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bro-atz · 4 months

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1024UB CHAPTER FOUR: I JUST WANT TO KNOW!

word count: 2.4k

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“Are you sure Yeosang can’t make it?” Seonghwa asked Yeosang’s roommate for the umpteenth time.

“I begged him, but he said he was up all night coding, so he wanted to fix his sleep schedule,” Wooyoung frowned.

San, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa were going out for dinner that night. Out of the whole group, they were the only three that had nothing going on that night, so they made plans for dinner.

“Can we go for karaoke after?” Wooyoung asked.

“No,” both Seonghwa and San said at the same time.

“Please?”

Their answers did not change. Wooyoung kept begging until they got to the restaurant, and San had to hold his hand over the boy’s mouth as Seonghwa told the front of house about his reservation. They walked through the restaurant to get to their table, and San couldn’t help but start sweating. The restaurant seemed extremely expensive with Greek sculptures and architecture surrounding them, and everything was bathed in white and various shades of blue. San’s eyes met Wooyoung’s, and he realized that the two of them shared the same emotion at that moment.

As they sat down at the table, the two stared at Seonghwa with wide eyes. San was the only one able to choke words out.

“Hwa, what the hell is this place? Do you really think we can afford anything here?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been here before. We can afford it,” Seonghwa reassured them.

“With who?” Wooyoung asked, but his question went ignored.

Their waiter arrived with the menus, San immediately opening it to check the prices. He let out a deep sigh of relief— every entree was under twenty bucks. Wooyoung also sighed in relief.

The three put in their orders. Seonghwa surprised San as he ordered alcohol along with his meal. “You’re drinking? And of all things, vodka?”

“It’s a specialty on the menu,” Seonghwa shrugged. “I wanted to try it.”

“But you usually don’t like to drink,” Wooyoung noted.

“Eh, I’ve been wanting to build my tolerance lately. Those drinking games kill me.”

Soon after, the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizers. Wooyoung stuffed his face as Seonghwa and San carried out a conversation that really didn’t concern Wooyoung.

“What did you end up doing about the last paper?” San asked.

“Oh, well Gyuri and I chose similar topics since we’re in different classes for that subject, and we used the same evidence for the most part. It made the whole paper so much easier. What about you?”

“I wanted to take it easy, but my professor asked me to choose a different topic so I could focus on the more creative reference material than the factual ones.”

“That sounds tedious…”

“You’re telling me. I’ve been staring at poetry for the past week.”

“Do any of you want the last one?” Wooyoung asked, his words muffled due to the partially chewed food in his mouth.

“All yours.”

San nodded in agreement. Wooyoung smiled with his mouth closed before taking the last part of the appetizer. The waiter then returned with their entrees, and Wooyoung finally was able to partake in the conversation since he was no longer stuffing his face hungrily, just normally now.

“I miss Yeosang…” he said.

“You live with him,” San pointed out.

“Okay, then when was the last time you saw Yunho?”

“Uh… ROD party?”

“See? You don’t see your roommate that often either.”

“Well I haven’t been home all that much lately,” San immediately bit his tongue— he was about to say because he’d been spending a lot more time with Gyuri, but he really didn’t need anyone suspecting his relationship with her.

“Why?” Seonghwa asked.

Fuck. San had to think fast.

“I’ve been living at the library.” Yeah, that should throw them off.

“I get that… It’s so depressing,” Seonghwa sighed. “I don’t see Joong all that much either because I’m working with the professor I TA for, and Joong’s always in the studio.”

“Okay, I have a question: would you rather be stuck in the studio, or the lab?” Wooyoung asked.

“Studio.”

“Lab.”

Seonghwa and San looked at each other in surprise.

“Why would you want to be in the lab? You hate science,” Seonghwa pointed out.

Goddamn, why did he say that? He wanted to be in the lab with Iseul, but he couldn’t say that out loud either. How much alcohol was in that drink he ordered for him to be slipping up so bad?

“The studio is so quiet when you’re not working. It’s unsettling,” San said, hoping that was a satisfactory answer.

“Isn’t the library also quiet?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t like the library.”

“Fair.”

A wave of relief rushed through San’s body. He really needed to watch what he said for the rest of the night, so he decided to finish the drink he had and not drink more after. San prayed that no one else would ask him another question until he could return to full sobriety; thankfully, no one did.

“There’s this guy in my lab who I know for a fact had a crush on me until I blew something up, and now no one in my lab takes me seriously,” Wooyoung sighed. “I just will not find someone until after we graduate.”

“Don’t you have Yeosang?”

“I don’t know, ask him,” Wooyoung responded sullenly.

San and Seonghwa looked at each other awkwardly before Seonghwa diverted the topic by saying, “You should date outside your major, Woo.”

“What, like a biology major?”

“Way to think outside the box but press right up against it,” San snorted.

“I don’t think I have it in me to date anyone who’s not in STEM, except for you, Sannie,” Wooyoung wiggled his shoulders towards San.

Wooyoung giggled like a schoolgirl as San wrapped his arm around his waist and said, “I don’t think you could handle me, Wooyoung.”

“Please, we are in a restaurant. Do this out on the street,” Seonghwa sighed.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t get my love. Come, I’ll show you.”

Seonghwa leaned away from Wooyoung, who had puckered his lips. San laughed at the scene before him until Wooyoung finally gave up and leaned back in his seat with a pout. Seonghwa then ended up continuing the conversation.

“Well, if Iseul weren’t in the group, I would have recommended you go for her.”

San couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety and also a little jealousy. He was the one who wanted to end up with Iseul, so why was it that everyone else was seen as more compatible suitors over him?

“Nah, I love Iseul, but not like that. Also, isn’t she into Yunho?”

San really wanted to hold onto his heart.

“Gyuri said that they’re just lab partners and nothing else, but even she’s not completely sure because he does spend more time with her than Gyuri does,” Seonghwa responded.

“Oh, speaking of Gyuri, is it just me or has she been shining lately?” Wooyoung, thankfully, turned the topic away from Iseul.

“Shining?” San asked now that his intense anxiety subsided.

“Yeah, like,” Wooyoung used his hands for effect. “Sparkling.”

“You’re crazy,” San laughed.

“No, I get it. She has been a lot cheerier these days. Whatever she’s doing seems to be working for her,” Seonghwa agreed with Wooyoung.

“More like whoever she’s doing,” Wooyoung took a sip of whatever he was drinking.

San and Seonghwa both just stared at Wooyoung as he made an obnoxious slurping noise. San had to say something, otherwise he would definitely be making the situation worse for Gyuri, but he didn’t know what to say to convince Wooyoung that she was not sleeping with anyone without sounding overly suspicious.

“Do you really think she’s sleeping with someone?”

San looked at Seonghwa in surprise— not only did he speak before him, but he also questioned the premise of her sleeping with someone so incredulously. San guessed that as her best friend, Seonghwa was able to make these comments without anyone really suspecting anything of him, so in a way, it was good that Seonghwa spoke before he could.

“Yeah, I mean, why else would she be sparkling like that? That only really happens to people, specifically women, when they’re getting that good shit every night,” Wooyoung reasoned.

This made San kind of proud of himself. He had to suppress the smile creeping onto his face by retorting, “What do you know about women, Woo?”

“I read about it online, so I figured it could apply here.”

“‘Online’,” San mocked, his fingers air quoting the boy.

“Shut up.”

The two other boys laughed right in Wooyoung’s face. In fact, they laughed so hard that tears were streaming down their faces and other customers were staring at them. Wooyoung’s nostrils flared as he looked at the two in disappointment until they calmed down.

“You definitely are not meant to be a biology major, Woo,” San wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re crazy. She’s probably just less stressed now considering that she only has two classes that are really important,” Seonghwa added.

“Whatever, I’m still sticking with my theory,” Wooyoung pouted and shrugged.

The boys paid their bill and exited the restaurant, but instead of heading back to 1024UB, Wooyoung walked in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Karaoke! Let’s go!”

“I have a presentation tomorrow, I can’t kill my voice,” Seonghwa tried his best to get out of these spontaneous plans.

“Yeah, and I just don’t want to sing,” San added unhelpfully.

“You guys publicly humiliated me just now! You owe me!” Wooyoung refused. “We are singing!”

“So now you have to publicly humiliate us?!”

“Yes!”

Seonghwa and San tried to head back, but Wooyoung grabbed them by the collar and dragged them to the karaoke bar. San was majorly impressed with Wooyoung’s sudden strength especially because he had noodle arms. Ultimately, San found himself sitting in one of those karaoke sofas listening to Wooyoung sing his heart out into a microphone. At least Wooyoung was good at singing.

The one thing that actually worked to San’s advantage being at karaoke was the absurd amount of alcohol they provided with the price of one room for two hours. Wooyoung pretty much held his own private concert for San and Seonghwa as San essentially poured alcohol down Seonghwa’s throat. He really didn’t need to feed him that much alcohol since he was a lightweight, but he needed to make sure that he drank a lot at once so that his interrogation of the older boy would be successful. San’s interrogation started as Seonghwa’s hiccups started.

“Hey, but what if Gyu is sleeping with someone?” San asked slyly.

“She better not be,” Seonghwa slurred out.

“Why do you say that?”

“I won’t allow it! I will protect her from the gross men out there!”

“Why are you talking like she’s your daughter?”

“She’s not! She’s my best friend, and she’s still mine.”

San was grinning from ear to ear— he really wished he was recording the entire interaction, but his phone had no storage left, so he had to just be content with the fact that he was getting all the information out of a very much drunk Seonghwa. As a wise woman once said, drunks and children tell the truth. He texted Gyuri to meet him at his place, that he’d be home within the next thirty minutes. Gyuri said okay in response.

“How is she yours?” San pressed Seonghwa further.

“She… she’s precious to me… I don’t want anyone hurting her…” Seonghwa was starting to nod off.

“Who would hurt her?”

“Mmm…”

“If you don’t want anyone hurting her, then why don’t you keep her to yourself?”

“I can’t…”

“Why not?”

“Because… I can’t…”

“Because she’s your best friend?”

“Mmm, no… Because… One… Else…”

That’s all Seonghwa could get out before he passed out, his head hitting San’s chest. Miraculously, Wooyoung had finished his concert, and they were able to leave. Both Wooyoung and San carried the drunk boy home, Seonghwa continuing to just bury his face into various parts of San’s body.

“Mmm… Smell… Good…” Seonghwa’s nose was pressed firmly into the crook of San’s neck, San’s face getting redder as he felt Seonghwa’s exhales hit his ear.

When they got back to 1024UB, San entrusted Wooyoung with taking Seonghwa home as he quickly made his way back to his apartment. He entered to see that Gyuri was laying down on the couch while playing a game on her phone. She turned off her phone and sat up as San walked to the living room and flopped down on the arm chair.

“Long night?” she asked.

“Yes…” in that moment, it occurred to San that some of the information he gathered that night may not really encourage Gyuri to pursue her crush, especially considering that the way the conversation got to her in the first place was because Wooyoung speculated that she was having good sex with someone (who just so happened to be him).

“Why’d you call me over?”

“Oh, so Seonghwa got really drunk and kept talking about you—”

“Really? What’d he say?” Gyuri sat up and listened intently.

“…He said that you’re precious to him and that he didn’t want anyone hurting you,” San told her; technically it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

San could see Gyuri’s mood immediately deflate as she leaned back into the sofa and sighed deeply multiple times.

“If I’m precious to him, then can’t he just make me his?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” San also sighed.

Gyuri got up and started walking away, but San grabbed her wrist before she could get too far. He sat her down next to him in the arm chair and held her hand, trying to reassure her. “Hey, it’ll work out, don’t worry.”

Another deep sigh left Gyuri’s body. San gave her a light hug, but he didn’t let go until she hugged him back. He knew that if he got this kind of information from Gyuri about Iseul that he would just want a hug, so that’s what he did. They moved away from each other, Gyuri’s face looking a little less stressed now.

“Thanks,” Gyuri patted his hand.

The two of them made prolonged eye contact, and San could see the frustration in her eyes. He pulled her onto his lap and gave her a light kiss on the forehead, his arms wrapping around her once again. She hugged him back once more and leaned into his chest, a deep sigh escaping her body. San could only imagine how annoyed she was at her fucked situation with Seonghwa and just continued to hug her until she didn’t feel so bad.

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hannibal and cult girl make an executive decision about their family and their future.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: threats of violence

"What do you think, pumpkin?" You whispered to your bump, hoping that the jaunty music coming from your 3DS would make your one-sided conversion harder to hear. "Which starter should I choose?"

You put your hand on your belly. "Should I choose Treeko?"

A strong, enthusiastic kick followed.

"Wow! Treeko it is, then." You laughed, selecting the lizard Pokémon. "With kicks that strong, you're gonna grow up to be an MMA fighter."

Hannibal entered the room, trying to soothe his temper but failing. He was tasked with cleaning up the mess on the porch, and his sinuses were singed.

"My hero!" You cooed, trying to make him feel better about having to deal with what you dubbed the Bitch Petroleum Oil Spill.

"If she comes back on our property, she's dinner." Hannibal paced back and forth across the room, seething with rage. You didn't know if it was the threat against your life or the h-bomb of concentrated essential oils that got him so steamed. Probably both.

"Hannibal-" You said in a soothing voice.

"-if she runs into you at the grocery store, she's dinner. If I smell a whiff of that hideous Marc Jacobs concoction she bathes in, she's dinner."

"I don't think anything is going to happen, Hanni." You said, more for your sake than for his. If there was even a possibility that you or your baby were in danger, he'd do everything in his power to keep you safe. And he had quite a bit of power.

Hannibal released a tense breath and sat down on the bed. "How do you know?"

You shut your 3DS and put it to the side. "I just do."

"With logical reasoning like that, you'd make quite a lawyer, Mrs. Lecter." Hannibal teased, in that stiff, half-amused way he did when he was partially done working through tension.

"If it were Theresa, I'd be worried." You rationalized. "Theresa is an executor. Anna is a follower. She doesn't have the individual drive to actually, y'know, hurt someone."

"You did end her career and her marriage, not to mention her prospects of winning an obscene amount of money, in one ten-minute conversation." He recounted. "That is some serious motive. I wouldn't put much past her."

"Please." You rolled your eyes. "All she's gonna do is beg Liam to let her in, take a bath and drink an entire bottle of chardonnay while watching Riverdale."

Hannibal took off his shoes and lied down next to you. He propped his head up on his arm and fixed his gaze on you.

"What?" You laughed.

"You're so delectably round." He commented, licking his lips.

"Hey!" You protested. "You can't make those jokes when you actually eat people, y'know?"

"Is that so?" He smirked, propping himself up over you on his elbows. He lowered his face down to your ear. "Am I scaring you?"

"No." You giggled. "But you might be scaring her!"

"Her?" He repeated.

"The baby, who else?"

His face turned from playfully mischievous to genuine wonder and awe. He stroked your hair and looked into your eyes.

"What?" You laughed. "Are you mad that I assumed the baby's pronouns? Cause I will read her Gender Trouble when the time is right-"

"You want to be a mother." He said, his voice in an optimistic upturn.

Your face turned hot. "I've been... considering it."

"You do." Hannibal corrected. "I hear you talking to her, teaching her all about Pokémon. Telling her all the things you want to do when she arrives."

You looked down at your belly and narrowed your eyes. "You snitch. I told you not to tell anyone."

Hannibal chuckled, his hand lifting your shirt to reveal your large belly. "You would be the most incredible mother."

"Not to harsh the buzz or anything," You said, breaking eye contact. "But it's not like I have a very strong foundation to build off of."

