and family they had running around?

She pointed toward the two doors and they melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!"

She waved a hand and turned into white smoke.

Percy scowled and fought the urge to kick his chair in frustration. He'd probably kick it through the wall and cause all of his friend's death. That thought was the only thing restraining him, but he still cussed a few choice words he knew Hera would at least want to escape from.

So did the food, just as Tyson chomped down on a sandwich that turned to mist in his mouth.

"Now that was just rude," Alex looked ready to go and personally make him another sandwich just to make up for that.

"I bet you guys are under Detroit or something, can't have anything there unless it's nailed down," Thalia said in something of a mild mannered tone just because she didn't like seeing everybody stressed out and scowling under her care.

Percy gave her a begrudging laugh and a reluctant smile. "At least I didn't come away from this one with another immortal enemy?"

"There's the bright side!" Will agreed cheerfully.

The fountain trickled to a stop. The mosaic walls dimmed and turned grungy and faded again. The room was no longer any place you'd want to have a picnic.

Annabeth stamped her foot. "What sort of help was that? 'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"

"Poof," Tyson agreed sadly, looking at his empty plate.

"Sounds like you made a wish with a genie," Magnus frowned.

"And it was just one wish! You guys need a contract or a lawyer or something next time you run into one of them," Jason agreed.

"Now if she'd offered us three wishes, I bet at least you'd stop complaining," Percy laughed at him.

"I'm withholding judgment," Jason shrugged.

"Well," Grover sighed, "she said Percy knows the answer. That's something."

They all looked at me.

"But I don't," I said. "I don't know what she was talking about."

Annabeth sighed. "All right. Then we'll just keep going."

"Which way?" I asked. I really wanted to ask what Hera had meant about the choice Annabeth needed to make. But then Grove and Tyson both tensed. They stood up together like they'd rehearsed it. "Left," they both said.

Alex looked very torn now if he wanted to go down the right side just to get a peak of what had made Grover and Tyson agree on something. Magnus gripped his hands together, trying not to imagine Alex's hand in his as they ran for their life.

Annabeth frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"Because something is coming from the right," Grover said.

"Something big," Tyson agreed. "In a hurry."

"Left is sounding pretty good," I decided. Together we plunged into the dark corridor.

"Finished," Will said in a sing-song voice like they weren't about to start running for their life. Good for him, he knew they were all alive.

Jason exchanged an uneasy look with Thalia and Percy before he could get up and get the book. There really weren't enough breaks in the world from this to cover how much time they felt like they needed to process before the next awful thing leapt out of the shadows.

#pjo #reading the books #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #alex fierro #Magnus Chase #nico di angelo #percabeth #fierrochase #solangelo #will solace #battle of the labyrinth #HDYSG

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esmexavila · 4 months

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— BASICS

NAME: Esmeralda Avila NICKNAMES: Esme FACECLAIM: Diane Guerrero AGE: August 28, 1989. 34 GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cisfemale. Heterosexual. HOMETOWN: Brunswick, Maine AFFILIATION: Government / Democrat JOB POSITION: Crisis Manager EDUCATION: Bachelor's degree, internship in government. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single for years. CHILDREN: None.

— PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Passionate, loyal, hard working, genuine, patient, kind hearted NEGATIVE TRAITS: Meticulous, self critical, cautious, passive (in social life), noncommittal

— BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: PHYSICAL, EMOTIONAL, MENTAL ABUSE.

Born an only child, Esmeralda was always doted on by her mother as a child. She remembers flower picking, beach trips, late night story telling underneath the covers with flashlights. All her memories, at a young age, were void of one thing. Her father. And all was well for the first five years.

Her father, having left her mother before finding out she was pregnant with Esme, came back into the picture just after her fifth birthday. Esme was confused but she welcomed it. After reading stories of other kids having fathers, she was so excited that she finally had one. But she soon realized that he wasn't like the fathers in the story books. He didn't smile at her and hug her affectionately. He didn't ask her how her day was going or engaged with her in any positive way. Instead, he took, and took, and took.

At first, it was just her cleaning up his plate after he was finished eating. Then, it was making him coffee, cooking him breakfast, getting his shoes for him because he couldn't be asked to get up out of his chair to find them himself. But if she didn't do it correctly, he'd shout at her. He'd throw the plates of food at the wall or on the ground at her feet. He'd tell her how useless she was. He'd demand that she do exactly as he said, over and over again until she was perfect. Then, he used her against her mother. She was eight when she saw him hit her for the first time. Nine when the screams were no longer muffled.

If Esme was good, her father would be calm. If she was good, her mother would be happy, she'd continue telling her stories and taking her on outings. By ten, Esme came to the realization that no matter what she did, neither her mother nor her father were ever happy. And after a while, she wondered if this was how all relationships were like. If how they acted towards one another was really love.

Esmeralda was fifteen before her mother and her fled the only home she ever knew and moved to New York City. While she hated to be torn away from all she knew, Esme wanted her mother to be happy and she'd rather be with her mother than her father.

Life changed drastically, extremely quick. It got calmer, safer. Better. Her mother, while more docile and quiet than before her father came back into the picture, began to smile more. Which, in turn, made Esme happy.

Throughout her schooling, all the way up until college, Esmeralda focused on herself. She, occasionally, would have a boyfriend but it didn't last long. A month, maybe two. That was until she met Hans. She was struck in the heart and had full body tingles the moment she laid eyes on him. A part of her didn't think he'd ever want her, out of all people. But the luck swayed her way, and they were together for two years.

Those two years were the best, and worst, of her life.

Hans taught her to not be afraid of love. He showed her that even through hardships, people could fight for one another. That yes, there were good times -- great times -- but nothing good lasts forever. There had to be bad times. He wasn't like her father. He never raised a hand to her. But there, underneath the skin and all along her heart, there were scars that he'd left behind. So many that she'd lost count.

Esme never wanted to leave the relationship. She loved him so much that it hurt her entire body to even think of leaving him. But he had become something she didn't recognized. Or maybe, he was that all along and she had been to naive to see it?

After the break up, she threw herself into her work and avoided him, and all places he might venture. She became a Crisis Manager, enjoying fixing other people's problems. If she saw him, she knew that she'd be drawn to him again. That she'd cry to him, beg him to take her back. She'd apologize, she'd tell him that she could make it up to him for... whatever she had done. But, rationally, she knew it wasn't healthy. That she should want more for herself.

And most of the time, she does.