"That just means we have to build our own foundation." He said, his buzz not harshed in the slightest. "One based on love, education, compassion."

"Hannibal..." you sighed. "What happens when I go back to school?"

"You'll study. Hard, of course." He said as if it were that simple. "You'll focus on your career and I will be the primary caregiver until you've established yourself."

"You said it yourself, though." You shrugged. "Parenting isn't supposed to be some blissful retirement plan. It's stressful."

"I've come to the realization that if I want this child I need to do everything in my power to minimize the burden on you." Hannibal said. "My career is secured. Yours is just getting started. I couldn't live with myself if I denied you that."

"I mean..." your voice trailed off. "We killed two couples and turned them into tex-mex together. Is there anything we can't do?"

"That's my girl." He said, running his fingers through your hair.

"Of course, now we have a lot of planning to do." You tried not to sound too excited. "We need to buy a stroller, a carseat, a changing table-"

"Pick a name." Hannibal finished.

Your mouth hung open. "Oh, shit, you're right!"

"You haven't thought of it at all?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head. "Once you name it, you start getting attached to it. I guess I wanted to avoid that."

"So you're telling me you don't have a singular notion of what you'd want to name our little girl?" He pressed.

You caved. "Something not basic."

Hannibal was a professional at keeping his emotions under wraps: and that included body language and vocal intonation. You learned to pick up on his reactions through the most minute of tells. For example, the tiny exhale out of his nose and the slight tightening of his lips roughly translated to "oh thank god".

"Something that would be befitting for the title of countess." Hannibal said, taking the opportunity to remind you of his royal lineage.

"Will she be privy to the title if she's born out of wedlock?" You joked.

"She will be. Because I say so." Hannibal's curled upper lip turned into a self-confident smile. "And so will you, my countess."

"Well, in that case," You said, staring dreamily off into space. "I've always liked the quiet majesty of Gaelic and Celtic names."

His eyes lit up. "Deidre, Isolde, Saoirse, Rowena?"

"Boudicca." You offered. "Countess Boudicca Lecter."

"The warrior queen." He placed his hand over your belly. "Just like her mother."

"Or what about Cordelia?" You posed. "It's elegant, but simple."

"Imogen?" Hannibal said, as if he were asking the baby for her opinion.

Another sharp kick followed. He would never get used to feeling her kick. It made him melt every time.

He lowered himself to bring his lips to your belly. "You like the name Imogen?"

"Imogen Lecter." You said. "I like the sound of that."

Hannibal kissed your bump and then looked up at you. "Now then, my love. You are to teach me everything you know about Pokémon."

Your eyes widened. You never thought anyone would ever ask that. "...I'd love to, but, why?"

Hannibal returned to your side and pulled you into his arms. "How am I supposed to keep up with you and sweet Imogen if I don't know how the game works?"

You laughed. "You really want to know?"

"It makes you happy." He nodded, holding you a little closer. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"

A smile spread across your face. "It's a turn-based roleplaying game. You catch and train magical creatures and the end goal is to assemble a diverse team that covers as many areas as possible."

"That sounds, admittedly, quite fun." He said, reaching for your 3DS. "Show me?"

You spent the rest of the evening together in a cuddle pile, walking him through how the game worked. For an evening, you forgot about your sore breasts, your aching back and your sadistic cousin. You just enjoyed being with Hannibal and with Imogen in the dim glow of a decade-old 3DS.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal #hannibal x pregnant reader #pregnant reader #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #domestic fluff #cult girl #cult girl 2 #cult girl doctorate

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Captain Fray: The Trash Superman

Look up in the sky! Is it a bird? A plane? No, it’s... an ugly, homeless bald man cackling evily while raining trash on the city with an army of sludge monsters, shortly before getting beaten up by a group of meddling kids. It’s just dumb old Captain Fray again getting foiled by Monica’s Gang, nevermind him. He does that every Tuesday.

Monica’s Gang are arguably the most iconic of all Brazilian comic book characters, having maintained popularity for 60 years and with unmatched worldwide recognition. They’ve had cartoons, a cinematic universe of films both cartoon and live-action, plays, a long-running manga spin-off that turned them into teenagers, crossovers everywhere ranging from The Big Two’s superheroes to Osamu Tezuka’s properties (as Monica’s creator Mauricio and Tezuka were acquaintances), at least one theme park, and much, much more. Even past Brazil’s borders, where they are a cultural institution on a scale matched only by Disney, these are some of the world’s most popular characters, starring in just about any kind of adventure imaginable and then some.

However, if you go into the world of Monica’s Gang, and look for a flying man with a chest logo, a cape and impossible superpowers, you’ll instead find their greatest arch-enemy: Captain Fray (actual name Capitão Feio, which translates to Captain Ugly), real name Feioso Araújo. Who will be happy to remind you time and time again of what a rotten, no-good scoundrel he is, even if he has to pick a fight with the Big Blue himself to prove it.

So let’s talk about perhaps the most iconic “caped superhero” of Brazilian comic books, even if he’s ultimately a long, long shot from being one.

Despite the long, worldwide spanning history of the superhero, the idea of the superhero as a cape-wearing uniformed superpowered do-gooder has remained a largely American concept, as different regions have their own unique icons. The titular 4 members of Monica’s Gang have on many occasions taken the role of superheroes, and they’ve built up a massive Rogues Gallery over decades, despite not looking like the usual idea of a superhero. Monica, Jimmy Five, Smudge and Maggy, for the most part, look and act like kids, with odd quirks.

To briefly describe the 4: Monica is the pudgy, bucktoothed ruler of the group as well as the neighborhood, being super strong and more than willing to hit people who mock her with her stuffed rabbit “Samson”. Jimmy Five has a speech impediment, and he constantly schemes to take Monica’s role as leader, best described at times as a junior Lex Luthor to Monica’s Superman. Maggy is Monica’s friend with an uncontrollable appetite, and the witty and perpetually dirty Smudge is Jimmy Five’s friend and accomplice in schemes. Smudge is defined by his complete and total refusal to take a bath or even come into contact with water under any circumstances, and some stories play up Smudge’s dirtyness to the point of superpower.

It’s Smudge in particular who’s gonna be relevant to this post, because the first time Captain Fray was introduced, he was introduced as Smudge’s good-natured and humorous uncle, a comic book addict surrounded by piles of dusty comics, particularly those of Smudge’s favorite superhero, Captain Pitoco, a sort of Superman/Buzz Lightyear analogue. Eventually, Smudge’s uncle is surrounded by dust, and out of it, he transforms “back” into a former alter-ego, Captain Fray, a megalomaniac supervillain horrified at just how clean the world is, and who decides to sully it as much as possible, flying around the city spreading dirt rays and even transforming the population into pollution-fanatics. Eventually he’s defeated and transformed back into normal, only thinking he had a weird dream.

Upon subsequent appearences, Fray would acquire things like sludge minions, underground lairs and ever increasing powers (like in the above sequence where he somehow destroys a rainbow and darkens the sky with a single gesture), although he would eventually gain a Kryptonite-esque weakness to water. Captain Fray would go on to become the most reocurring villain of Monica’s Gang for the next 40 years, as the former concept of him being Smudge’s uncle was dropped and he became instead the ruler of an underground race of sludge monsters created by him, who’d occasionally come on to the surface in order to engage in supervillain plots to take over the world and spread dirt and pollution everywhere, sometimes in stories with an environmental angle, and often when the story calls for superhero antics.

Fray’s got a very standard Grinch/Captain Hook cartoon villain personality, all cackles and snarls and shaking fists at the meddling kids who ruin his plans everytime, proud of being evil and rotten, but never too rotten to the point he betrays the kid-friendly nature of the stories he’s in, nor too rotten that he can’t do something nice for a change like allow his monsters to celebrate Christmas even if it ruins his bad guy image, or begrudingly do a nice thing for Smudge.

Although for the most part, the “mainline” comics have dropped the angle of Fray being Smudge’s uncle, the two having a particular dynamic has stayed consistent still. Sometimes, Smudge is portrayed as the only member of the Gang who’s got little to no problem with Fray, even welcoming the change of scenery he brings, although he will stick with his friends, as often he’s the only one who’s got no problem being hit by Fray’s dirt rays. While sometimes Fray singles out destroying Smudge so his claim as the dirtiest being in the universe can never be challenged, he is more often depicted as having a soft spot for Smudge, sometimes considering him a pupil or potential successor to inherit his powers, and plenty of times, Smudge has done just that, although inevitably it never sticks, partially because Fray gets jealous or misses his former life, and partially because Smudge gets bored of supervillainy and just wants to go play with his friends again.

The dynamic between Smudge and Fray has led to a lot of adventures between the two, and it’s something that’s been played up in the aforementioned manga spin-off, Monica Adventures. In it, the cast’s all been aged up to teenagers, and the adventures they get into respectively have taken much more of a shonen manga edge, much darker and weirder than anything the original kid comics could get away with, although not necessarily to it’s benefit, because I could not begin to describe just how much grimdark nonsense is in those, let’s just call it the Monica’s Gang equivalent of Jorge Joestar in terms of lunacy and leave it at that (although, to be clear, even the original “mainline” comics could get very, very weird themselves). Captain Fray has been a mainstay of said manga from the start, going through a series of redesigns, including one where he turns into a bootleg Sephiroth, and one where he tries rebranding himself into a suit-wearing gangster named “Black Dust”, which nobody really takes seriously.

It’s also granted Fray a backstory: As a kid, when he’d gone to the basement to read comics, his house was buried in a landslide. Afraid of death, he was met with a milipede claiming to serve “The Serpent” (the in-universe stand in for the devil, maybe, just bear with me here), claiming it would protec him so long as it returned the favor someday. He was afterwards transferred to an orphanage, teased by kids over his lack of hygiene and liking for superheroes and nicknamed “Captain Ugly” (again, his name, Fray is just the English translation), with rumors that his touch granted disease. After the orphanage closes, he’s adopted by a nurse and gains a step-brother in Smudge’s dad.

Years down the line, and Feioso’s managed to acquire a house and make a decent living. He spends a lot of time with his nephew Smudge, teaching him how to build toys out of garbage (a habit of Smudge in the strips) and fly kites and so on. Until one day, in an update of his original story, he’s cleaning his house packed with dusty comics, and a shelf falls atop of him. The millipede from his childhood appears to recollect the debt:

"Your mission is to pollude the Earth...rot it's soil...change it's atmosphere...darken the skies with smoke...so that the sun's rays may never again hit the surface of this planet!

"No! No, please! I-I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"You think you can refuse? You think you have a choice? Do you think you can escape your destiny? Evil does not tolerate weak servants. If you don't fill your end of the bargain, if you don't pay your debt...it will be transferred to the person you love most."

"Smudge? NO!! H-How do you know about my nephew?"

"We know of all that happens. Our eyes...are everywhere."

"Smudge has nothing to do with this. Leave him alone, please...I-I'll do anything you guys want!"

"So be it...Filthy powers will corrode your soul...This is the day of your rebirth! How would you like to be rebaptized?

"The nickname I was given at the orphanage...it's perfect! Captain Ugly strikes again!"

How “canon” the events of Monica Adventures are is a question best left unspoken, since it ultimately doesn’t change anything about the original strips. But regardless of what made Fray who he is, he would spend the following decades in many, many attempts to complete his mission and defeat Monica’s Gang, to be foiled and stopped time and time again by his nephew and his friends, little more than a dumb, cartoon villain there to be smacked again and again, too dumb to quit and too mean to stop. So he was, and so he will always be.

But something interesting’s happened recently with him. As part of the Graphic MSP initiative that’s allowed creators to reinvent the many, many characters of Monica’s Gang for stand-alone graphic novels, Captain Fray’s received one in the form of Capitão Feio: Identidade, which isn’t so much an origin story as it tells the story of a homeless man with no knowledge of his past or where he acquired the superpowers that force him to be on the constant run from society, and it tells the story of how said man eventually became the infamous supervillain, despite his many attempts to be a superhero.

The comic and it’s sequel, Tormenta, acted more of a proof of concept to test whether or not a serious reimagining of Captain Fray can work, and considering their reception and the newfound love that the Captain seems to have attained in recent years, I’d say they succedeed pretty damn well. He’s ostracized for his appearence, poverty, smell and bad manners, and there’s hardly anything he can do about it because his powers make him a toxic abomination by default. He spends portions of the book trying to create living beings with his powers, and once he succeeds in creating a Godzilla-esque monster to protect him from the authorities, he ends up having to put the monster down, before getting fed up with constant rejection and promptly announcing that, if he’s just gonna be known as an ugly monster by the people, even after he saves them, he’s gonna make it a point to be Captain Ugly Monster, the most rotten supervillain they’ve ever seen.

The comic constantly grants upon Frey iconography of several of the biggest icons of comic books, from Batman and Superman to AKIRA, playing up not just Frey’s association with comic books but also the fact that he's been mired in that aesthetic from day one. He wanted to be a hero, he wanted to be like Captain Pitoco, and regardless of continuity, all that he ends up as is becoming a gross caricature of a superhero. And still, Frey owns it. He owns his grossness, his rage, his bitterness at everything that he understands to be the opposite of himself, everything clean and good and decent, and he tries time and time again to tear it down, even if he ultimately can never get far enough to accomplish his goals, or lose all of his humanity in the process.

I’ve remarked once that, to many in some regions of South America, the “traditional” superhero does not hold much appeal, and most of the more popular protagonists and icons tend to be outlaws far away from caped antics. Which is why it’s particularly interesting that, not only is the most famous caped superman of Brazilian comic books a villain, but also that, perhaps unintentionally, Fray has undergone the kind of development that most reocurring cartoon villains never get, and one that seems almost poised to last. In a current zeitgest of villain protagonists, it’s successes and failures, I could very easily see Captain Fray becoming the star of a popular film or series, one that takes a look not just at his personality and role, but also at Brazilian culture’s relationship with superheroes and supervillains. Maybe Fray as an anti-hero, trying to make the best of the horrendous powers he’s burdened with, could work.

So long as it’s not revealed that he likes dirt because his mom got pushed off a cliff by cleaning products, I could see it working very well.

#character profiles #comic books #captain fray #capitão feio #turma da monica #mauricio de souza #brazilian superheroes #brazilian supervillains #superman #monica's gang

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captain-josslett · 3 years

Text

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Five

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 4.1k+

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Injury

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Has the surgery been a success?

Man, sorry for the delay. Life has been hectic here and thankfully my Dad is okay. Despite having a mini heart attack and not being happy about the new meal plan and exercise he is doing 😅 I'm already 2k in on part 36... so hopefully won't be too long

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

Lena holds her breath, along with everyone else in the room, as they watch Emma open her mouth.

‘Please work, please work, please work, please work, please, please, please.’ Lena wishes over and over, trying not to squeeze Emma’s hand too tight with her nerves.

But nothing happens.

Only the sound of her breath emits from Emma’s throat.

At this realisation, Lena’s stomach drops. She immediately schools her expression and tries to keep the devastation off her face as pained hazel green eyes snap to hers.

“Okay.” Doctor Sloan’s voice is calm despite the growing tension in the room. He pours some water into a cup and holds it out for Emma to take. “Have some water and try again.”

Lena observes the slight shake in Emma’s hand as she reaches out and takes the cup, lifting it to her lips. Wincing as the cool liquid slides down her swollen throat.

Taking another deep breath Emma slowly opens her mouth again and tries to make any sound.

Nothing comes out.

Doctor Sloan begins talking, his voice is soft and reassuring but all Lena can hear is the blood pumping around her ears and she lowers her head.

‘This is your fault.’ Her mind whispers cruelly to her. ‘If you hadn’t left her that day, if you had been there this wouldn’t have happened, if you had been enough-’

A scrape of a chair makes Lena’s head snap back up. Seeing Eliza jump up quickly and hold a clearly distraught Emma in her arms.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Eliza whispers into Emma’s ear as her daughter nuzzles her face into the crook of her Mom’s neck. Her mouth opens in silent sobs, her breath coming out in pained gasps.

Lena peers behind her, Alex, Kara, Lucy and Sam have disappeared from the room. Nia has her head in her hands and Lena can see tears falling to the floor, Brainy and Winn are already looking over their tablets, conversing on the next steps they could do to help. J’onn sadly meets her eyes and goes to sit in the chair Eliza just vacated.

“I don’t care!” Alex’s enraged voice yells from the open door leading into the corridor, making Lena let go of Emma’s hand and stride out of the room towards the other voices of her friends. Promptly closing the door as she steps through it, not wanting it to further stress Emma.

She pauses at the scene in front of her. Alex’s face red with fury, the doctor against the wall with Alex’s arm pressed against his neck. Sam and Kara have their hands on her shoulders to stop her, while Lucy just watches with her arms crossed tightly against her chest and Doctor Hamilton stares at the scene with her mouth open like a goldfish.

“Look, I know you’re upset, I get that.” Doctor Sloan says calmly, trying to soothe the furious redhead. “We knew this surgery might not succeed but others still might, possibly, work. This is a foundation for us to work on, to use different therapies, injections in her neck. There are other options we can use.”

“Alex.” Kara pleads softly, tears brimming her eyes.

“It didn’t work.” Alex gasps out as she shakes with adrenaline.

“Not this time.” The Doctor says with genuine sorrow in his eyes. “But I promise you, I am going to do everything in my power so that one day your sister can talk.”

“And sing.” Lucy narrows her eyes at him.

Doctor Sloan pauses and takes a deep intake of breath. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?!” Alex barks, her rage reigniting.

“Babe, that’s enough.” Sam pulls her girlfriend off the Doctor and holds her in an embrace.

“It didn’t work. It didn’t work.” Alex’s muffled voice can be heard weeping out.

Tears prick Lena’s eyes and she clenches her jaw. Slowly she builds up an expressionless mask to hide the devastation she is feeling. A wall to keep her pain in.

She watches as Doctor Sloan turns to leave with Doctor Hamilton and Lena strides after them. Stepping into the CEO, scientist role and out of her girlfriend status.

“Doctor Sloan.” She calls after him, passing her desolate friends on the way.

“Ms Luthor.” He nods at her apprehensively.

“I would like to discuss with you the equipment you used.” Lena motions for him to lead the way to Doctor Hamilton's office to continue their discussion.

Lucy watches her leave with the Doctors and debates about whether she should follow or not.

Deciding against it she turns back to Sam, Alex and Kara. The blonde superhero was now hugging Alex as the two sisters tried to console each other.

Sam and Lucy’s eyes meet and Lucy nods before turning back to go into the room. They will get through this. They have too.

-- -- --

Two Days After The Surgery

Emma is lying on her side in her bed. The room is in partial darkness with the windows being slightly tinted. Not allowing the sunlight to enter all day and distorting the colour of the sunset that she is ignoring.

Her throat feels tight and itchy from the surgery and all Emma really wants to do is sleep to escape the memories of the past few days. To escape to dreams filled with beaches, quiet places and safety.

Not the memories of seeing the devastation written on everyone’s faces. The absolute agony that exploded within her at the realisation that the surgery hadn’t worked.

The way her Mom was the only one who comforted her right away. That Lena had let go of her hand and disappeared, along with her sisters. When all Emma needed and wanted in that moment was to be in her arms. To have Lena’s soothing voice reassure her things will be okay. For her sisters to be sitting on the bed with her and comforting her.

She hears a light knock on the bedroom door but doesn’t move, just keeps staring ahead.

“Love?” Lena’s voice softly calls into the dark room after she pushes open the door. Emma hears the soft patter of Lena’s footsteps on the carpet until Emma feels the bed dips behind her. “Hey.” Lena coos out and wraps an arm around Emma’s waist. “Are you okay?”

‘No.’ Emma thinks but instead she reaches for her girlfriend’s hand and squeezes it three times.

“I love you too, but you didn’t answer my question.”

Emma doesn’t respond, just stares straight ahead at nothing. Her eyes fill, for what feels the millionth time, with tears.

“Em.” Lena’s voice cracks and Emma feels Lena roll her onto her other side. Darkness surrounds Emma as Lena holds her close but Emma doesn’t move.

“Lee?” Kara’s voice quietly calls from the bedroom door and Emma hears two sets of footprints pad over to the bed. “Hi little one.” Kara says softly but Emma keeps her head nuzzled in Lena’s chest.

“Has she been in bed all day?” Alex’s voice queries Lena.

“I- yes, I think so. I did try to get her up earlier but she just lays here.”

Emma hears Alex sigh heavily and feels Alex get on the bed behind her. “Hey peanut.” A hand touches Emma’s shoulder and she unintentionally flinches under her sister’s hand. “Sorry.” Alex’s hand falters for a moment but gently lowers until it's fully resting on her shoulder again. Emma slowly breathes out and forces the tears to not fall.

“Everyone’s here for a Superfriends night. We will do whatever you want.” Kara's voice sounds airy and light but frustration bubbles within Emma. All she wants to do is lay in bed and sleep and not have to perform. To pretend she is okay.

Emma lets out a heavy breath through her nose, to try and release the bubbling frustration she is feeling.

“You don’t have to love. You can stay in here and rest. No one is expecting anything from you.” Lena says softly in Emma’s ear and kisses the top of her head.

Emma nods but stretches against Lena. Signalling she is about to get up.

Seeing this Alex moves off the bed and Emma rolls over and tries to sit up. The room spins, making her flop back into Lena.

The raven haired beauty chuckles, thinking it's due to Emma’s stiff body that she’s fallen back.

“I’ll help you up.” Alex reaches down and takes a hold of Emma’s hands. “On the count of three. One, two, threeee!”

Emma lets Alex help sit her up, also feeling Lena placing her hands on her back in case she falls again. When Alex moves away Emma carefully moves her legs off the bed, squinting her eyes as Lena turns the lights on.

“You are cleared to eat soft foods, so Nia and Brainy made us macaroni and cheese.” Kara says while heading into the walk-in wardrobe to grab Emma some fresh clothes. “I mean, it was Brainy’s idea which was really sweet.” Kara places the clothes by Emma and gives her a small smile.

Emma curves her lips up in response and nods. Wincing at the movement and runs a tired hand through her hair.

“We’ll see you out there.” Alex grabs a hold of Kara’s hand and they leave the room.

“Do you need help changing?” Lena asks beside her, having shuffled across the bed to sit next to her girlfriend.

Emma shakes her head and removes her t-shirt, exposing her naked chest. Making Lena groan.

“I can’t believe we have to wait over a month for me to ravish you.” Lena moans softly and kisses Emma’s cheek. “Good job we fucked in the bath huh?” Lena kisses Emma’s lips and the blonde kisses back. Smirking as Lena runs a hand gently over her chest.

The couple had been prepared that they couldn’t have sex for a while after the surgery. But when Doctor Sloan admitted the time frame to being a month and a half, Lena wanted to punch the Doctor.

Emma turns and raises an eyebrow at her. “I can still please you.”

“I know love. But I want to please you as well.” Lena slowly leans in and tenderly kisses Emma’s lips. “Plus, we do have to be careful.”

Emma lets out a heavy breath as she sighs and nods. Grabbing her clothes she quickly changes into loose jeans and a navy t-shirt with a sloth surfing a wave, while Lena waits on the bed.

“How do you make a simple outfit look so sexy?” Lena smirks at Emma, her eyes bright and glistening.

Emma gives her a small smile in response, which causes Lena’s to drop slightly.

“Hey, come here.” Lena opens her arms and Emma momentarily hesitates before falling into them. “I know this is less than ideal but we will get through this.”

Emma snuggles her head into Lena’s neck and breathes deeply. Allowing the feelings of safety and love to replace the anxiety she was feeling.

“Hey love birds!” Lucy shouts from the living area. “If you don’t come now all the food is gonna be consumed by two and a half cranky Kryptonians!”

“Hey!” Ruby squawks from the other room as Kara and Sam join in.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m not cranky!!”

“Point proven babe.” Alex laughs and the sound of a light slap follows. “Ow! Hey Emma, help me!”

Pulling away from Lena, Emma quickly gets up and rushes into the living area. Alex is rubbing her arm and rolling her bottom lip forward as Sam shakes her head and chuckles.

“Emma!” Ruby yells and rushes over to the blonde.

“Ruby! Care-”

The teenager collides heavily with Emma, making her dispel a lot of air as she wraps her arms around her.

“-ful.” Sam finishes and rolls her eyes at her daughter. “Seriously that kid.”

Emma hugs Ruby back and smiles at them. When the teen breaks away Emma quickly moves to Alex’s side and wraps her arms protectively around her sister.

“She slapped me.” Alex whines and snuggles closer into Emma.

“Aww baby! I barely touched you.” Sam rubs Alex’s shoulder and sweetly kisses her cheek. Emma kisses Alex’s other cheek and shoots Sam a dirty look, making the brunette laugh. “I promise I won’t hurt her Em.”

Emma quickly nods and Alex nuzzles her nose into the side of Emma’s face.

“So food now?” Kara smiles brightly and lifts the lid on the simmering pan. “Rao, this smells so good!”

“Ooo yummy!” Ruby agrees as she takes in a big sniff of the delicious food.

“Thank you Kara, Ruby.” Brainy nods his head and picks up the spoon to dish the macaroni out.

“Yay!” Kara super speeds into a seat at the extended dining table with Ruby following right behind her. J’onn and Kara have flown in another fold up table and chairs so everyone could sit around a table together and eat.

Emma lets out a heavy snort through her nose as she watches her sister and the teenager.

“May they never change.” Alex laughs and moves to get everyone's drinks.

“Emma! Come sit next to me!” Ruby pats the vacant chair next to her. Emma grins slightly and goes to run over to them. Suddenly the room shifts and morphs around her.

‘Fuck no!’ Emma’s eyes go wide and she tries to avoid crashing into the table. Instead she trips on a chair leg, sending it flying and causing herself to slide across the floor, hitting her head on the back of the sofa.

“EMMA?!” A chorus of voices cry out her name and many rush over to her.

‘Ow.’ Emma moans, quickly sitting up with a cheerful smile on her face to show she was okay. But a blush colours her cheeks, showing her embarrassment.

“Stay down!” Alex orders furiously, her worry giving away to anger and Emma freezes as her sister kneels in front of her. “I need to check your wound.” She snaps and reaches out to pull the plaster away.

“Alex, wait!” Lena shouts urgently while kneeling next to her. She gently takes Emma’s hand and helps her sit fully up against the back of the sofa. “Deep breaths for me okay?”

Catching on to what Lena is trying to do, Alex’s face softens. “I’ll be gentle.”

Emma nods and focuses her eyes on Lena’s as Alex slowly pulls the band-aid off.

“Wow, this is actually healing really well.” Alex mutters and gently presses certain parts of Emma’s neck for any tears in the stiches, causing Emma to tighten her grip on Lena’s hand. Trying to keep herself grounded in the present.

“So, I was thinking-” Lena begins talking, seeing how Emma’s eyes were starting to glaze over and wanting to stop Emma’s nosedive into an episode. “Maybe we should take that trip soon?” Relief fills her as Emma’s eyes are able to focus on her and her eyes start to brighten with interest. “Go somewhere like the Maldives to unwind, swim in the sea, snorkel and you know-” Lena coughs lightly and lowers her voice towards Emma’s ear. “Other things.”

A quick puff of air escapes Emma’s lips as she voicelessly snorts.

“What like food?” Kara pipes up as she watches them from the table, having frozen in shock at Emma’s fall.

“Yes Kara, especially the food.” Alex says sarcastically and rolls her eyes at Emma, causing the blonde to grin. “Can someone get me a wi-”

“Here you go babe.” Sam appears in a blur and hands Alex a cleansing wipe and a new neck plaster.

“Thanks.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Ruby asks nervously to her Mom.

“Yes Rubes she is.” Sam hugs her daughter reassuringly and ushers her back to her seat.

Alex does the task quickly and soon everyone is sitting around the table eating the meal Brainy and Nia had made while listening to Winn’s story about successfully stopping a bank robbery with James.

“And then the idiots decide to run while-”

“I swooped in and pummeled the sons of bitches and-”

“James! Children present!” Sam barks.

“Moooom!” Ruby whines but motions for James to continue.

Emma’s eyes quickly move to Winn and watch him deflate back into his chair as James takes over the story. As if sensing her gaze Winn looks up at her and Emma lifts her mouth into a smile. The corner of his mouth lifts up and he nods before shoving more food in his mouth.

“Sweetheart?” Eliza quietly catches her attention from across the table. “You need to eat some more.”

Emma glances down at her bowl of food and realises she’s barely touched it. Lowering her fork Emma scoops up a few pieces of macaroni and slowly chews it. The pain almost makes her wince but Emma doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for the kind gesture Nia and Brainy did for her.

Her Mom nods and smiles at her before turning back to J’onn to continue their conversation.

Emma continues picking at her food and listens to the different exchanges happening around the table. Her stomach pinches as she wants to join in the conversations but knows the rhythm of communications will severely slow down while she signs and someone speaks her words out for her.

Instead Emma keeps her head down and continues eating, imagining different melodies and lyrics for songs. Her fingers softly moving against the surface of the table as if she is playing ivory keys.

If anyone notices Emma’s subdued mood, they leave her be. Putting it down to fatigue from the surgery and emotional exhaustion from the aftermath.

Lena does slip her left hand under the table and rests it on Emma’s right thigh, making the blonde jump but Lena soothingly rubs her thumb back and forth, settling Emma quickly.

“-you think Emma?” Winn’s voice asks, bringing her out of her little music bubble.

“Winn was asking whether we should all go to the carnival next week?” Lena says helpfully having seen Emma snap out of her daze.

But before Emma can even process James pipes up.

“It may have to be the week after, there’s the convention at the arena.”

“Also gives us time to hire it out for a few hours.” Alex nods in thought. “Be nice not to have to wear face modifiers.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lena nods and smiles.

“That sounds like fun!” Nia claps her hands and beams at the group.

“And talking of next week, as everyone is here, Alex’s moving date is a week tomorrow. If anyone wants to help?” Sam says with a bright smile, causing Emma to smile back and nod.

“Really? That soon?” James enquires, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes, I’m practically spending all my time at Sam and Ruby’s apartment, so it makes sense.” Alex glares right back at her friend.

“And you don’t think you are moving too quickly since-” James jumps as a foot kicks his shin, he turns his head and glares at Winn.

“No, I don’t. Since it was your sister who left me.” Alex responds coolly.

James lifts his glass in surrender. “True. And someone has to keep the typical u-haul lesbians trend alive. Cheers.” He smirks and downs his drink, Alex lifts her beer and salutes him before taking a sip.

The night continues without any more hitches as the superfriends clear the table and a group game of monopoly starts. Emma typically pairs with Lena as her partner and mainly rests her head on Lena’s shoulder as the game progresses.

“What do you think love?” Lena asks, trying to keep Emma involved in the game. “Shall we swap our browns for the green James and Winn are offering?”