Other times... she still wonders what her life would be like if they'd both chosen to stick it out.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

JUST FRIENDS OR ONLY FUCK BUDDIES? - Esme doesn't do relationships. She hasn't in a long time. Mostly because she still isn't over her ex but that's besides the point. This person started out as a friend, and then one night, after many hours of drinking, a mistake was made. Or was it a mistake? The two of them go back and forth on what they should or shouldn't do. Sometimes she gives in to another night, and another, and another... other times, she refuses.

A DEAL OR TWO - This person definitely took advantage of Esme when she was having a low day. They saw her, realized she might need something to help ease her pain, and offered her drugs. It took a bit of convincing, but she conceded. And while she regrets it, she'll still send them a text every now and then asking if they want to "hang out".

CRISIS AVERTED - As a Crisis Manager, it is Esme's job to ensure that the Democratic party appears in the best light possible. Either she's worked behind the scenes to ensure your scandal never surfaced, or she spun a story where your little incident made the front page news instead them of focusing on her clients slight problem. (This could either be a plot for someone in her party and they get along, or one where she makes an enemy out of someone outside her party.)

TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT - Other than her ex, Hans, you are the only one that got close to her closely kept secrets. It could have been genuine, or you could have done it due to an ulterior motive. She may have mentioned something about her father, something incoherent at the time which led you to asking more questions. She was being vulnerable, only to close back up when she realized what she was doing. She's kept you at a distance and shut off from her emotions ever since. (This could be a close friend or a potential fwb type situation since she hasn't had a real relationship in 6+ years.)

will add more later or if you have a potential connection idea, let me know! :)

#{ esmeralda } « biography

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newbie-whovian · 2 years

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[Tenth Doctor/Reader with the reader being pregnant and basically lots of tender care? (oh and absolutely make it gender neutral, women are not the only genders that get pregnant)]

(Absolutely 👌 also I should mention I know basically nothing about pregnancy so some things might be left a lil vague)

Crystal - The Tenth Doctor x Reader

You were relieved to find that once you both discovered you were pregnant, the Doctor kept your adventures safe, strictly deserted planets and galactic sight-seeing. He watched over you like a hawk, even more so than before and barely trying to hide it.

Some days you preferred to lounge around the TARDIS, and he stayed by your side the entire time. Early on, when the idea of pregnancy had still been new and more than a little scary, he'd catered to your every whim, no matter how trivial you felt they were. He'd held back your hair and rubbed your back when morning sickness struck, always quick at hand with medicine for nausea and a glass of water. The mood swings hardly phased him; he knew what it felt like to be flung from one extreme to the other, especially in this regeneration, and he rode through them with you.

At first, you thought you were being a bother, needing this much attention, and when you asked him, he quickly set your mind at ease. You could never be a bother to him, no matter how bad you thought it got.

He almost considered keeping the two of you in the TARDIS until the baby came, but you protested. You enjoyed your adventures with him, and if he could keep you out of danger, you didn't want to give them up.

Today's little adventure was to a planet on the outskirts of an abandoned galaxy, the occupants having left eons ago because of a superstition. There were no warring factions or apex predators, just a planet covered in crystal mountain ranges, pools of warm, iridescent water, and more importantly, breathable air.

You stepped gingerly out of the TARDIS, holding tight onto the Doctor's hand. It had been nearly eight months into the pregnancy, and you were about ready for it to be over. You felt tired, so the Doctor had found this little spot to try and make you feel better.

Soft moss grew beneath your feet, leading to a shallow pond. He gave you a soft smile as you toed off your sandals and treaded carefully into the water, saying, "Nice pick for a day trip, eh?"

You sighed softly, breathing in the perfumed air as you replied, "Oh yes-"

He reached out for one of your hands and you took it, smiling as he placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "Anything for you, angel," he said with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes but your smile widened, and you moved to sit with your feet in the water. He immediately reached to help you down, sitting down next to you.

You held each other's hands as you took in the view, and the Doctor looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the universe. He liked to pretend like he didn't, always looking elsewhere if you caught him. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, with that dreamy look on his face.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, looking out at the water and sending tiny ripples across the surface.

You spoke up, the sound of your voice breaking the silence almost startling you, "I love you."

His smile widened and he leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek; he never got tired of hearing you say that, no matter how many times he did. "I love you so much."

#doctor who #doctor who fic #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader

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pacifymebby · 11 months

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t r o u b l e // chapter eight

A peaky blinders modern AU balletcore story

Chapter List

Sylvie

"Go find your sister eh Fen," said Tommy letting go of me after a moments quiet. Merciful because he must have been able to tell I wasn't going to be able to hold his gaze for much longer. "Gonna talk about this properly eh, like adults."

I hated that; when people said "like adults," because they only ever said it to let you know that they didn't really think of you as an adult. And i knew that was certainly the case here. That tommy would only ever view me and Sunny as the twin girls he'd sent away to boarding school not long after our mother had died. Those two tiny children who had been sweet and naïve and too young to understand anything of the world the rest of oue family lived in.

But we'd long since stopped being those girls and though we might still have been more innocent than the rest of our family, we weren't too young to understand how things worked. We didn't need to talk about things "like adults."

Still, I had done as he'd said, ignoring Isaiah who had tried to catch me when I left the dining room. The fact that he'd been waiting for me left my cheeks burning with humiliation and only spurred my stubborn determination on more.

"Fen lass cmon as if you actually believe I'd need 'forcing' to talk to you... Thats insane..." he tried to walk in step with me, following me all the way to the bedroom I was sharing with Sonya before I turned back to him and stopped him in his tracks.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter Isaiah."

He just smirked, one of those laughing grins splitting crooked on his face so that even in my moment of anger, I couldn't help the way my skin prickled with goosebumps, my eyes unable to do anything but stare.

And he knew, he'd always been able to tell my childish little crush and he'd never exactly been merciful there. Always teasing me. Only merciful enough never to mention it or lead me on. Never merciful enough not to use it, as he was almost certainly using it now, to try and manipulate my temper.

"Come on Syl you're not really pissed at me are you?" he asked, still smiling through my silence. All I could do was fix him with my dark sullen eyes, hope they weren't wavering. Hope he couldn't read my mind. "What?" he asked standing close to me, trapping me between his body and the wall, looking down at me with those teasing warm eyes, "You're really gonna sulk with me and for talkin to you 'bout strawberries?"

He had a way of turning on the charm at the drop of a hat. He could go from gritty, hardened criminal, to soft and flirting without really having to try at all and every time I fell for it. Every time he managed to corner me like this, weak at the knees, looking up at him trying desperately to keep the blush off my cheeks.