Emma nods, seeing it would be a good swap as they already had the two other properties and would create a set.

It was indeed a good move as more and more players land on their properties and Lena gleefully takes their money.

“Thank you kindly!” She smiles brightly as Sam thrusts all of Alex’s and her money, bankrupting them and winning Lena and Emma the game.

“Well done Aunty Lee.” Ruby yawns and copies Emma by resting her head on her Mom’s shoulder.

Lena smiles at the teen and the game is packed away. The group starts saying their goodbyes, all giving Emma reassuring hugs and consoling words.

Soon only Alex, Kara, Lena and Emma are in the apartment. The sisters hover by the balcony door while Lena finishes packing up the dishwasher, having already said her farewells. Kara seemingly held onto her longer than usual as they hugged.

“So, shall we have a sister night here on Friday?” Kara nervously asks as she fiddles with her glasses.

Emma slowly blinks while leaning against the window, feeling her eyes growing heavy, but she nods and smiles sleepily at the thought of a sister's night.

“Yea, sounds good.” Alex agrees and goes to give Emma a hug. “Goodnight peanut.” Emma wraps her arms around her sister and squeezes.

“Goodnight little one.” Kara comes behind Emma and Emma moves her arm back to try and hug her other sister as well.

Emma takes a deep breath, soaking in her warm feelings of love she is getting but immediately a silent yawn escapes her mouth.

“Sounds like someone needs to go to bed!” Alex laughs, Emma leans her head back against Kara’s shoulder and nods. Allowing her eyes to close while her sister’s hold her up.

“Okie dokie.” She hears Kara say and her smile widens at the phrase until suddenly she is lifted into Kara’s arms.

If she could have used her voice, Emma would have squealed in surprise. Instead a heavy, quick dispel of breath leaves her mouth.

“Sorry little one!” Kara exclaims after hearing Emma’s heartbeat increase in speed and she carries her baby sister into her bedroom. She smiles sadly as Emma wraps her arms around her shoulders and holds on. Alex glances over at Lena who is watching with sadness in her eyes.

“How are you doing Lena?” Alex asks, making Lena’s somber eyes snap to warm brown ones.

“Me?” The raven haired beauty asks, taken aback by Alex’s question.

“Anyone else in this room?” Alex quips and leans on the island.

“Well, I’m fine.”

“Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.” Alex lists off the familiar phrase and raises her eyebrows at Lena.

Making Lena chuckle. “Sounds about right.”

“But seriously, you know where I am if you ever need me. Kay?”

Lena’s face softens and she swallows deeply. “Thank you. And the same goes for you.”

Alex nods and Kara reappears in the living area.

“Shall we go?” Kara asks and heads towards the balcony, Alex turns to follow her.

“Oh and Alex?” Lena moves around the island to stand in front of the redhead. Making Kara whirl around by the intentive tone of her best friend’s voice.

‘This should be good.’ Kara smirks and watches.

“Yes Lena?” Alex asks and watches as Lena transforms into the powerful CEO and sizes the redhead up.

“As Sam is my oldest and dearest friend, I feel it is my duty to warn you that if you ever hurt her in any way, I will hunt you down and use other methods more painful then you can possibly imagine to hurt you back. Your little finger trick? Has nothing on what I can do.”

Seeing how serious Lena was Alex nods, schooling her expression to not smile. Knowing that Lena does infact mean it and the different ways of torture Lena can conjure up. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Lena nods then opens her arms to hug the redhead, which Alex gladly accepts. Suddenly a force plows into them, making the pair sway as Kara wraps her arms around them.

“Kara!” Alex laughs and Lena kisses her best friend’s head affectionately.

Soon the sisters finally leave as Kara flies Alex to Sam’s apartment. Lena watches them disappear into the night before closing and locking the balcony door.

“Hope, please turn off all the lights and engage security protocol.” Lena quietly calls out as she makes her way to the dimly lit bedroom.

Her stomach pinches as her eyes focus on a fast asleep Emma propped against the headboard as if waiting for her.

Lena silently steps into the room and closes the door, hearing the whirl of the security locks sliding into place.

Immediately she turns back to her girlfriend and walks softly over to her. Grimacing at the angle of Emma’s neck, imaging the painful tug the blonde will be feeling if she stays in that position for much longer.

Carefully Lena maneuvers Emma’s body to a lying position, the blonde doesn't stir once but immediately curls towards Lena’s side of the bed. Lena smiles sadly and quickly gets ready to join her girlfriend.

Finally she slides under the covers and lays on her side to face the still sleeping Emma.

“Goodnight my love.” Lena whispers, gently kissing Emma’s lips and wraps her arm around her waist.

(Part Thirty Six)

#supergirl #supergirl tv #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine #lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x baby danvers #alex danvers imagine #alex danvers #alex danvers x baby danvers #alex danvers x sam arias #kara danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers imagine #b!d #baby danvers #supergirl baby danvers

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aknosde · 3 years

Text

Omnes Una Manet Nox

The chronologically first installment of my Reyna Swap AU, Alea Iacta Est // Reyna Avilla Ramírez-Arellano // Fluff & Angst, but minor on the angst // the night before Reyna disappears // tw: mentions past minor character death // light swearing // 4.4k

ao3

—————

“That went well, didn’t it?” Jason asks with that familiar, absently intense energy. They’ve just descended the steps of the Senate after their monthly meeting with the consuls.

The two consuls, in their late thirties, oversee all of Camp Jupiter. Of course, the legion manages their own grounds and budget, under Jason and Reyna’s command, but the little oversight they do get is from the consuls.

Johnson was one of New Rome’s praetors, a few years back. He doesn’t care much about the legion, being from a legacy family and largely skirting his training and service, and he never ceases to make that known. Malhill is the one that always gets under Jason’s defenses. He’s good on policy, good on veterans, good on kids, everything that they could want. But he was the legion’s champion only ten years ago. A direct son of Apollo, a talented archer but an even better bender of light, a legion praetor, and he’s had his eyes on Jason’s career since day one. Reyna’s seen the way he eyes Jason whenever she and Jason are in New Rome, already pegging him for a consul position once Jason’s old enough.

“It went well, Jace,” she says. “Your mission plan is flawless, the only thing that could make them happier is if you’d go on it.” She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

Her remorse is tangible, visible in the line of his spine, the way he taps the place in his pocket where Ivlivs would sit if they were not inside the Pomerian Line, the subtle flick of his wrist.

Not for the first time, she thinks about Mount Othrys. Everything it took from her. Sometimes when she sleeps–not often, but enough–it plays over in her head. But something is always wrong.

She’s leading the charge, but suddenly it’s Jason next to her instead of Michelle. Or Jason and Michelle run into the throne room, but when she closes the door behind them it locks. She makes it into the throne room, slaying all of the Dracaena, but when she enters Atlas is holding Jason over his head, instead of fighting him hand to hand. On the good nights, Michelle isn’t dead when she bursts through the door, on the bad, she watches Michelle die. The one constant is Jason, gold ichor dripping down his face in a horrific mask. When she and Jason land the killing blow, together, she can always see it.

He doesn’t talk about it, of course. Not about Michelle, not about his election, not about the mountain. But she can see it weighing on him through the big things, like how he hasn’t been out of camp borders since the battle, and the small things, like how he glances up at the stars, as if one will come down and crush him any moment.

She rolls her right shoulder, feeling the ligaments shift, as if it will rid her of the thoughts, prepare her for a topic of conversation that often hits a little too close to home.

“Did you hear how Johnson pronounced my name? He’s even worse than you.” Maybe the small huff of a laugh Jason expels is worth it. “‘Miss Ramírez-Arellano,’” she continues, in a nasally imitation of the consul.

“I don’t say it that badly.”

“You say it like a white boy who didn’t know Spanish was a language until two seconds ago.”

“Ramírez-Arellano,” he says, better than consul Johnson, but she still hates hearing it. That girl is long gone, the only thing connecting her to Reyna is Hylla, and although Reyna loves her sister, she’s grateful for the distance that keeps Hylla from being a constant reminder.

“‘We were– were very, erm, dazzled, by your most recent proposition.’” She continues the impression until they are walking through the Praetorian Gate, Jason half hanging off her shoulder and giggling like they’re thirteen again.

He has a nice laugh. A friendly one. It seems to feed off of her volume, her effort, fluctuating the longer he goes. He shouts at her to stop several times, but he’s doubled over in armor, snorting, and all she wants to do is make him laugh like this forever.

It only gets worse on the steps of the Principa, when he decides a good revenge plan is to trip her. The building is dark like the rest of the legion. Two lamps, invisible under the light of day, flank the double doors, but the light is faint and barely makes its way to the stairs, washing everything in a pale yellow. She side steps his foot–his sneakers have reflective decals on them for the sake of the gods, he’s an idiot–but he’s shifted his weight so much that he ends up tripping himself.

They stumble through the doors, still chuckling, and make their way across the great hall as quickly as possible. They must have gotten a new tender for the Principa, because the lights are off like they forgot that people actually live here. Only two people, but still. The darkness makes the place unsettling, and now she’s counting on Jason to keep her occupied. A job he seems all too willing to fulfill as he runs through the next set of doors, still in full armor, clashing against the wood.

Upstairs is worse, she decides. The abandoned lounge reminds her of her childhood living room. Any moment her father could rise from one of the low couches, ready to scoop her up and throw her in her room, that crazed look in his eye.

Something clangs and she jumps.

“What the heck is this?” Jason’s whisper-shouting when she catches up with him in the hallway outside their rooms. He’s partially on the floor–hands keeping him from being face flat–and something is crinkling under his knee.

For some reason all Reyna can say is: “Did you just say ‘heck?’”

“Shut up,” he whines, and she wishes the lights were on just so she could see his ears turning red.

“Of course, farm-boy.”

He’s sitting back on his heels now, she can see the object’s dark outline as he holds it up, rustling in his hands.

“Seriously, what is this thing?” he asks, looking up at her.

“A bag with my old clothes,” she says, squinting. “I was going to see if any legionnaires need some.”

“And you have it by your door so you don’t forget,” he says, explaining for her. In the stress of running for office, of war, she forgot the ways in which they are attuned to each other. She forgot that she doesn’t have to explain and defend her every little action to him. It’s sad that it’s taken her almost two months to remember.

He sets the bag back down, nudging it into almost its exact spot, and hefts himself to his feet with a sigh. His brow furrows once he’s standing, looking out into the middle distance, but he sees the quirk of her brow and quickly explains himself, “We have that meeting with the centurions tomorrow after breakfast.”

Jason is a social person. A true extrovert. He hates being alone, working alone, and the quiet that comes with both. So what he’s really saying is that he has work left to do and wants some company. And who is she to deny him that? “Do you want to work in the main hall, office, or my room?”

He grins, clapping his hands and then raises his palms to the sky. “Bedroom, praise Fortuna.”

“Five minutes, Sparkplug,” she says, bumping her shoulder into his own as she sidesteps him into her room. His eyes follow her as she goes, like she’s his North Star, and damn him for making her heart skip a beat, because in the empty space Venus’ words always echo. She stomps them down, before her face can fall, before the hollow silence can fill the hallway, and in their place she jams a smirk. “If you’re lucky I’ll even edit your speech.”

As her door clicks behind her she can hear him groan, “I just prayed to Fortuna.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, briefly surveying her room to decide what to do first.

Being praetor has its perks, like private bath and bedrooms across the hall from her best friend and king sized beds, but it also means she is no longer in the practice of keeping her space ready for inspections. Her comforter is pulled up, but her bed isn’t made, files are scattered across her desk and on her dresser, and her wardrobe is wide open.

She decides on doing everything at once, which involves a crooked path across her room as she shucks off armor, not bothering with her armor stand, and changes out of the nice clothes she wore to meet the consuls. All the while she turns on lights, puts on sweats, makes her bed, and tucks away files.

Jason knocks on her door five minutes later, that ever punctual bastard, just as she’s zipping her hoodie over her tank top.

“Help me, Reyna,” he says, holding a typed copy of his speech out to her in both hands like some sort of trophy. “You’re my only hope.”

She snorts, snatching the pages out of his hands. “Nice reference.”

He cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed, and she bets if he were actually a wolf one of his ears would be turned as well.

“You just made a Star Wars reference,” she says, but he looks just as confused.

“What’s Star Wars?” He asks warily.

She swears to herself in Spanish, because otherwise he’ll tease her about the legion’s anti-swearing policies, collapsing dramatically back on her bed, and sighs. “It’s a movie trilogy, wolf boy.”

“Ah.”

Another thing she forgot, apparently, is how little Jason knows about basically anything outside of camp. He says he arrived when he was three, and wasn’t even allowed into the city until he was eight, which apparently means he’s never been to a movie theater.

By now he seems used to her telling him about the more innocent aspects of the mortal world, and at the very least takes his lack of knowledge in stride. If only he would watch the movies and shows she’s downloaded on his laptop for him.

When she looks up after reading his introduction he is sitting at her desk, picking at some invisible blemish while subtly putting highlighters away, and looking around her room.

“If you start cleaning I’m throwing you out.”

He grumbles to himself, but she makes out a yes ma’am somewhere in the mix, so she decides to throw him a bone.

“If you want to occupy yourself I have a speech about legion veterans you can fact check,” she says, faux casual, not that he can tell. He needs to do something before he starts picking at his nails instead of the wood.

“Sure.”

“It’s in one of the red folders.”

“Would that be the one on the floor under your desk or the one on your dresser,” he says, sounding far too cheeky.

“The one on my dresser, and stop pretending you’re better than me, asshole.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, walking to her dresser. “Better than the best? How could I be?”

“Mmmhmm,” she responds, half ignoring him in favor of his speech, aware of the ticking clock.

It’s truly impossible for him to stay awake past ten, a fact that is only proven the next time she looks up and he’s asleep at her desk, pen still in hand and a research paper opened on her laptop. No matter how often she reminds him that the regimented lights out of the legion no longer applies to them, he just can’t seem to break the habit.

“Jason.” She nudges his shoulder, extracting the pen at the same moment so he can’t smudge her speech.

His head jerks, eyes alert, but voice groggy when he says, “What’s going on?” All legionnaires wake up in a similar manner, but for some reason it only strikes her as amusing when he does it.

She hadn’t thought of what she was waking him up for, besides a need to do it, and her mind wanders to the Forum, wondering if her favorite café would still be open at this hour. She’s starving, she realizes. Their meeting with the consuls had been pushed back and they had had to skip dinner to make it.

She grins. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”

“Roof s’mores?”

“Reyna,” he drags out the last syllable, fading it into a sigh. “That takes energy.”

“Okay, but–” She holds her hands out, weighing them. “Would you rather spend the energy to just walk across the hall and go to sleep, or climb up to the roof with me and roast us a couple marshmallows?”

Jason looks at her like is that a real question? which had been her intention. She folds her hands into a pleading gesture and pouts emphatically–he’s always more flexible when she acts a little silly. “Please, Jace. I got that cheap chocolate you like. I’ll even get the stuff myself, you can go straight up.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes and she smiles, satisfied, and already on her way out the door.

The praetorian kitchen reminds her of office break rooms on television, besides the fact that it looks perpetually unnatural, mostly due to the fact that only three people go inside–her, Jason, and the Principa tender–and it’s always pristine. The only things actually kept in there are coffee, tea, and of course: her and Jason’s secret stash of s’more supplies, buried in the back of the cabinet with the untouched bowls.

By the time she’s through the roof access door, conveniently placed to hide it from the view of anyone on the ground, Jason is already sitting by the dark spot of ash that signifies their pastime. Because, yes, they started coming up here long before either of them were elected Praetor.

He’s a dark outline against the night sky, sitting criss-crossed and looking down at the façades of the other legion buildings, and briefly she has the thought that somebody could make a painting out of this. She slides her old Camp Jupiter ID back between the lock and door jamb, willing the thought to disappear with the potential of the fire alarm going off.

She shivers as she sits next to him, nose wrinkling with the cold now that she’s fully vulnerable to the elements. Without a word Jason removes his sweatshirt and passes it to her.

“I’m already wearing one.”

“Mine is thicker, trade me.”

And because he’s Jason, she does.

It’s slightly big on her, his shoulders just a few inches broader than her own, and a forest green. On the back is a printed vine of purple flowers and a date. She recognizes it as one of the prizes of the Ludi Florae, or Games of Flora, from Floralia last year. The festival sits right between April and May, and last year’s was the grandest of all. Or so Jason says. Everyone had been anxious about Mount Othrys, and apparently all of that energy had been funnelled into the events.

Reyna herself had been busy running for praetor. All she remembers from the festival is campaigning. And Jason, running up to her looking flushed, this sweatshirt thrown over one shoulder.

“Remember when I told you that you were the best, Jace,” she says sweetly once she is safely swaddled in his hoodie. He’s right–it is thicker.

Jason grins up at her, wrapping his hands around two marshmallows. “I may recall something along those lines having been said a long, long time ago.”

“Well, I just want to inform you that I retract that statement, because this sweatshirt is ugly and the cuffs are burnt.”

The electricity that had been slowly coursing over the ridges of his fingers flares for a second, and his hands fly open as if he was handed metal straight from the forges. “Oops.” Both of the marshmallows are burnt, but his lips are turned up in a poorly concealed smirk.

“I forget you’re a heathen,” she says primly, sticking her nose in the air instead of saying any of the less wholesome options at the back of her throat.

“Does liking burnt marshmallows make me a heathen?”

She pretends to mull it over for a second, extracting the rest of their supplies. “Yes. You have to buy the next bag because you’re mean and I say so.”

She takes the burnt marshmallow regardless, sandwiching it between her own chocolate and graham crackers. Jason takes three squares of the Hershey bar he likes for absolutely no good reason, and does the same. She shakes her head. He’s the fucking all American boy who sticks with the classics even when he doesn’t know they’re the classics. She has no idea how he does it.

They don’t talk while they eat, regrettably the silence reminding her of her childhood, no matter how hard she pushes against it. She looks up at the stars, trying to forget the cold kitchen, cold house, even in hundred degree heat. It’s times like this when the ring, and the chain she wears it on, weigh heavy on her neck.

It feels like a noose right now, just as much as it feels like freedom, like power, every other second of her life. Like a sentence, compelling her to pay for her crimes, to confess to them, to wreck her world so terribly that she would lose up from down and die. A fair punishment.

“What are you thinking about,” Jason asks a while after they’ve finished. She looks at him, sitting back on his hands, looking at her, not the sky. It’s dark on the roof, but the light from the street lamps seems to center around him. It glints off his hair, visibly blond even in the night, and pours into his eyes. They’re always so blue. So blue it looks fake. But they never cease to pull Reyna in. Sometimes she swears she can see lightning arc across his irises.

He’s always asking her questions like this. Innocent and curious, no ulterior motives, no goals. He genuinely wants to know. And if she doesn’t answer, he’ll drop it, because he always does. It’s not something she’s used to, even after all these years; this place she has in his mind, if not his heart. A place of utter respect. He doesn’t question her because he knows what she is thinking, and when he doesn’t, he accepts her. Would he still, if he knew what she did to her father?

She breaks his gaze with that thought. It’s too much. “My sister,” she says instead, and it doesn’t feel right to look back. Under oath, Reyna would say that Jason is the most important person in her life. Her best friend; the person she sees every day, talks to every day, eats with and works with. He is the closest thing she has to a family here. And she– And she loves him. Maybe as a little more than a friend. But talking about her sister while looking him in the eye feels too intimate, too intense. “She would like you.”

It is something to say, simply to say something, but maybe she isn’t wrong. There is something in Jason that reminds her of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and not in the way that haunts her nightmares and twists her sheets around her until they become bonds she can’t quite break free of. Being on Blackbeard’s crew, that’s how Reyna learned hard work, in a way she never had before. It had instilled a drive in her, to change everything, to rewrite systems, to make something so beautiful it was unrecognizable. And perhaps Jason doesn’t have that same drive, but he knows the work. He goes out of his way to do it dirty and hard and long. He refuses to take the thousands of shortcuts he’s offered. And Hylla would admire that, she thinks.

“I had a sister,” he whispers.

For a second–just a second–she’s stuck. “What?”

“I had a sister.” He picks at a loose thread on his jeans for a moment, and that’s how she knows he’s serious, because he hates ripping his jeans more than almost anything else. He’s refusing to meet her gaze. “Thalia Grace.”

He says her name soft and tender. She can imagine him, standing over a hearth, cradling the name between his palms and looking at it the same way he first looked when he was gifted Ivlivs. Big, round eyes.

“That’s really nice, Jace,” she says, because he rarely surprises her, and for once she doesn’t know what to say.

He looks up at her, smiling tightly. His eyes are sad. Is that how she looks when she thinks about Hylla?

“You can tell me about her, if you want,” Reyna says when the moment becomes two, and then three, because Jason doesn’t bring up things he doesn’t want to talk about. But Jason also has his own ideas about debt, about worthiness, and it is clear to her that he told her about his sister in exchange for Reyna talking about her own.

He smiles at her. A real smile, if small. She feels warm, and it’s not from his extra thick sweatshirt.

“I don’t remember a lot about her, but… She had black hair. So dark, like the night. And her eyes, they were amazing. Bright blue, like a perfect sky. Sometimes I can see them, in this half-memory half-dream, and they’re so strong they look like how an electric shock feels.”

“Like yours,” she whispers, and Jason hums in a way that makes it frustratingly unclear if he heard her or not. She hopes not.

“When I was little,” he continues, after another moment of staring wistfully over the Twelfth Legion, “I used to imagine she was looking for me. That one day she would find me, here, be proud of me for– I don’t know what. Love me, or something. All that stupid shit.” He trails off again, picking at his nails, but she can’t bring herself to chide him.

There are things that she knows about Jason, true as the sun rising in the east and the pull of the moon on the tides and the sound of imperial gold on whetstone. She knows that he works hard, works with the public, flushes under the compliments of people older than him because he has never had a concrete parental figure. Not even one to hate, to fear, to mourn. She knows that he never trusts praise from these people because he knows his parentage, knows they know, knows that he is connected to his father in the eyes of these people in a way he doesn’t feel himself, and never will.

Truths of Jason that are pillars in her understanding of him, that were pivotal in their relationship. But like so many supports, they were never acknowledged. Truth has no need to be stated, and she has no compellence to state that which is unnecessary. He talks of Thalia, telling Reyna that he wants his sister to want him, to find him, and to love him not because he is a son of Jupiter, but because he’s him.

She doesn’t say, I don’t care about you because you’re the son of Jupiter, I care about you because you are my best friend. And she doesn’t say, I care about you because you listen to people, because you care about them and what happens to them so instinctively that I cannot understand it. She doesn’t say, I’m proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

She doesn’t say those things because he knows them, because they are truths, and truths do not need to be said.

But still, something must be done.

She– She’s always been bad at the physical things. She can do a handshake, a fist bump, but she has never been a hugger, no matter that Jason is. She’s never managed a hip-check, or a shoulder pat, or ruffled his hair in any way that wasn’t rough and meant to hurt.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t try.

She goes slow, leaning over slightly, feels the cool breeze breaking on her knuckles. Gently, perhaps more gently than she has done anything in her life, she takes his hands, detangles them, presses her finger pads against the bleeding bits where he’s torn his skin away. She closes her hands around his own, cups them in her palms.

He looks up at her, tears welled on his water line but nothing has spilled, and she feels his hands move in her own, feels him latch on, like when they were young and late for assignments, running across the grounds and refusing to leave each other behind. She looks into his eyes, wide. Electrifying. Just like she knew they were.

She waits for the moment to stretch and break, like moments oft do. Her last move is to give his hands a squeeze, hopefully reassuring, and he gives her another small smile and moves to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, the one he’s still wearing.

“We should probably be going to bed,” she says, because she doesn’t have anything else to say. He laughs, wetly, but in that way everybody laughs when they’re told something they already know. It makes her smile; it’s special when he does it.

Everybody isn’t wrong, she thinks as she and Jason part ways outside their rooms, Jason Grace is special. But not because he is the son of Jupiter. He’s special because Reyna had never wanted friends, and here he is, her best. He’s special because he does things, normal things, and they make her smile. He’s special because he does everything in his power to ensure he deserves the love he receives. And gods, she thinks, does he deserve it.

She slips off her necklace and gets under her duvet cover, curling up and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweatshirt. Chunks of the polyester-wool fabric are hard and melted from undoubtedly unfortunate rendezvous with electricity. She finds one, right where his thumb would rest, and rubs it between her own thumb and index finger as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she’s on a school bus.

—————

Others in this series: Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur

#there's more info and clarifications in the end notes of ao3 so check those out #but i'm always happy to answer any questions about any of my writing #especially this series #chart writes #fic: Omnes una manet nox #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Reyna!Swap au #alea iacta est #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo fic #hoo fanfic #hoo #pjo #pjo fanfic #tw death mention #reyna ramirez arellano #riordanverse