"Whatever," I said shrugging him off, slipping inside the bedroom and closing the door in his face. If he was going to do as Tommy had clearly instructed him, follow me around everywhere all the time, I was drawing a firm line here. He wasn't going to sit on the edge of the bed twiddling his thumbs and watching over us while we fucking slept.

When I closed the door behind me Sonya jumped, flinching out of her splits stretch on the floor. She was only in a tshirt and her underwear, a pair of bed socks on her feet a poor substitute for her warm up booties. It was funny the things John had chosen to prioritse for us when packing our things that morning he'd come to pick us up. When I'd been looking for pyjamas the night before I'd found a few tshirts, a ballet leotard and a pair of white tights, but no jeans, no skirt. Just a pair of trackies and that was all so I couldn't imagine that he'd packed any better for Sunny.

"Sorry Sylvie," she said as she pushed herself up off the floor carefully coming out of her splits, shaking each leg one at a time, "I think these are your socks, John kinda just shoved stuff into the one bag for us?" she said pulling a face, "theyre your pants too sorry..." she said wincing as she lifted the hem of her tshirt to show me.

I wasn't sure why we were so surprised in hindsight. Our brothers had always kind of viewed us as a collective, the two of us one and the same.

"Naturally," I smirked kicking the bag with my foot to open it a little more and investigate. And Sunny was right of course. He really had just shoved random items from the flat into our bag, packing a mixture of our things presuming that that would be fine. And I supposed it was going to have to be.

I sat on the edge of my bed then watching her as she spowly bent backwards stretching her arms out behind her. She was really trying to go through her whole warm up on the bedroom floor, without a bar or anything.

"Sorry to cut your practice short but Tommy wants to talk to us..."

"Oh?"

"Like 'adults'..." I said with inverted commas, screwing my face up and rolling my eyes much to my sisters amusement as she reached for a pair of pyjama shorts which she'd abandoned at the end of her bed.

"Oh goodie," she smirked, "a real treat I'm sure..."

And when we left together and Isaiah joined us, following two steps behind like a shadow, Sonya looked at me with questioning eyes and all I could do was shrug.

He followed us, hands in the pockets of his jeans, casually, and every time I glanced back at him over my shoulder he shot me a small smile or shrugged with an apologetic smirk that told me he wasn't really sorry at all.

I had been expecting him to stop outside Tommys study the same way he'd stopped and waited outside the dining room that morning. Id expected him to understand that this was none of his business, that this was Shelby business and that although he might have been a peaky boy, and an honorary member of the extended family, he would be intruding if he crossed that threshold with us.

But if he understood that he didn't seem to care, following us inside the office, shutting the door behind us and crossing the polished hardwood floor to stand leaning up in the frame of a cieling to floor length window which jutted out and overlooked the long driveway and the gardens which stretched to the horizon.

He wasn't alone however and though I didn't recognise the lad Isaiah nodded to, the two of them uttering quiet laconic greetings, I recognised the cap on his head and knew he must be peaky too.

Sunny followed Isaiah with her eyes across the room just as I had done but instead of confusion on her face I saw only a frown when she saw the other lad who was, I had thought, a stranger to both of us.

"You really are letting any old gypsy boy wear a peaky cap these days aren't you brother..." she said, her expression one of disinterest and disapproval.

"For as long as you intend to use your Aunt Pollys name Fen, I suggest you speak a little kinder of your people..."

"Please Tommy, you've spent your whole life trying to shake of your undesirable roots..." she narrowed her eyes at him, her temper unexpected after the lost teary look she'd left this very room with the night before.

The lad in question, the one with dark hair and a tranquil expression, thoughtful eyes which kept his mind unknown, watched the conversation silently. His eyes fixed on Sonya, only once glancing back at Tommy. All the while his smirk was unshakeable, as if he found her cruel words amusing and trivial. Perhaps like me, he knew she was only acting out to spite our brother. Then again perhaps not, only I knew Sunny so well as to know when she was doing that.

"Thought there was a war on Tommy, whyre you letting random gypsies run around the grounds... He isn't a Lee and he isn't one of Uncle Charlies..."

"No," said Tommy finally, cutting her off as he poured a glass of whiskey for himself and raised the bottle as if to offer it to us, his gesture almost offensive because he'd never let us drink before and he knew we wouldn't drink whiskey with him. "Bonnie here, he ain't a Lee and he ain't a strong, he ain't even with Johnny Dogs..." there was a glint of something like boredom or sarcasm in our brothers voice and I knew that it would be enough to shake Sonya and force her straight laced temper back into heel.

"Then what is he?" I reflected his bored tone back at him, "and why the fucks he here when we're supposed to be discussing Shelby business?"

So called "Bonnie" smirked at that, one of those arrogant, impressed smirks of approval I'd seen worn by the likes of John and Isaiah so many times before. One I knew my sister despised.

"Well," he said, his voice alot softer than I'd been expecting, his small smile flickering when he pushed himself away from the window frame, his eyes locking with Sunnys despite the fact he was talking to me, "youre gonna be doin a lot of talkin about me," he said, "an I'm dead nosy me," he said flashing her a grin, Isaiah letting out a stifled laugh beside him. Both my sister and I struggling with our tempers, Sunnys cheeks beginning to blossom pink despite her sullen eyes.

"Sit down girls," said Tommy, "you wanted to talk like adults didn't you Fen," he said to me, nodding to the sofa which ran along the wall framed by bookcases, though I imagined a library like that to be wasted on Tommy, "so sit down eh? Lets talk..."

"They should wait outside," I said arms folded across my chest, "they're not Shelby..."

"Well neither are you these days lass, to be fair..." said Tommy, he wasn't smiling, his lips set in a straight line as he leant back in his chair and drummed his fingers slow and rhythmically on the arm.

"Fuck sake," mumbled Sonya beside me rolling her eyes to the cieling as she walked prim and pissed off to sit down where he had instructed us. I however remained stood.

"Even so," I said, "I want them to wait outside,"

"Fine," shrugged Tommy, his smirk flickering as he shot the two lads a look and gestured vaguely to the door, "dont go far eh lads," he said dismissing them. Bonnie couldn't keep his amusement to himself, his hands in the pockets of his blue adidas jacket, a dimple popping as he laughed. Isaiah just shot me a look, the kind youd shoot a friend or someone you knew very well. I didn't smile back because he wasn't either of those things to me anymore.

The door closed behind them with a little echo and for a moment we all sat there in silence.

Sonya opened her mouth to speak at the same time as I did but it was Tommy who cut us both off.

"Before either of you start complaining again eh let me just remind you that we're in the middle of a fuckin war, your cousins in the hospital, your brothers upstairs fucked up... And I'm the head of this fuckin family yeah? That means I call the fuckin shots... I make the decisions and you obey."

I couldn't keep the smirk off my lips. He scared me, was scaring me then, my body crawling with a familiar discomfort, but it was just the same as getting in trouble at school, finding yourself sitting in a chair in the headmasters office getting your ear chewed off about "rules are rules for a reason." There was something about that kind of awkward telling off which had always made me smile.

"Something funny Fen?" he asked me, his own lips still set in that unreadable, seemingly calm thin line.

"No Tommy," I said quieter than before, my voice a little dull as I looked back at him.

"Good," he said, "cause I don't really find this funny either... What about you eh Fen?" he asked Sonya but she was looking at her hands in her lap, his fingertips brushing over her fingertips in an agitated pattern. She didn't even shake her head and I felt sorry for her because I recognised her fear and I understood it.

If Tommy knew what we thought he knew then we were both in far too deep.

"Right then," he said brightening his tone then, "good, you wanted to talk then lets talk, who's going first? Fen?"

"Since when have you trusted the Golds and why is one of them cuttin about our house acting like he owns the place?" asked Sonya, she was trying to sound disinterested. I wondered if Tommy was buying it.

"Bonnies a good lad Fen, you'll like him when you get to know him..."

"Who says I'll..."

"I've asked Bonnie to look after you lass..." he started, cut off my spiteful laugh.

"If you're holding us hostage here why have you got your little foot soldiers following us around like fuckin spies?" I asked cutting my sister off who had opened her mouth to protest in the same second as me. Tommy smirked at my phrasing but he didn't rise to it.

"To protect you Fen, not spy..."

"If you ask him something he has to tell you the truth," said Sonya not realising her mistake until Tommy had turned his gaze back to hers, seeing in tunnel vision then.

"Funny," he said, a hint of malice flickering in his tone which neither of us missed, our skin bristling so that when I looked down at her arms, her hairs stood on end mirroring mine. "I always thought that was how it worked between us brothers and sisters too but..." he trailed off, his eyes willing hers to meet them though no sooner had she looked up did she feel that burn of them, the spite shocking her. Her gaze returning to her lap full of shame.

"But if I were to ask you Fen, who Freddie Sabini is to you, would you tell me the truth?"

She couldn't look up then, her hands holding onto eachother in her lap. My skin crawling, my heart aching for her because she looked distraught, so silently distraught.

"T..." I started, about to try and defend her when he raised his hand and silenced me with a lazy gesture. I froze then, watching him, watching her, waiting for a response.

"Well?" he asked again, "would you?"

For a second she was quiet, her cheeks glistening with two little tear trails. Her lashes catching the light where her sorrow collected in thick droplets which slid quietly from her long black lashes to the humiliation blossoming on her face.

"Tommy..." I tried again but this time it was Sunny who cut me off. She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes glowing with something like sorrow curdled with resentment.

"He loves me..." she snapped determined and trembling, trying to stifle a sob, only succeeding to hold herself together for the most fleeting of moments. The sob catching up to her and rattling from her throat moments later when Tommy dropped his balanced act.

"He's fucking using you lass! How could you be so fuckin stupid? He's fucking using you to get to us... To the family!"

"No he isn't!" her cheeks were red and so were the rims of her eyes as her tears flowed freely, her body shaking with her anguish as she tried to raise her voice to match his.

"If he isn't why the fucks he with you eh? What other reason could a fuckin Sabini cunt have for gettin so fuckin close to you!" snapped Tommy, his own expression pale, his rage tight in his jaw, his knuckles pale too when he let his hand ball into a fist on the table in front of him.

I couldn't take my eyes off him, I couldn't believe the cruelty in his words, in his unrelenting temper. The spite there when he asked a question with such an obvious answer.

"Because he fucking loves me!" she cried standing up quickly snatching her hand away from mine when I tried to reach out for her. Her sharp retraction shocked me, left me a little uncertain sitting there on my own without her when she fled the room in a flurry of uncontrollable tears.

"See!" he turned to me without pausing for breath, without even waiting for the door to swing shut, "you see what I mean now eh Fen? You say you don't need a fuckin babysitter but neither of you understand how naive you really are? You don't understand the threats? Don't even know how to recognise them when they're starring you in the face? How can you expect me to let you carry on runnin round on your own eh when when I do leave you to it you run straight into the arms of the fuckin enemy... I'm not doin this shit to hurt you Fen, I'm doing it cause I love you... Cause I don't want to see you fuckin murdered by some sleezy fuckin traitor of a boyfriend..." he said his stream of defense/attack wounding me as I thought of poor Sunny. No doubt Isaiah would be trailing her now, just following orders. It was the last thing she would want, the last thing she needed too.

"The truth of the matter is that even when youre staying here at home, you're not safe... Sabinis men know where we live, they'll be watching the house and waiting for me and your brothers to leave and when we do, cause we will have to, when we do they'll make their move yeah... And I need to know that when they make that move, whatever that move is, you and your sister won't be on your own, you'll have someone with you who is quick and strong, who can protect you... I need to know I'll find you alive when I come home yeah?"

"You're a fuckin cold bastard Tommy," I said glancing over my shoulder at the closed office door, "fuckin cruel and cold and you can say whatever you like to justify all this shit... All the shit you've done... But it won't make it go away, won't change a thing..." I said braving holding his gaze, his stern eyes which were dark with a quiet rage.

He hadn't been expecting me to argue back. He'd probably been hoping I'd runaway in tears like Sonya, feeling small and stupid like a little girl. But I wasn't a little girl anymore and I refused to back down or be bullied.

"You keep saying you love us Tommy but at the end of the day this is the first we've seen of you in years, you keep callin us our childhood nickname and telling us you're doing all this cause you care about us, but if you really think about it all you've done so far is drag us away from our home and break your baby sisters fuckin heart... You've lost her the job she's spent her life dreamin of and now you're taking the lad she loves from her too... "

"She isn't gonna lose that job," he said calmly, "And as for Freddie Sabini, he's a fuckin wop Sylvie, he doesnt love her, he's using her... Cmon lass youre not stupid you know it just as well as I do..."

"I know Sunny, Tommy. I know my sister and I know that lads who care about their babys sisters as much as you profess to now, don't usually send them to boarding school half a country away, or forget about them, or sabotage their careers, or..."