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everdreamart · 3 years

Text

How I Gravitate Towards You

Rating: Teen and up

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widowgast

The Mighty Nein return The Blooming Grove. Essek takes time to think about the events that happened and has a talk with Caleb. Things slowly escalate from there ;)

~~~~~~~~~~

The grove was beautiful. Vines intertwined and tangled with the colorful blooms dotting the landscape. You would almost forget that this was, infact, a graveyard with the amount of life around it. Essek took a second to breathe in the nature around him. A very welcome change of environment compared to Cognoza.

Sighs and cheers of relief and triumph echoed around him as the Mighty Nein bathed in their newfound victory. The sight warmed his chest. His friends. Now there were actually nine of them.

How ironic. Essek thought to himself with a smile.

The Clays burst out of the moss covered temple and started to bombard the group with hugs. Caduceus was practically beaming with joy to see his family again. Jester rambled on about their adventure as the Clays eagerly rushed them inside. They gave curious glances to the two new members, but decided not to say anything about it at the moment.

Within moments food and tea were being prepared. Fjord asked to help with the cooking but was promptly shut down by Cornelius.

"Look at you all! It looks as if you have been through hell and back! Rest. We will take care of it," he said.

The food was delicious. Reminiscent of Caduceus' cooking from that one night in the Xhorhous. He smiled fondly at the memory. Essek's eyes drifted to each member of the Mighty Nein. How did this even happen?

His thoughts spiraled into an assortment of memories. Cold and alone in his study. Ambition gnawing at him as he struggles to progress in his research. Greed and selfish desire as he traded away his country's livelihood for knowledge. Fear as a bloodied human holds up one of the beacons he stole. Rage at the thought that his so very carefully planned espionage would be ruined by a bunch of sell-swords.

When had this ragtag group worn down his walls? Was it Jester's hugs? Or her consistently chaotic messages? Was it Yasha in her soft silence, or was it Beau in her harsh way of loving? Maybe Caduceus, with his gentle reassuring gestures. Or Veth, with her tough but kind way of showing care. Maybe it was Caleb. A mind that matches so perfectly to his own it was almost unsettling. Intellect sharp and piercing, with a gaze so intense he could melt under its warmth.

Essek found his eyes laid on Caleb. The strands of copper red hair falling partially over his eyes. A small part of him resists the urge to reach across the table and push the strands away. He studied his features, as if he hadn't already memorized them. The sharp curve of his jawline, his slightly tussled beard. Eyes so blue it almost felt like looking into the daytime sky. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he talked to Beauregard next to him. Essek lingered on that sight. The stress of these past weeks washed away as he focused on Caleb's smile. Then Caleb's eyes met his. Electricity jolted through him as the spark of whatever it was between them burned. Essek quickly looked away, a slight warmth building in his cheeks. He thanked the Luxon for drow skin coloration.

After food was had, the group gushed over their old (new..?) Friend. Poor man was probably so overwhelmed by the attention. Mollymauk - as Jester had told him - didn't say much at all in response to the Mighty Nein's questions.

"Empty… empty…" he trailed off.

As happy as they all were, exhaustion took over their senses. They were due for a much needed rest. Caleb did not have enough energy left to create the tower (Essek had quite a bit of thoughts he still needed to unpack about that place), so the group decided to sleep in the grove. Yasha lay with Beau snuggled up against her. They hugged and muttered sweet nothings to each other in low whispers. Molly was not too far from Yasha, and was quickly taken by peaceful sleep. Jester lay partially on Fjord's chest, talking about some new prank she wanted to try on her newly reunited parents. Caduceus lay back against the wall and was already passed out - his snore a rather loud one. Caleb lay next to veth, who was already out cold.

There wasn't really a need to be so close - they weren't in the confinements of the dome. And yet, they choose to drift near each other. Comfortable in the proximity. Essek felt very out of place. In the nights prior he could always stay a fair distance away from the cuddle pile, for the sake of keeping watch. But now, with the group all clumped together in the mass of life that was the blooming grove, Essek didn't know quite where to go. He fidgeted in his space as he debated where to trance. He can't go too far, but he definitely can't intrude on this intimate bond they all share. Eventually, Essek sits down a few feet from Caleb. He always seemed to gravitate towards him. Perhaps it was the similarities between them that made Essek feel safer in his presence.

Essek starts to begin his trance, and it is only then that the weight of the day's events crash onto him. The horrors of Cognoza will never truly leave his mind, but it is nothing compared to the absolute terror he felt when they were in that final fight.

The watch of one of the Somnovem caught him early on. The guilt of his actions surged into him tenfold. The lives he took, the families he'd broken, all for the sake of his selfish thirst for knowledge. It was all his fault.

He didn't catch sight of the tower hurled at him until it was too late. Caleb grunted as the weight of the rock (..flesh? It was very confusing) trapped him beneath it. Essek felt a surge of fear as he pictured the worst. He quickly scrambled over to where Caleb laid and desperately tried to pull him out. To no avail, it would seem. Those of his craft were not quite suited for these feats. Essek summoned the bead of possibility he had placed in himself beforehand. With a surprising surge of strength, he got Caleb to his feet.

In a rush of adrenalin,Caleb pulled him close and touched their foreheads together. If this was a different circumstance, Essek would be soaring. A small part of him completely forgot about the raging battle around them. That part focused on the presence of the man next to him. The wood burning autumn scent now mixed with the iron-y tinge of blood. That part of him noticed how close they were. Faces mere inches apart. Essek felt his heart jump into his throat. Then Caleb pulls back, the moment ending as quick as it began.

The ferver gained from this interaction was short-lived as Jester fell. Her bloody and broken corse strewn to the side carelessly. It was then that things started to go so very wrong. Jester was back thanks to Caduceus, mere seconds after she fell, but Esseks attention immediately went elsewhere. Caleb clutched at his torso with a grunt of pain as he fell, unconsciousness taking his form. Essek didn't even know he was capable of the rage that followed. He screamed and tore the very fabric of gravity itself around Lucien.

Then the battle field changed. It was no longer the fleshy horror of a city, but now a calming forest surrounding him. He looked forward to see the Mighty Nein - happy and smiling - with a hand outstretched towards him. It was Caleb. Caleb was calling him over to join them. Excitement burbled into him as he rushed towards the sight. It was only when he reached his destination he realized he had made a grave mistake.

The image of Caleb's torn and sundered body is one that will never leave Essek's mind. The sound it made as his lifeless corpse fell to the ground. The look he gave as the light left his eyes. It haunts him. The amount of terror, rage, pain and guilt he felt in that moment was immesruable. The world faded around him. Only being able to see the bloody shell of what once burned so bright. He fell to his knees, not hearing the final cries of battle around him. Essek's hands shook with emotion as he reached out to grab one of Caleb's. Those bright blue eyes he once knew were replaced by the vacuous expanse of emptiness and cold. He didnt hear the clerics rushing over and saying their prayers. He didn't hear the rest of the group trying to stifle their tears. He only stared into those eyes. Essek didn't breathe until Caleb inhaled once more.

Thoughts swirled around his head like an ocean of violent emotion. He can't trance like this. Essek stood up - trying his best to not wake his sleeping friends - and walked outside.

The calming reverie of the grove helped clear his mind a bit from these nightmares. He wandered around the exapanse, his hand tracing the occasional gravestone as he went. Eventually he came to the edge of the perimeter. Tall crystalline tree-like growths sprouted forth infront of him. Glowing ever so faintly. It was beautiful, the garden around him. So Essek sat and let himself soak up the tranquility of the nature around him.

It wasn't until he heard the rustle of footsteps that he opened his eyes.

"Its a bit late to be wandering the grove by yourself," Caleb noted, taking a seat next to Essek.

"Just… needed to clear my mind a bit." He replied.

"Ja, I get it. That was… a lot." Caleb laughed softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Essek found himself enraptured in the sound.

Caleb looked down, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if deep in thought. He turned to look at Essek with a burning intensity. "Thank you, Essek."

Essek was taken aback by this. "For what?"

"You didn't have to come with us. You didn't have to risk your life just because I asked. And yet, you came anyway. Thank you." Caleb spoke softly. Appreciative.

Essek's mind whirred with thoughts. He didn't know how to respond. "I…" he trailed off. "Of course I.." Of course I had to come. You asked me to. I would do anything you asked. He didn't say. Instead, settling upon, "Of course I came. I care for you all more than any Dynasty or Empire. And I owe you this much."

Caleb shifted a bit at that. His hands fidgeted for a moment as he looked away. He moved his hand to touch Essek's. The touch was minimal. Almost unoticable to anyone but himself. Essek nearly jumped at the contact. A familiar tingling setting into his stomach.

Caleb's hand slowly grabbed Essek's, calloused fingers meeting smooth ones. Essek tried to map every detail. Every little feeling of the other man's hand in his. Entirely focused on the heat covering his skin.

"What do you plan to do after this?" Caleb inquired.

That startled Essek out of his reverie. "I.. I honestly do not know." He mumbled out. He couldn't go back to the dynasty, not with his situation like this. Could he go back to the outpost? Would that be safer? He was still responsible for people up there. He hadn't noticed himself squeezing Caleb's hand. At least, until Caleb squeezed back.

"What about you?" Essek asked, trying to shift the focus. "What do you plan on doing now?"

Caleb pondered for a moment, before responding with "There is still a few issues I need to take care of. I still have to help fix my home. Remove a cancer before it can spread."

Then, silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, per say, but something hung in the air. After a few moment in this quiet, Caleb turned and placed Essek under the intensity of his gaze. Those blue eyes bore into him with such a warmth. And Essek craved it. He craved to feel those eyes wash over him. He needed to see those eyes, alive and burning with a fiery passion.

The immense gravity of what he almost lost crushes him. The man sitting next to him, tenitivly holding his hand, died. If things hadn't worked out so well, if something different happened, he wouldnt have Caleb here next to him. That thought broke him. His eyes dropped down to look at the ground. Apperently he wasnt doing a very good job at hiding his emotions at the moment, because Caleb's face fell. He frowned and scooted closer to cup Essek's cheek.

"What's wrong, Shaltz?" Caleb asks tenderly. His thumb rubbing Essek's Cheekbone.

Essek looked up at him, and put his other hand on Caleb's as if to confirm that he was really here. "You… died Caleb… you died and I couldn't do anything. What if Caduceus and Jester didn't get there so quickly? What if something went wrong? What if-"

"I'm here. I'm ok. Everything is ok." Caleb cut him off. His voice gentle and soothing.

It was only then that Essek met his gaze. Caleb smiled softly, and Essek realized how close they were. Caleb's breath ghosting over Essek's lips. Essek forgot how to breathe. He could only focus on the feeling of Caleb so close to him. So close and yet not close enough. If he could just close the few inches… It took every ounce of self control that Essek had to steady himself. His pounding heart, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He knew he was staring. How could he not? Small freckles speckled across Caleb's face, framed by vibrant red hair.

The hand placed on Essek's cheek moved to the back of his neck, and Essek froze. Caleb painstakingly leaned in. So slow, so excruciatingly slow. As if to give Essek time to back away. To leave. But he didn't. And their lips met. The kiss was so soft, almost featherlight, and Essek's mind went blank. He could only focus on the sensation of Caleb's lips on his, how they were chapped and warm and perfect.

Caleb pulled back, a breaths distance between them. In all of his study of time, all Essek wanted to do now was stop it on that moment. It was over far too soon. Just the smallest brush of lips. He wanted it to last longer. He wanted more.

Essek leaned back in, crashing their lips together. This time the kiss was more desperate. As if scared that the other would pull away. Essek relished in the feeling. The heat of the man so close to him spreading to every inch of his body. Their lips fit together perfectly. Moving together and pressing into eachother. Essek moved his hand to Caleb's head. His fingers combing through the strands of coppery red. It was perfect. He wanted to remember every little sensation. He wanted to chart every little movement. His heart was beating so hard in his chest. He wants this to last forever.

They separate after what feels like a lifetime to catch their breath. Caleb's mouth is still parted as he gasps for breath. Essek savors the taste of Caleb on his lips as his breathing begins to steady. Part of him wants to reach out. To take Caleb's mouth once more. But Caleb speaks before this is possible.

"That was…."

He doesn't need to complete the sentence. Essek already knew.

And they gravitated towards each-other once more.

#critical role #cr essek #caleb widogast #shadowgast #essek theyless #caleb x essek #This is my first CR fic pls don't judge #I just wanted the wizards to kiss #Almost canon compliant #don't forget to love each other

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vintagedolan · 3 years

Text

mixtape | track six

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist | visual by @brockhsmpton

“Okay so let me get this straight. You have a boyfriend. Your boyfriend is famous. You’re flying to LA with said boyfriend. And you’re staying at his house? Cause he’s 20 and has a fucking house.”

“Uh yeah, that pretty much covers it.”

“Jesus, I move across the country and then you decide to start getting interesting.”

Indy flipped her grilled cheese over in the skillet, and then flipped off the camera, getting an eye roll from Charlie that she felt through the facetime call.

“You gonna be okay on the plane?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, trying to push the nagging thoughts from her mind.

“Indiana. You’ve gotta tell him before you get on that plane. If you can even get on the plane that is.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it, okay?”

Her list of distractions was dwindling as she finished all the work that had been piled on her before fall break, which was really only a long four day weekend. All she had left was an exam that afternoon, and then it would be time to go.

Grayson had insisted that they take Beks advice, take a trip out of the city to somewhere other than Jersey. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least.

“That sounds fun but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. Her usual excuse for getting out of things that made her anxious was simple. School. Too much homework, upcoming exam, blah blah blah. Usually that just earned her an eye roll, maybe an off hand ‘nerd’ comment too, but then the subject would be dropped.

Grayson wouldn’t be swayed that easily; and, she didn’t even have her default option. She scrambled for ideas with her thoughts running wild until he reached across the couch and laid his hand on top of hers.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I was thinking about airports.” It wasn’t a lie, but that was only partially the culprit of the knot in her stomach.

“It’s a straight flight to LA, super easy. I’ve done it way too many times, I know my way around.”

She chewed her lip and he squeezed her hand.

“C’mon, you’ll love it. LA is shitty sometimes but it’s amazing too. And you can meet Eden finally, she’s always asking about you. And Adele too. And I can show you the house, the pod studio. We can go surfing if you want. I’ll take you to Monty’s.”

“Gray. I can’t afford it.”

“Like I was gonna make you pay for it,” he laughed, but she stayed still beside him, unable to find the same amusement.

“I don’t want you to spend money on me like that.”

“Money doesn’t mean much to me. Doesn’t mean anything to me really,” he shrugged - she couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. It felt a bit hypocritical, for her to be acting like she struggled with money while she sat in her nice Chelsea apartment. But that money hadn’t come from her own pockets - it came with the price tag of guilt and the threat of it being taken away if her dad felt like it, which kept her and her ever shrinking savings account on edge. Money didn’t seem to be a real concept in the Dolan family however, and she tried to remind herself of that while Gray toyed with her fingers.

He switched to other tactics of persuasion when the silence stretched a bit too long, moving closer and nuzzling into her neck, pressing little kisses to her skin in between murmurs of “please Dee” and “c’mon baby”.

She conceded, gently tugging on his hair to get him to come back to her.

“Fine. But I’m paying you back one day. When I can.”

Grayson knew that wouldn’t be for years, and he liked the idea of her and him that far in the future, so he just nodded and kissed her again.

Charlie stayed on the line while Indy ate and then moved on to finish her packing, throwing in too many outfits for just four days and four nights, but she wasn’t sure what California called for. It took her a good five minutes of digging to find her bathing suits that she hadn’t drug out since the summer, but she eventually added them to the bag as the final touch and got everything ready. Charlie convinced her to take a few pieces of skimpier clothing in case the ‘vibes were right’, which had Indy blushing bright red and eventually making an excuse to get off the phone before she had to get into her sex life any further with her sister.

Her breathing settled for a moment when her phone buzzed, a message from ‘gray 💚 ’.

Plane snacks?

Also does coffee make you shit your pants

Cause I’ll get you some for the ride to the airport if it won’t hurt your tummy on the plane

Leave it to him to put a smile on her face even as her stomach continued to turn. She tried to convince herself it was her exam that had her so worked up, but she knew better.

if 4 years as a barista gave me anything it was immunity in that department

so yes to the coffee pls :)

and just get me whatever you’re getting for snacks please

Gotcha, I’ll swing by and get your bag

Good luck on your exam! Not that you need it

I’ll be waiting outside in the ugly ass truck 💜 I love you

see you soon, I love you too

With that she packed up the last few things, leaving her bag in plain sight before she left for class. She was able to clear her mind enough on her walk, getting herself into ‘school mode’ before she got to the building. The exam went easily, as she expected that it would - it was nice to have subjects like medical terminology that were so cut and dry sometimes. Either you know it, or you don’t, as Nicole used to say. No point in guessing.

Indy didn’t like having to guess.

Which was why she had the airport map pulled up on her phone while she stood on the sidewalk, leaned up against the building as she tried to plan out the best way to get to the terminal that they needed. She’d already done this - three times, actually - but it made her feel better anyways.

She heard the rumble of the engine first, but it only held her ears for a moment. Because then, it was a giggle, and a squeal, and a whispered voice saying “no, that’s them, that has to be them! Who the fuck else would have a truck like that?”

Indiana’s stomach tightened even more somehow at the realization of what was happening. Charlie’s voice rang in her ears - your boyfriend is famous.

They’d never talked about what to do in a situation like this, but she’d seen enough stories about celebrities who hid their relationships to know that ‘undisclosed’ was the default setting. Suddenly very thankful that she’d decided to go with a hoodie that morning, she pulled the fabric up over her hair and dropped her head, keeping her eyes trained upward to watch what Grayson was doing.

She watched the girls go up to the cab and ask for a photo, which Grayson seemed to happily oblige to, though he didn’t get out of the car. He noticed her a moment later and his smile faltered at the realization that she’d been waiting on him. The girls asked him to give their love to Ethan and then went on their way. Indy held back for a few moments, waiting until they were out of sight before she hurried forward and got into the passenger seat.

“You must have finished that exam quick, I figured I’d be waiting on you,” Gray teased, but his voice was a bit tight.

“It was pretty easy, you either know it or you don’t.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t have known any of it,” he laughed, eyes still scanning the street - whether for cars or people, she couldn’t tell. “You ready to go?”

No. “Sure.”

The pair had felt the peace of comfortable silence enough in their relationship so far to know when it was absent, and there wasn’t a trace of it to be found. Indy was too caught up in her own mind to react to Grayson’s attempts to engage her, from the hand on her bouncing thigh to the looks he snuck, eyes darting from the busy road for a moment. She kept her coffee in both her hands - drinking it was counterproductive in terms of her nerves most likely, but the warmth of it was comforting enough for her to justify it. Grayson’s mouth got drier with every exit they passed, and he kept his cool until they got to the pay to park lot at the airport and he shifted the truck into park.

“We don’t have to go you know.”

The dejection in his voice was finally enough to pull Indiana out of her own little world. Her eyes came back into focus as she turned to him.

“Gray-”

“If it’s about the money, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just really wanted to show you LA, cause it’s a big part of me, and I didn’t want you to be stressed about the price of tickets.”

“It’s not the money.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re pissed about something, obviously, and I’d like to be let in on the secret if you don’t mind.”

She shrunk under his harsh tone, unsure of whether she should even say anything. She hated when she got like this, and hated even more that she didn’t even have a hope of control over it, despite it being herself, her own mind causing the issues.

“Planes.”

“What?”

“It’s not you, it’s planes. Airports. Flying in general. I just… I don’t like it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ve been on plenty of planes, and nothing bad has ever happened while I was on there.” There was an airiness to his tone, as if it was as simple as his own testimony fixing the entire situation.

“That… doesn’t help.” She didn’t even like the thought of him being on a plane, much less the both of them. She practically flinched at the sound of one flying over them.

Grayson’s wheels were turning, slower than he wanted them to as he scrambled for an idea, anything that could make her feel better at the realization that his words had only made it worse.

“Can I have a redo on that?”

She looked up at him - at his sheepish smile and the blush on his cheeks, and the next breath she took in was a tad easier.

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling anxious, what can I do to help?”

His tone was so flat that they just looked at each other and then busted out laughing. Indiana couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her laugh when she felt so terribly. It was almost foreign to her - she felt like she shouldn’t be doing it somehow.

“Sorry, that was - fuck that was formal,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “What I meant was, whatever you need, I’ll do. You just have to tell me.”

“Uh… not going.”

His hand moved to the gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and leave. She placed hers on top of his, holding on when he moved away.

“Kidding.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little serious. But I want to. I want to go, it’s just hard. Having someone with me that I trust helps though.”

His chest swelled a bit at the realization that he was considered one of those people - it was one of the best honors he could imagine being given by somebody that he cared about, probably because it wasn’t something that he gave out easily. He pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the soft skin.

“I’ll be with you then. You can hold onto me the whole time.”

“You sure about that?”

He frowned immediately at that, reaching his hand over to her thigh, running a thumb over the material of her leggings. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’re probably gonna have more fans coming up to you and stuff. I figured you didn’t want them like… knowing about me.”

“I never said that,” he countered, squeezing a bit. “I mean if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but I’m okay with it if you are.”

There was a sincerity to his gaze that conveyed what he hadn’t said - an almost plea for her to be okay with it. And so she was, at least enough for her to give him a nod and a quick kiss before stepping out of the truck.

He got to her bags before she could, and he was grateful that he’d only brought a duffle. He managed both bags with one hand and grabbed onto hers with the other as they started through the parking lot.

And he didn’t let go a single time, apart from the security scans and her going to pee after they made it through, in which he waited outside the bathroom for her with his arms crossed. Ethan met up with them at the terminal, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see Eden for the first time in a month. He was staying an extra week to get some quality time with her, and he was a constant stream of excitement. Grayson kept his attention on Indy though, trying to read her for any signs that things were getting worse. He kept a hand on her bouncing leg, running a thumb back and forth constantly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple every so often.

“I’m gonna go check something really quick, I’ll be right back. Ethan, stay with her okay?”

Ethan didn’t question it. He slid over to replace his brother for a moment as he headed up to the desk at the gate. Despite his bubbly charm, Ethan had a calmer nature to him than Grayson did, no matter how hard he tried to exude the same level headedness. It came effortlessly to his twin it seemed.

“Gingerale helps calm me down on planes. Don’t know why but it does,” he mumbled, scooting a bit closer so his arm was pressed up along hers on the small bars between their seats.

He didn’t seem to need a response, and Indy was grateful. She leaned against him a bit more as a silent thank you that he seemed to accept, and they stayed that way until Grayson returned, switching out places again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder immediately.

“I upgraded us to first class.”

“What? Why!?” She spoke for the first time since the car, surprised that her voice still sounded stable.

“You’ll see. C’mon, we’re about to board. You still sure you want to do this?”

She couldn’t give him an answer, but she stood up anyways and held onto his arm as they scanned their tickets and moved down the jet bridge. He pressed kisses to her blonde hair, ducking down a few times to check on her as they made their way down and got settled into their seats, Ethan settling into the row beside her.

Indy kept her lip tucked underneath her top teeth, looking around at anything to distract her from where she was as her mind raced, so fast she couldn’t even pinpoint what was making her the most anxious.

“Focus on me. I’m right here,” Grayson hummed, reaching over to turn her face towards his for a moment. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in her voice. She felt like she was going to cry, and she tucked her hood up over her ears, trying to drown out anything that sounded remotely like an airplane. Her lungs weren’t working how she wanted them to, and she sucked in breath after breath, none of them deep enough to relieve the tightness in her chest.

“Here. Try this.”

Long fingers tucked into her hood, moving her hair back from her ear so he could slip one of his headphones in. It fit snugly, and he scrambled to his phone, pulling up his Cudi playlist and scrolling through until he found what he wanted. The familiar intro of Teleport 2 Me, Jamie started to play as the final passengers boarded onto the rather large plane. How had everyone gotten on so fast? It seemed her mind was running away from her, making time move faster, bringing on the inevitable.

“This song makes me think about you, you know. I know Jamie is your middle name but still.”

She barely registered his words as a few tears snuck out of the corner of her eyes. Even her lips were shaking as she tried to breathe, curling in on herself with her knees pulled to her chest. The flight attendant was nice enough to not ask to see her seatbelt, sensing that she was better left undisturbed.

The guilt started to eat Grayson alive as he watched her struggle, running a hand over her back and leaning over to hold onto her, looking to his brother for support. Ethan’s eyes were wide with concern but he was just as helpless, not even being able to reach a comforting hand across the aisle because of the flight attendants passing by. It only got worse as they began to move - Grayson couldn’t tell if she was shaking harder or if it was just the movement of the plane.

The only good sign he got was her reaching her hand out in search of his. When he laced his fingers with hers she squeezed so hard he knew his bones were moving in a way they weren’t meant to, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not when he was the cause of her being in so much distress. It put a pit in his stomach, a mixture of the urge to apologize over and over and the wish that he could somehow climb inside her mind and soothe her, make her believe that she would be alright.

So, he did the next best thing he could think of. As soon as they had taken off, which felt like it took hours, he reached to her waist and unclipped her seatbelt.

“Come here.”

It took a moment for her to process, but once she understood Indy didn’t hesitate to climb over into his lap, curling up so small that she fit comfortably there in the wide first class seat, head tucked into the nook of his neck as he wrapped her up in his arms.

“You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” she squeaked. If anyone else in first class heard it, they elected to ignore it. “It’s not usually this bad.”

“Shhhh, don’t. Just close your eyes. We’ll be there before you know it, okay?”

She reached a hand up to his neck, tucking it in against his skin under his sweatshirt as an anchor before she closed her eyes. She wrestled with her mind, trying to override with a focus on what she was physically feeling - his warm skin under her fingertips, the roughness of his beard against her forehead, the change of the song in her headphone. Her other ear was pressed against his chest and she tried to listen for his heartbeat, getting sidetracked when his hand moved her hoodie up barely so he could get underneath to her skin. One finger began to trace.

I-M-S-O-R-R-Y

She shook her head, tilting up to press her nose against him. It was her that should be apologizing, she thought. She hadn’t warned him properly of what to expect. That being said, it was true that she hadn’t had such a bad experience in a while - it only clicked then that it probably had to do with the fact that Grayson was on the plane too. If it crashed and she died, so would he, and the thought of it made her want to hurl. Instead, she clung to him tighter, forming letters by his collarbone with her fingertip.

N-O-T-Y-O-U-R-F-A-U-L-T

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment before he shifted and rested his cheek on top of her head.

S-T-I-L-L-S-O-R-R-Y

She nuzzled closer to him.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

Against her hip, she felt four gentle squeezes, a silent I love you too as they continued through the sky.

--------------------------

“Jesus. It’s hot. Like, hot hot.”

“Ethan. It’s Cali. Of course it’s fucking hot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not natural for it to be this hot in fucking October. Anywhere.”

Indy listened to their bickering quietly, catching her breath a little more with each mile she put between her and the airport. It was just her leg bouncing now as she sipped on her gingerale - it had appeared on her tray table at some point in the flight and she hadn’t been able to stomach it until she made it out of the airport and into Ethan’s tesla, which was driven by Adele, a sweet woman with a kind smile and soft voice.

Grayson sat in the backseat with her, still on alert for any sign that she was anxious, hand resting on her thigh. But he breathed easier as he watched her body finally begin to accept that she was on the ground, and by the time they pulled up to the gate she was almost back to her normal self.

She enjoyed the feeling of her feet on the hard concrete of the driveway when she got out of the car, feeling a bit like a celebrity when the door swung open over her head. Grayson grabbed the bags and was immediately at her side, taking her hand and leading her up to the door. It wasn’t the first time that Indy had seen the inside of the house - she’d gotten glimpses of it on a few vlogs that they’d watched with Bekah one night. But there was a warmth to the space that didn’t quite read on camera, a familiarity that she realized was traces of Grayson everywhere, from the Cudi vinyls on the shelf to the wood based furniture that he’d definitely had a hand in making.

“I’m going to get Eden, I’ll be back in… I don’t know how long,” Ethan winked, immediately grabbing his keys and heading back out to the still warm Tesla, leaving his bag off the side of the kitchen.

“You up for a tour?”

If she was honest, her body was entirely exhausted, and her mind wasn’t far behind. But she perked up for his sake and nodded, taking his hand as he started to guide her through the house. He stopped in each room, showing off little details he’d helped pick out, from the colorful couch in the sunken room off the kitchen to the floating desk in Ethan’s room that he’d helped him install. The podcast studio was the most eclectic of any of them, with a massive wooden table that almost seemed carved around the blue light in the middle - not to mention the hot pink wall of the entrance, which was cut off by a wild jungle wallpaper wall that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Grayson spoke a mile a minute, explaining every step, every change they had made to the house since they’d bought it. Indy’s mind struggled to keep up, to visualize what he was saying, describing rooms she’d never seen.

“Ethan got the master this time around, so my room is a little smaller, but it’s cooler anyways.”

He guided her into a dark room on the right side of the hallway. It was somehow calmer than the rest of the house, and it practically zapped the rest of the energy out of her as soon as she passed the threshold. He showed her the green bathroom, the fancy toilet he’d picked out, his massive and meticulously organized closet. But when she flopped down onto the bed, she knew she was done for.

Grayson smiled when she hummed against the comforter - the first true sign of relaxation she’d shown since he’d picked her up from campus that morning.

“You tired bubs?”

“No,” she lied.

“You wanna take a nap?”

“No.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I’m resting, I just need like… 30 seconds.”

“You can sleep.”

“You were gonna show me the backyard though.”

She felt the bed dip down slightly, and then his lips were on her temple.

“The backyard will be there when you wake up. Besides, I need to get some work done anyways, and you’ve had a shitshow of a morning. Sleep, and maybe we can go get dinner with E squared later if you’re up for it, and I’ll take you to the beach.”

“E squared?” She muttered, only half motivated to stay awake for the answer.

“Ethan and Eden. They’ll be back over in a few hours I’m sure, he’s saving us from having to listen to their reunion fuck through the walls.”

“How considerate.” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, and it made Grayson smile. He moved to his closet, opening the extra drawer he used to store his blankets and pulling one out for her.

She vaguely felt the weight of the fabric being laid over her, and a gentle hum that sounded like ‘I love you’ before her body finally gave in and succumbed to sleep.

As soon as he knew she was out, Grayson got to work on all the things that he’d neglected in the last month. He made quick work of a full email inbox, a few calls that he stepped out of the room for, a Wakeheart campaign approval that he forwarded to Ethan - something about being back in LA lit the fire under him that always seemed to simmer out in the cool Jersey air. It took less thought, less intention to go into his kitchen, use his preset on the coffee machine with his favorite mug under it. Jersey was home, but LA was home, and he never realized how much he loved it until he was away for a while. His phone buzzed, loud against the counter - a text from Ethan running across his screensaver of the only picture he’d taken with Indy so far. He made a mental note to take more over the next few days before he opened the message.

Be there in 10, make sure everyone has pants on

He liked the message and stood up slowly, closing his laptop before heading back towards his room. He paused in the doorway, unable to help himself as he looked in.

Indiana was sprawled out across his bed, one of her legs escaping from under the covers. The pillow was tucked under her head, held by one arm while the other reached out to the empty side of the bed, hand splayed out on the fabric. With his phone already in his hand he couldn’t help but to snap a quick picture of her, a sweet memory that he knew he’d want to keep. He felt a little guilty having to wake her up from what seemed like such a peaceful nap, but he also knew she’d be made if he didn’t give her a chance to freshen up before Eden got there. So he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, rubbing along her back until her eyes blinked opened.

“Time to get up sleepyhead,” he teased, keeping his hand on her hip as she rolled over and stretched out in the most adorable way.

“Hmmmm, c’mere,” she grinned, reaching up for him and pulling his lips down to hers. The little cat nap seemed to be the recovery her body needed, a reset that allowed her mind to focus on other things, like how good Grayson looked in the fresh t-shirt that he’d changed into while she was out. He indulged her, moving a knee onto the bed so he could get above her and get behind the kiss.

“Ethan’s gonna be here in 10,” he murmured, but his lips still moved against hers, his relief palpable that she seemed to be doing better.

“Then we have 9.”

“Eden’s coming too.”

She pulled back with wide eyes, and before he could say another word she was rolling out from underneath him. It took her two whole rolls to get to the other side of the bed, which was almost as endearing to Grayson as the way she scurried to her bag in the closet, immediately pulling out clothes like her life depended on it.

“Baby, it’s just Eden.”

“No, it’s Ethan’s girlfriend Eden. Which means she’s not just Eden, it means she’s very important.”

“Important? You act like this is a job interview or something.”

“It’s a girlfriend interview, which is worse.”

“A what?” He struggled to stay focused on her answer as she pulled her leggings off and wiggled into a pair of high waisted black jean shorts as she spoke.

“When you have a woman in your life, a good woman, who isn’t your girlfriend, they go into protective mode. It’s a maternal thing I think, but it doesn’t matter who it is, they keep an eye out for you. And the biggest threat that those women can see for their guy friend is a new girlfriend. It doesn’t mean she’s gonna hate me, but she’s definitely gonna want to vet me at the least. And I bet it’s worse because I’ll be around Ethan so much so she’ll want to be extra careful. Plus, she doesn’t know me from adam, and...hey. Hey. Are you listening to me?”

At some point in the middle of her explanation she’d taken her shirt off, and Grayson’s mind had gone a bit fuzzy at the sight of her bra - dark purple, with a peek of lace under the cups.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Eden’s nice though, she’s sweet, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

She turned to him with a frustrated frown that he kissed away when he closed the distance between them, hands moving to hold her bare hips. Her skin was soft and still had a trace of warmth from sleep, and it made him hold on and rub his thumbs against her for a moment, trying to process that she was actually there with him.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, and besides, her opinion of you isn’t going to change my opinion of you.” He kissed her forehead quickly and let go so she could get ready. She pulled a tank top on and headed into the bathroom, freshening up until the moment that she heard the front door open, signally Ethan and Eden’s arrival.

“Do I look okay?”

“Perfect as always,” he beamed, taking her hand and leading her back out towards the kitchen.

“Grayson!”

Eden came running around the island and barrelled into Grayson like she hadn’t seen him in years. He caught her with a smile, a laugh and a ‘hey evil’, an inside joke that Indy wasn’t let in on. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because she was immediately wrapped up in tan arms, her vision obscured by a curtain of wavy black hair.

“Hi! I’m Eden, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Indiana, nice to meet you too!”