"Enough!" he shouted then, raising his voice to a volume and tone that chilled me, silenced me immediately, made me feel younger and smaller than I really was, "thats enough about that fucking job alright I don't want to hear you say another word about that fuckin ballet..."

"I..."

"Enough Sylvia..." he said again his eyes locking with mine, "I told you she isn't going to lose that job, I told you I would sort all that out... I'm talking now alright... Me, your brother, I'm fuckin talking alright..." he said quieter then, much quieter, his tone changing too so that when he took my cheek across the table and brushed his thumb over my pale skin he sounded so much more gentle than he had all morning.

"I'm talkin now so listen to what I have to say now Fen... I love you right, I might not be the most affectionate big brother eh but that don't change a thing. You're the last gift our mum graced this earth with and I love the bones of you both. Might not see you so often but that don't change a thing. Now, when I say I want you to be safe that ain't a lie, I'm not lying when I say I need to know you're safe... I love you, and Arthur and John, Ada and Finn they love you too. We're a fucked up little family but we love one another eh? You love your brothers and sisters too eh Fen?"

I nodded my head, quiet then, humbled by his speech, moved despite my determination not to let him get to me.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I know you do, you're a canny lass an so's our Fen, youre good girls, you love your brothers and sisters, you love your cousin Michael and your Aunt Pol too don't you?"

Again I nodded, biting my lip, remembering how my Aunt had held my face in her hands that morning abd read me like a book. Remembering how comforting, how good it had felt to feel known. To feel held.

"Good, now, they love you too, your Aunt Pol loves you very fuckin much, and if anythin were to happen to you, if I let anything happen to you and your sister, your Aunt Pol would have me fuckin balls, she'd hang me from the rafters herself eh?" he said sparking a little smile from me, I couldn't help the quiet laugh which escaped me because I knew he was telling the truth.

"See," he said, "you know thats true, she'd fuckin hang me... If I didn't do it myself first eh... I'm not tryin to punish you lass, I asked Isaiah to keep an eye on you cause I know you used to be close... I picked Bonnie Gold out for your sister cause I trust him, cause he's canny too, cause I know there ain't a single Italian who could outsmart the lad... And cause I know she's not like you eh, needs someone who ain't gonna scare her..."

"He's a fuckin stranger.."

"Aye but he won't be very long," smirked Tommy, his eyes so much warmer now than they had been. "I know you hate me now Fen... Know you think I all but abandoned you down south and left you to fend for yourself but the truth is I've missed my baby sisters every day since they went away, Ive only ever been trying to do the best thing for you... Cause you never had a mum an dad that could..."

And by the time he'd finished I didn't know what to say to him, I just knew I couldn't argue with him anymore. Knew there would be no reasoning with him, no way of reaching a compromise. Tommy wanted to keep us safe and as far as here was concerned this was the safest place for us.

The only thing that really left me unsettled was the fact that he'd lost his temper with Sonya, he'd brought up her secret and thrown it in her face. He'd said nothing to me of mine. I couldn't understand that. In truth it scared me. Made me wonder why he was holding onto a secret like that, what exactly it was he was waiting for before he inevitably used it against me.

For now it had to be enough, everything he'd said to me. For now it had to be enough to know that despite having not seen him for years, i knew my big brother. I knew that everything he'd just said about the family, about loving us both and trying to do the best for us in the absence of our dearly missed mother, was all true. For now that had to be enough to hold onto.

Next Chapter

#Trouble #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders x oc #Peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders modern au

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themarginalthinker · 10 months

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The door at the back of the garage banged as it closed. It echoed across the large, mostly-empty back lot, dotted here and there with cars ranging from the newer to junkers and all in between.

The figure in the doorway stood for a moment. The very edge of the sky was streaked with deep purples of a sunset just past. Golden-edged, but fast fading as stars overhead twinkled to life. The tall light poles edging the lot had flickered on, casting beams down directly under them. The figure managed to stand just out of the way of them, though they reflected brilliantly off the black shell of the motorcycle helmet firmly covering every inch of their head.

They stand, for a moment in the doorway of the darkened, closed garage. Looking up, to the plum and gilded sky of another day passed on. Little brown bats wheel overhead, catching insects in the warm summer air.

With a little huff, they stop looking, and adjust the bag slung over their shoulder, making sure its secure. Gravel crunches under their heavy, well-worn boots as they make their way to a much-secluded corner of the lot, where under a tarp, a motor bike of a past decade or several, waits.

It's loud in the ease of the evening as it rips onto the road. The trip might not be a long one, but it could be enjoyed nonetheless.

"Is there a reason we're doing this so early? Some of us would prefer not to have to rush about like a chicken without a head first thing in the night."

The question comes from a short, sturdy woman wearing a light blouse and clean but patched overalls. Her hair is light blonde and very curly, kept back with a simple tie, though already whisps are escaping its hold to hang about her round face in irritating fly-aways. She's sitting at one end of a small, fold-out table, tennis-shoed foot tapping on the shiny floor of the wide, low-ceiling gymnasium. Her two tablemates weren't in much better shape.

To her left was another woman who looked like she just crawled out of the woods not far away from the school's fence line. Long nails held enough dirt to fill a garden, hair choppy and left hanging down just past thin, hunched shoulders barely covered by a single layer of thin tee-shirt. Her washed jeans ended in edges white with age and frayed threads, and the color of the flipflops covering her feet (dirtier than her hands with even longer, sharper nails) could no longer be discerned. She too was glancing every other second towards the double doors of the room, fidgeting with a little silver ring on the table top.

At the 'head' of the gathered sat a man just past his prime and showing it in the creases of his once-dark and sun warmed face. He's dressed in a plain, white button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark pants clean and belted. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his deep brown eyes gazed calmly over the collection of others, hands clasped together over a small stack of papers politely.

"Because the district only allows the use of school property outside of school functions until eight, and I know for a fact most of us don't manage to get up before six in the summer, Denise" he answers prefunctly.

The overalled woman flexes her jaw and looks about ready to argue the legitimacy of the supposed necessity of the time more, when the sound of a motor rings near. The three look up, and a few moments after the sound cuts off, very near the doors at the back of the gym, they open and in comes the helmeted person.

The neatly-dressed man smiles, bright and friendly, sitting taller in the chair.

"Sammy! We were beginning to worry."

"That Martin wouldn't start without you here, and wouldn't let us go 'till he'd gotten ahold of you..." mumbles the twitchy woman.

The man shoots a her a look, that isn't received, and the motorist simply sets down the shoulder bag on the table. Gloves are slipped from hands, revealing planes of scored-and-healed flesh, knuckles looking like they were set to rip through the thin, scarred skin that seemed more tears than flesh. Fingertips and palms like poorly tanned leather, and just as hard, pull out a laptop and a smart phone, which they promptly tap on and open a recording app.

They shrug at Martin, the head man, and sit, opening the laptop.

"If there is no method to the madness, it's just madness, and God knows we don't need that in this town, Frankie," Martin says to the fidgeting woman, smile a little tight now. "In fact, I like all of us here so we know how to keep that from happening the best we can."

"Maybe a little madness would liven the place up," Denise comments offhandedly.

For a moment, Martin's eyes flashed under the florescent lights of the gym. Warm, dark brown turned inky, and cold. For a moment, none moved.

The expression is gone before it could be commented on.

"Anyway," Martin says, gathering his papers together and tapping them into order as if they hadn't been arranged perfectly before. "I'm now calling this month's Elysium to order. All members of the court will rise and state their presence to the residing Prince."

Already, the long, blemished fingers are tapping away at the keys of the computer, dutifully making record.

"I thought we voted last year we weren't gonna do this anymore this year," Frankie hummed. "Not like it's needed."

"It's tradition - and I am Prince, I could order it to happen," Martin shoots back, and then sighs. "C'mon people, it is what it is. We got some stuff I'd really like to cover tonight, so let's meet in the middle, huh?"

Denise growls, an almost pretty sound, high and trilling, as she stands.

"Clan Toreador asks recognition," she says, irritated.

Martin nods to her. "You are recognized."

She sits down with a huff, arms crossed. He turns to the other woman, who stands.

"Clan Gangrel asks recognition," she says, fingers drumming on the tabletop, nails making a tight staccato beat.

Martin tilts his head for her too. "You are recognized."

Frankie sits, and the three look to their third, silent member, keeping words for them all.

The helmet looks down, to the fresh page of writing, and then up, to Martin. They stand, long, long body hunching inwards and moving seemingly so as not to make the layers of clothing move too much against the ruined skin under it.

"Clan Nosferatu...asks...recognition."

The voice seeps from under the helmet like chipping old paint from the side of a house; brittle and cracking, taking more breaths than most would need for a four word sentence.

All three others are reflected in the visor of the helmet, and their leader sees himself nod.

"You are recognized."

Sammy sits.

"Alright people, so, first to business, I just wanna get this out of the way, we all know the Fourth of July is coming up in a couple of weeks, so Frankie, I need to know where you're people are nominally gonna be when the fire department does its fireworks show so we don't have any frenzies like we did last year-"

"And I said last year, that fledgeling wasn't one of mine or anyone in the area, they wandered in from-"

So the words continue, so the night draws on.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #lullabies of a midnight train #midnight train #for short #drabble #unedited and off the cuff #clan ventrue #clan toreador #clan gangrel #clan nosferatu #nothing happens it's just an excuse to write a little of what a usual night is for these characters

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metalheadcowboy · 2 years

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"You didn't say there were going to be this many people here," Billy hissed, looking out into the Byers' living room where sat The Party, Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy. Cassie rubbed up against his legs, sensing his sudden stress, scratchy "Service Dog" vest making a terrible noise as it glid along the seam of his jeans, much looser than he ever would have worn before.

Steve turned his head, perplexed as he looked over at his clearly nervous boyfriend, "No more than usual."

Billy didn't go out a lot, or at all, really after Starcourt. Hated the way that people looked at him with pity or treated him like he couldn't do anything by himself, so he just didn't leave the house. But when Steve came up to him all excited about spending Christmas Eve at the Byers' he couldn't say no. Though he didn't know what it was going to be the Byers' plus about eight more.

"Right," the blonde sighed, taking a tighter grip on his golden retriever's leash, definitely feeling all eyes on him as he tried not to focus on all the newfound attention.

"C'mon," Steve spoke, taking a tight, comforting grip on Billy's hand, giving him a bright smile before leading him to the couch. It made the younger boy feel a bit better.

They got a few greetings along the way, Steve giving Jonathan a smack on the shoulder in greeting, Nancy welcoming him with a wide grin, Joyce opening up her arms to him for a hug. Billy's greeting on the other hand wasn't so warm. None of them had seen him since what happened on July 4th, so he didn't exactly blame them, but it still didn't feel great.

"Snow's a real bitch today," Steve huffed, shedding his thick winter coat, moving to hang it on the coat rack by the door while Billy made a home for himself on the old couch. He sat in the corner, adjacent to where Hopper was sitting on the other end. Cassie sat at his feet panting away happily, mouth opened in a way that almost made it look like she was smiling, it made Billy himself smile a bit.

"No kidding," Nancy huffed, settling back into Jonathan's side by the fire,"It'll be a miracle if we-"

"Dog," El interrupted rather loudly, just before Steve plopped himself on the couch next to Billy, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. Billy gave a shy smile while everyone around gave a humor filled laugh. Cassie payed no mind, focus fully trained onto Billy.

It wasn't until El went to pet her and Dustin practically dove to stop her that Cassie stood to attention, ready to block a potentially stressful situation from interfering with her handler. her head swung from Billy to Dustin and El back and forth as it played out.

"You can't touch her, El!"

"But-"

"What the hell Dustin!" Mike screamed, clearly ready to fight his best friend to stand up for his girl friend.

"Don't yell at him!" Max argued, clearly taking his side.

It was overwhelming for Billy to say the least. Slowly, he brought his hands together letting his left pick at the already damaged, scabbed skin of his right knuckles. Steve was too distracted by everything to notice, but Cassie noticed immediately, nudging her nose harshly against his hands to separate them. And when that didn't work, she licked Steve's hand until he grabbed one of Billy's, keeping the other one busy with her own golden fur.

"Enough!" Joyce finally yelled, clapping her hands together. Having raised two boys and once being married to Lonnie, if there was anyone who could break up a good fight it was her. She practically pried Max off of Mike, seemingly just seconds from clawing his eyes out and stood between El and Dustin's argument.

Steve looked over at Billy who was still anxiously bouncing his knee. He frowned, leaning in close to his ear, "'M really sorry, Bill." he whispered, stomach churning when the blonde turned to him with the fakest smile he'd ever seen.

"It's fine," Billy spoke which only made Steve more upset because, clearly, it wasn't 'fine'.

He couldn't help but think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

#Post starcourt Billy with a service dog I say!#Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Harringrove #The Party #Joyce Byers #later Cassie Lays across his chest and refuses to move because she's the best girl #self destructive behavior tw

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helloalycia · 3 years

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The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda."

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine

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fallenfurther · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Anticipation

Chapter 5 - Jeff comes back home and Alan is unsure of how he feels

Chapters 1 , 2 , 3 and 4.

I really enjoyed exploring how Alan would feel about Jeff being back as he would have missed a big chunk of his life. I hope you enjoy the snippets in this.

*******

Sally enjoyed the moment as she signed her son out of the rehabilitation centre. It was only for the weekend, but it was his first weekend home and she was going to make the most of it. Everyone was eager. John was heading down as they spoke, EOS being left in charge of Thunderbird Five, though John was sure to check in with her now and again. Jeff had progressed so well over the past few months and had surpassed all the doctors’ expectations that they were talking about his treatment becoming outpatient based in a few months. The idea of Jeff being back where he belonged, in the house he'd built, was a dream come true. Every mother wanted their son close, but after having him so far away, Sally was finding it hard not being near him. Turning to her son, the grin on her face widened. Jeff Tracy stood tall in his favourite flamingo shirt and jeans.

"Let's go home," Sally spoke, as she slipped her arm around Jeff's and grabbed the crutch that had been leaning against the wall. He may think he can walk around the facility without one, but the island villa was much bigger and had very few places to rest along the way. The black chauffeured car waited for them and took them to the private airport where Sally had landed Tracy One.

*****

Alan sat, swinging his legs from the gangway above the cavern where they kept the civilian aircraft, if you could call two private jets and a couple of old planes civilian. One of the 'old planes' was the bi-plane which Grandma had flown around the world in, once upon a time, with Grandad as company. When he was younger, Grandma would tell him her travel stories at bedtime, though he always preferred Dad's space adventures. It was the plane she had taught Dad to fly in so many years ago. It no longer flew, its engine long rusted together and although both Virgil and Brains had offered to mend, replace or upgrade it, she'd always refused. It now sat beneath a dust sheet. He'd once gone searching for her when his brothers had all been busy and found her crying in it. He'd been a teenager and just backed out slowly, not wanting to disturb her. At least he now understood why she kept it.

He lay his hands along the bar and rested his chin on them, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the cavern. At some point Tracy One would return, and Dad would be back amongst them, even if it was only for a short time. Alan didn't know how to feel. He was getting on with Dad at the facility and when they chatted online, but would it be the same on the island? The atmosphere was already changing, buzzing with excitement, but Alan was more observant than they give him credit for. He'd seen Scott tidy up Dad's desk and carry his things back to his own study. He'd also seen the same brother sitting with a whiskey late at night with that look on his face. Something was troubling Scott, and that worried Alan. Scott had been Alan's rock for the past eight years, the one he went to for advice. The family dynamic was changing again. Alan wanted to believe it would be a good thing, that things would be better than they were before. He'd wanted Dad back so much, just like his brothers, but maybe that was only because he was forgetting. He'd forgotten things and it had scared him. Now it was the idea of having Dad back that scared him.

Alan glanced down at his dangling feet, not bothered in the slightest by the drop beneath. This was his spot, where he had sat waiting for Scott to come home from business meetings and Gordon from WASP training. When Scott hadn't been the one to fly Kayo and himself home from boarding school, his oldest brother would wait a little further down the gangway. Scott would be leaning against the top rail and smiling down at him as he exited the plane. Alan had hated being away, and after Gordon's WASP accident he'd managed to convince Scott to let him be home-schooled. Alan didn't know if Gordon had told Dad about that yet. He was only meant to have passed basic training but the hydrofoil project he had been part of was almost complete, so Gordon had decided to spend a few extra months at WASP to see it to the end. The crash had almost ended Gordon's life, and Alan had been called home from school. He and Gordon had always been close and Alan had wanted to be by his side as he recovered. Scott had finally relented.

Alan sighed, resting his cheek against the cool metal. The metallic clang of footsteps bouncing along the gangway announced Gordon's arrival. Alan smiled at his brother, who slipped his feet over the railing Alan had his face against, shaking it slightly as he planted his bottom on it. Alan leant back so he could look up at Gordon.

"Ready for Dad to return?"

The grin on Gordon's face matched the excitement that leaked from his brother. Yet Alan could see the nervous twitching in his cheek, that gave away what he was really feeling.

"Of course, are you?"

Gordon turned from him with a slight air of sheepishness.

" ’course I am."

Gordon sighed, his gaze turned down toward the ground below them. His demeanour shifted. His shoulders slumped like they were weighed down by extra gravity.

"Penelope's going to get here any minute, and she wants to tell Dad about us."

"Oh, but that's a good thing though. It means she really likes you."

"I know, it's just. You wouldn't understand. Dad's always, I guess, I feel like Dad's always expected less of me."

Alan didn't understand. He struggled to remember how his own relationship with Dad went, let alone how it was for Gordon. Both brothers stared down at the floor in silence. So many words left unsaid between them, yet neither one was ready to be completely honest. The sounds of a familiar motor vehicle had Gordon up and down the gangway in a shot. FAB 1 pulled into its spot and Gordon was at its side, waiting for Parker to release Lady Penelope. It was Sherbet that darted out first, jumping against Gordon's legs. Gordon's laughter echoed as he scooped up the pug before pulling Lady Penelope in for a kiss. Alan wanted to make a yuck face but held back, knowing how long Gordon had liked Lady Penelope. Alan had teased Gordon enough about it over the years that he knew retaliation would come. From his perch, he watched Parker’s back stiffen at the sight of the kiss, the chauffeur still not convinced by the pairing. The three of them moved away from the car, towards the wall, Parker’s arms full with Penelope’s luggage. Voices drifted up from below but Alan wasn’t paying them much attention, his mind mulling over Gordon’s words. Gordon had never admitted being nervous before, and for it to be about Dad too. Gordon had grown up just as much as he had over the last eight years, so maybe he too was unrecognizable from the teenager Dad had left behind. They had been catching up with Dad in their own way, so Alan had no idea what his brother’s current relationship with their father was like. Was it strained?

Footsteps echoed along the gangway and Alan turned to see the rest of his brothers approaching. With their appearance Alan knew Grandma and Dad were close. Alan pulled his legs up and stood, one hand on the rail.

“You alright there, sprout?” Scott asked, his hand falling on Alan’s left shoulder with a squeeze.

“Yeah, just waiting.”

Alan smiled, trying to hide the butterflies that were dancing inside him. Scott's hand was reassuring, its warmth a reminder of the many times Scott had comforted him over the years. The low rumble of jet engines echoed through the cavern and they all turned. Scott threw his arm over Alan’s shoulder and guided him down the stairs with his brothers. As they reached the bottom, the arm fell and his brothers seemed to bound ahead towards Tracy One’s bay. Even the usually calm and collected John had a skip in his step, and Alan hadn’t seen Scott this excited in years. One of Alan’s earliest memories was of the day Scott had left for the Air Force. Alan had cried in his Grandma’s arms, not wanting his big brother to go, but Scott had been so excited that day. Gordon had said losing Mum had been tough on everyone, but particularly Scott, who’d stepped up when their Dad was consumed with grief. There had been a bounce in Scott’s step in the lead up to leaving. Grandma had rocked Alan, telling him Scott had to go, that he was an adult and that’s what adults did. Alan had just wanted his big brother to stay. Grandma had recounted that Alan had slept in Scott’s bed the next few nights. Alan had cleared memories of his brother after his first flight in Thunderbird One. The young man had the biggest grin on his face and had ruffled Alan’s hair while chuckling, muttering about going faster. That sat alongside the memories of Thunderbird Three being constructed. Dad had made an exception and taken him down to the hanger to see it. Alan had been in awe of the robotic arms and platforms that surrounded the half-built rocket. Leaning against the cavern wall were the large bright red panels waiting to enclose the rocket. Wide eyed, Alan had started hopping eagerly, which resulted in a hearty chuckle from his father. Apparently Scott had been the same with Thunderbird One. Thanks to Scott, Alan could still remember the weight of his father’s hand as he knelt down and looked him in the eye to tell him that it would be years until he would be able to go into space in Thunderbird Three. That Alan would have to go to college and pass all the space requirements before Dad would train him to fly the rocket.

Except Dad never did. Scott and John had shown him the controls and taken him on his first trip to space. Alan suspected they were unaware of Dad’s rules when they started to train him, not that Alan was going to tell them. He’d spent years watching his brothers flying out onto rescues and he wanted to pull his weight. Simulations and early space training meant he was able to start flying the red rocket at age fifteen under supervision. No need for a college degree. He took the title of youngest member of International Rescue from Gordon. Dad had mentioned his schooling to him a few times since being back, and the option of college, but Alan had always changed the subject. He’d had to admit to Dad that he’d passed his high school diploma to get him off his back, but he still hadn’t told his brothers, though he was sure they must know. John, at least, always knew everything. With the return of Dad the topic of his lessons just hadn’t come up and that was the way Alan wanted it to stay.

The plane entered the cavern as Scott and Virgil started manoeuvring the steps towards the bay. The stairs were completely autonomous with sensors that not only guided them into the correct place without human aid, but would also move back to their docking station automatically when requested to. It was just quicker to push them. Gordon, Parker and Penelope joined them as the plane continued to slow as it rolled into the bay. No one flinched as it inched closer, all trusting the veteran pilot who had done this many times. Once it had stopped, she waved down at them with a massive smile on her face. His eldest three brothers got the ramp into place, John guiding them from behind. When International Rescue first started, and their identities were still rather secret, the media had wondered how the team could work so efficiently as a team, though once it was revealed to be a family business, it made perfect sense. The brothers knew each other so well, understanding each other's strengths and weaknesses and how best to communicate. Alan remembered how it had been when he was first being integrated into the team. Now it was instinctual.

The media had talked so much about the new rescue organisation, and when he was at boarding school it was often the only way he got news about it. His brothers would only open up about International Rescue when he was home. It felt like scraps at the time. It was a secret he had kept, knowing that Scott and John were monitoring everything. He knew he would be in trouble if he told, and that it would put his family at risk. They had become more open with the media in recent years, still keeping their secrets, though now Dad was back the media’s focus was entirely on him and his return. Interviews had been demanded. The media would camp outside anywhere they thought Jeff was, hoping to grab a glimpse of him or to get just one word from the great astronaut. All asking the same questions. What would happen now? Will you take control of Tracy Industries? Will you lead International Rescue? Those questions had yet to be answered, because as a family, they hadn’t broached the subject.

The door of the plane opened and Grandma exited with her arm looped through Dad’s. They started to descend slowly, Grandma obviously moving at Dad’s pace. His free hand gripped the rail. It still shocked Alan just how frail his Dad seemed. It was a very different image to the powerful man he remembered. Once at the bottom of the stairs, his father pulled John and Virgil into a hug. Wiping away the tears that had come to his eyes, his father glanced around the cavern.

“How I’ve longed to return.”

“Well, keep up with your recovery and it’ll be permanent in a few months.”

Grandma smiled at her son, handing him the crutch that had been hooked in her elbow.

“Let’s get you upstairs, onto a sofa and we’ll get you a cold drink. I’ve already got your room sorted, all your clothes have been washed and are back in your wardrobe.”

“Thank you, Mum.”

Scott was the next one to be caught in a hug, then Gordon and finally Alan. It was a tight one-armed squeeze that had pressed Alan’s face into his father’s chest. Alan hugged back carefully, not wanting to squeeze him too hard. His Dad still felt so fragile. A few inhales brought a familiar strong scent that filled Alan’s mind with memories of Kansas and hugs goodbye. It was the same aftershave Dad had been wearing the last time he said goodbye, in front of his boarding school. Alan was released and Jeff stepped up to Penelope and Parker, the crutch thudding with each step.

“Good to see you well, Lady Penelope. I’ve heard you become an asset to International Rescue.”

Dad shook her offered hand, before raising it to his lips and giving it a quick kiss. Alan was a little taken back by the action but Penelope waved it away.

“No need for such formal formalities, Mr Tracy.”

“If you want no formalities, then call me Jeff. Not that your father ever did.”

Penelope smiled politely and nodded in response. Dad’s eyes fell on her chauffeur.

“Parker, you old dog. Good to see you’re still looking after young Penelope here.”

“I wouldn’t have it h’any other way, Mr Tracy, sir.”

The handshake between the two men was short but ended with an odd hug with a pat on the back. It struck Alan that he’d seen it before but had completely forgotten the way Dad would greet his friends. Another thing he could add to the things he’d forgotten.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #homecoming #alan tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #sally tracy #grandma tracy #gordon tracy #feelings #emotions #uncertainty #angst #anticipation

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