The hug was as awkward as any first hug she’d ever had, but the smile on the boy’s faces made it worth it when Indy pulled back. Ethan was glowing in the way you only glow after you get laid for the first time in a long time, and he’d apparently worked up an appetite, because they didn’t spend more than five minutes in the house before they were headed out to Monty’s. Indy still tried to open the Tesla door like a normal one, barely stepping back in time when it lifted up above her head. To her surprise, Eden jumped into the backseat beside her, forcing Grayson up to the passenger seat next to Ethan.

“So, you’re in school right? To be a nurse?”

“A doctor actually, but yeah, I graduate in a little over a month with my Bachelor’s,” Indy explained, preparing herself for the questions she was sure to get, being careful to be truthful in her answers without accidentally saying something that would make Eden hate her. Ethan’s girlfriend had a sweet face, peppered in freckles that almost looked faded in her warm toned skin. Her eyes sat large on her face, making her look a bit like a doe. But her outfit told a different story - everything about it spoke confidence and bad bitch energy in a way that Indiana was only used to seeing on LA model’s instagrams. It hit her quickly that it was very much possible that Eden might actually be an LA model, and the thought made her mouth run dry.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer.”

“Oh really? That’s amazing! What kind of work do you do?”

Eden launched into her career, from how she got there to what major brands she’d worked for - some of which shocked Indy. Grayson reached back behind his seat a few minutes into the drive, holding onto her leg and running his thumb along her skin as he balanced listening to his brother and listening to the girls. The energy settled in the cab, and Indy breathed out a sigh of relief at the realization that, for now at least, she’d passed the test.

It didn’t stop the questions though. A constant stream of information grabs, from her favorite things about New York to her family. Grayson squeezed tight when Eden mentioned her mom, throwing Ethan an unjustified look of annoyance. Indiana didn’t mind, though she didn’t love the look of pity that came over Eden’s face when she let her know that she had passed. But it moved on quickly, on to questions of her apartment, her college, her friends.

The only pause came when the Tesla rolled to a stop outside of Monty’s, which was packed with a long line outside. Eden let out a small sigh, reaching down for her purse.

“Usual, guys?”

They both nodded, a bit of unspoken tension growing in the air.

“Indiana, you wanna come with? The boys can just circle around.”

“I uh… yeah, yeah sure.” Indy went along with it, stepping out of the car quickly, trying to look back at Grayson through the window for some explanation, but they were so tinted that she couldn’t even guess what his facial expression was. Eden linked their arms quickly, leading her down the sidewalk and to the back of the line as if nothing had happened. Indy watched Ethan pull away quickly, and swore she could see a very concerned Grayson through the windshield.

“It makes it easier if they don’t have to get out. Too many people, and with a line this long the paps would show up.”

Two brunette girls in front of them turned around, interest piqued.

“Paps? For who?”

“No one, mind your damn business,” Eden said, waiting until they turned around to melt back into her usual friendly demeanor.

“I didn’t even think about that. About like, getting recognized I guess. But it happened in New York for the first time this morning, on campus.”

“LA is the worst for it. People see you take a picture with someone and then ask for one even if they don’t know who they are. Well, most people our age know who they are actually, but still. It’s not as bad in other places, just the occasional person. Et-” she cut herself off, knowing the girls were still eavesdropping. “He loves meeting fans but it gets to be a lot sometimes. So I try to help him out when I can. They’ll never ask for it, but they never turn it down either.”

Indy swallowed hard. She said it so casually, as if it was totally normal for the two of them to be standing there while their boyfriends drove around just so they didn’t get mobbed. She felt like a million pairs of eyes were on her as they inched forward in line every few moments. Eden just looked at her nails, picking at her cuticles.

“Does it ever get… normal? Them being recognized?”

“You learn to ignore it. And they don’t go out as much as you think. We’ll go out to show you around because you’ve never been here, but most of the time they’re home bodies. They kinda had to be, coming out here so young.”

“I can’t imagine coming out here at 15,” Indy mumbled, shaking her head.

“They’ve been through a lot. But then again so have you. So has everyone, at the end of the day.”

She was taken aback by the sudden depth of the conversation, but it didn’t last long, because soon they were close enough to the menu that Indy was asking questions. The Tesla circled again while they waited on the food, which came in little brown boxes stuffed into a bag. The girls waited on the curb for Ethan to pull back around, climbing in as inconspicuously as they could, getting settled into the backseat again.

“Got the goods?”

“You know it,” she grinned. Grayson reached back for Indiana again - he’d missed her in the few minutes that they were gone, and he didn’t realize he’d been anxious until it faded when she was back with him.

“We’re going to the secret beach, it’ll be like 10 minutes, so don’t eat all my fries.”

“I bought us all an extra to share.”

“Atta’ girl,” Ethan said, pressing on the gas a bit harder.

The secret beach, it turned out, was just a less populated one. But it was peaceful, washed pink by the beginnings of a sunset over the ocean. Grayson couldn’t tell if he was more overwhelmed by the colors in the sky or the feeling of finally having his own girl with him, someone’s hand to hold as he moved down the sand beside his brother and Eden. It had been almost a year of him being a third wheel, and he couldn’t stop looking over at Indy, his girl, who was there with him.

Her eyes were on the ocean. Sure, she’d seen the atlantic ocean plenty of times, but the pacific was different. It seemed bigger somehow, bluer, and it took her breath away. Food forgotten, she tugged on Grayson’s hand, only pausing to kick off her shoes before she was running down towards the water, laughing when the froth of the waves tickled her toes. Grayson’s shoes were soaked, but he didn’t care as he followed her down the coastline, laughing and yelling, picking her up around the waist and spinning her around, stopping to kiss her hard as the waves crashed. Ethan took a video on Grayson’s phone, a proud smile on his face as he watched his brother light up. Eden rested her head on his shoulder, remembering the days where that was the two of them, when everything was brand new and on fire.

The duo’s burgers were cold by the time they made it back up the beach, and Ethan had already started in on Grayson’s fries, much to his dismay. But they settled in the sand and ate their food, falling back into the group conversation between bites and swallows.

“So, you’ve been in LA for what, 5 hours now? Are you sold yet?” Ethan picked up another fry from the extra container, dropping it into his mouth.

“It’s gonna take a lot more to sell me on anywhere this far west,” she laughed, crumpling up the paper that her burger was wrapped in and tossing it into the box.

“Has Grayson made you a Jersey girl already?” Eden teased.

“It’s grown on me for sure, but nowhere compares to New York.”

Grayson chewed his last fry a bit slower.

“Yeah? Ethan took me into the city once when we were visiting Jersey but I don’t know much about it if I’m honest. I grew up in Texas.”

“The city is special once you get to know it. There’s so many different people, different cultures, new places to go. And it’s got all the best hospitals, which just makes me work harder because I want to work in one some day. Plus it uh… it’s just always been home to me. I can’t imagine living anywhere else really.”

Grayson’s stomach tightened, suddenly very full of food and smaller than when he’d started eating. They’d never really discussed living situations. He racked his brain, tried to remember if he ever mentioned that he was only staying in Jersey until the tiny homes were done. Surely she realized that he was going to come back to LA. He couldn’t tell if he’d subconsciously thought that she would want to move with him, or if he just assumed that they would handle the distance. But his mind was instantly filled with the image of Indy curled in on herself in a first class seat, and he resisted the urge to get up and walk it off as the guilt returned. The sun seemed to set faster, turning the beach indigo as everyone got up and headed back for the car.

Ethan took an extra moment to fold up the picnic blanket they’d brought, letting the girls get just out of earshot.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t go all doomsday on this shit and shoot yourself in the foot. Cross the distance bridge when you get to it. You all haven’t been together a month yet, if you start talking moving across the country she’s gonna freak. Give it time.”

Most of the time, Grayson despised Ethan’s big brother persona - 20 minutes wasn’t a flex when it came to maturity in his book. But in certain moments, he was grateful for his level head. It helped him breathe a little easier as he headed back to the car, happy to see that Eden had shifted to the front seat. He took the back, a bit annoyed at the space between their seats - another perk of his Porsche, no doubt. But he settled for resting a hand on Indy’s thigh and leaning over for the occasional kiss as they found their way home.

Each couple bid their goodnights despite the early hour, a silent understanding of the do not disturb courtesy to be followed. Indy and Gray bumped hips as they brushed their teeth in the same sink, toothpaste filled smiles shining at each other in the mirror. They fell into each other like they’d done it a million times, even though they could still count on two hands the amount of times they’d had each other like this. It didn’t matter that they were in a new place. Grayson felt the same above her, beside her, behind her as they worked each other up and eased each other down. Their voices echoed off the walls the same, the attempt to stay quiet still there as they tried to give the other couple the same respect that they were no doubt trying to give them.

The travel caught up with Indy first - she was much less versed in time changes after all, and she fell asleep right after her quick shower, curled up in Grayson’s arms, his nose full of her vanilla shampoo and his mind racing, running laps around two words. New York.

He felt like he heard more about the city in his next few days than he did when he was actually there. They facetimed Bekah the next morning, glad to see that she’d made it out of surgery successfully, and that all was smooth sailing so far. She was ecstatic that her two friends we’re getting a break, and she excitedly showed them the new view of the city she had since her recovery room was on the other side of the hospital.

Indy wore a New York sweatshirt that evening when they went back to the secret beach, and she fell asleep with it on on the couch at home, leaned back against Grayson’s chest. He carried her to bed and kissed her forehead, but his eyes focused on the letters, which seemed to be staring at him in the dark.

They ordered pizza for lunch the next day, after an anxiety filled morning of Eden and Indy in a follow car behind the two of them longboarding with their friends. Eden asked about what made NYC pizza so much better, and it seemed like Indy could have talked for hours about crust and sauce, seasoning and ratios.

By the third day, it was consuming his every thought, and despite Ethan’s advice to let it play out, he knew he had to talk to her, or at least try to.

Indy was none the wiser. The LA sun had warmed her skin and her mind, leaving little lines of its presence on both. By the second day the house felt less like a hotel and more like a home, and she understood why the boys loved it so much. Eden became more than an acquaintance; she was easy to love, and the interview seemed to have stopped for the most part. But a part of her still itched for her New York apartment, the bustle of the city, the familiarity of campus and Jets and the blocks that she walked down.

She thought she’d hidden it well, but she learned she was mistaken on the last night they spent in LA.

“You’re ready to leave, aren’t you?”

Indy perked up from where she had settled on his chest. It was routine now, for her to rest against him and trace patterns on his skin before they dozed off.

“Hmm?”

“You’re tracing N-Y-C on my chest. You want to go home.”

“Home sounds nice, the plane ride doesn’t though,” she laughed a bit. Laughing was good. Calm, and put together. “Guess it’s just my subconscious.”

Grayson sighed against her, running his fingers over her back as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t realize you were so attached.”

“To what?”

“To the city.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, it’s home.”

“Home can be multiple places. LA is home, Jersey is home, hell, even Australia is home for me in a way.”

Indy’s neck got tired from craning up at him, so she shifted up to sit with her legs criss cross as he lounged back against the pillows.

“Well, I’ve never really had to make anywhere else home. New York has everything I need I guess.”

“You’ve never wanted to try somewhere else?”

Indy sighed, finally understanding.

“Gray, baby, it’s not like I hate it here. I know it’s important to you, and it should be. I’m just saying that New York is… well, it’s New York. It’s important to me, it’s where I’ve planned out my future.”

He sat up further, propping up on his elbow, resting a hand on her knee.

“What does that mean though? ‘New York is New York’. I mean, it’s a cool city, I’ll give you that, but it’s not just that, right?”

It took a moment for Indy to find her words. She’d never really tried to explain it to anyone, but if anyone would get it, it was him.

“It’s my mom.”

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he opened his mouth, but she kept talking before he could.

“I know she’s not there. She’s wherever she is, I guess. But she breathed New York Grayson. That’s the last place that I knew her while she was still her, and the last place that she knew me. My memories of her live in that city, and when I’m not there I feel like I’m even farther away from her. And I already feel like I’m forgetting little things, because it’s been 4 years now, and I can’t even tell what I can’t remember, and it’s scary.”

Her breath caught in her throat a bit at the realization of what she was saying, what she was admitting. She’d never spoken any of it, not even to Charlie.

“Leaving would feel like moving on and leaving her behind, and I can’t do that. I can’t.”

Her face fell into her hands, and when Grayson’s arms moved around her and pulled her close, she let him.

He held her there until her tears stopped, rocking her barely back and forth until the wave had passed. He thought of Sean, of where he was, and what he would say. And he did his best to take on the heart of his father, to be like the man he so admired - selfless, and good, and strong for others no matter what it cost him. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he spoke.

“No one is asking you to leave. I promise, I’ll never ask you to leave. I promise.”

#SURPRISE HEHE #mixtape #wowza I did not expect to finish this tonight #well #~this morning~ i suppose #please let me know what you think!!!#love you guys!#grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Winter prompt fill 67 for sternclay? Doesn’t have to be a wedding I just love the 2nd half of this prompt. nsfw would be great

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW

67. you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you h e a r d

“She’s not coming.” Joseph whispers over his shoulder.

“Joe, for all we know she got hung up in a dress emergency or something?” Lily, the best woman and Joseph’s sister, squeezes his shoulder.

When the groom turns his blue eyes on Barclay, the groomsman does his best impression of someone who thinks things will be fine.

“It’s only been five minutes.”

“Her entire wedding party is here without her. And they look as confused as we do.”

Barclay spots a member of the event staff slip in a side door and hand a piece of paper to Indrid, their friend who’s acting as an usher.

“I, ah, have some bad news.” The pale-haired man joins them at the front of the church, “it seems the bride has had a serious change of mind and will not be joining us.”

Joseph grabs the paper, reading it over as the bridal party crowds around him. The upshot of all the commotion, and the arguing that follows the commotion, is that the bride has indeed called off the wedding and is en route to an airport.

As the family confirms she’s alright, Joseph picks up the microphone.

“Obviously this is a, um, unexpected turn of events. It’s safe to say no one is getting married today, but everything is still in order for the reception and we’re all dressed up so, um, if people want to stay and take advantage of that, you’re welcome to. You’re also welcome to leave if you want.”

Several groups break off towards the reception hall, and Barclay pulls Joseph aside.

“Joe, are you sure? I mean, yeah, we’re all here, but I don’t think anyone is gonna hold it against you if you want to send everyone home.”

“It’s important to be flexible.” Joseph replies blithely. Barclay knows his best friend hates when plans change and is unlikely to suddenly lose that piece of his personality at the same moment he lost his fiancee.

“Besides, I’d hate for that menu you helped us pick out to go to waste.” There it is, the Joseph Stern Professional smile ™, a sign that Barclay’s hunch is right.

“Screw the menu, man, I’m worried about you.” Barclay sets a hand on either of his shoulders. Joseph’s gaze snaps all the way onto him, and he knows he is losing this argument.

“It’s still my wedding, Barclay. That means I get to run it in whatever way I think best.”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” He steps back, brushes lint from his arm, “you go on ahead. I join you in a sec.”

Joseph nods, turning to stride though the room in his dark suit, while Barclay watches the love of his life walk away.

-------------------------------------

“Uh, hi, I’m Barclay. You must be Joseph?” Barclay stands in the door of the dorm room, his backpack in his arms.

“Yes. Um, nice to meet you.” The other guy stands, black hair and well-fitting X-Files shirt making him look like Agent Mulder on his day off.

“I didn’t choose a side yet, it seemed fair to wait until we were both here. I’m partial to the left but that’s more habit than anything else.”

“I’m cool with that. I, uh, I don’t have a ton of stuff to unpack so, uh if you need help let me know.”

“Thank you.” Joseph smiles, taking his face from cute to heart-stoppingly handsome, and Barclay decides he hit the roommate jackpot.

Barclay didn’t fall for Joe so much as cliffdive, throwing himself after the feeling he got whenever Joe laughed at a joke or told him a secret or talked for fifteen minutes about the methodology flaws in Ghost Hunters. Yes, Joe was hotter than convection oven and Barclay wanted to fuck him on the floor of every space they ever lived in, but more than that Barclay was so happy with him, and his friend felt the same way.

The problem was, Barclay had a shy streak and was far from the only person to see Joe as a catch. And so they dated other people, sometimes happily and sometimes not, but never each other. By the time Joe met Iris, Barclay’s unrequited love had been thrumming in him so long it was no more than background noise. So when Joe ran proposal ideas by him, announced the weddings, asked Barclay to stand up with him, Barclay felt genuine happiness for him and the woman he loved. There’s no rule that says one cannot feel joy and knife-in-the-gut sorrow at the same time.

He’s only gotten better with age he thinks as Joe works the room, fielding condolences with ease. Barclay helped him choose the suit, black with blue lines in the stitching, because it flattered but did not flaunt the well-maintained figure beneath. The last time Barclay saw him in just his underwear was when they lived together after college, and he fumbled his phone when he saw him at the beach last summer. He can picture it so clearly, what that body looks like under those clothes, and it makes him want to scream

“This whole day has been full of surprises.” Indrid sits down next to him, glass of soda in hand.

“Kinda figured you and Duck would head home.”

“Most of our friends are here, and the food looks good. Not to mention we’re both worried about-” Indrid nods towards Joseph.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I admire his holding it together but, like, what if Duck had left you at the altar?”

“I’d have turned into a hideous red-eyed monster and flapped screeching into the night.”

“......”

“That was a joke.” Indrid grins.

“Right. Man, hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“While this is an upsetting situation, there is a bright side; maybe now you will finally tell Joseph how you feel.”

A crash makes them both turn in their seats; Joseph is wiping his dropped (plastic) cup up with a nearby napkin, well within earshot.

“Indrid I swear if he heard-”

“Oh, I am certain he did.”

“Dude” Barclay hisses as Joseph steals an unreadable glance at him.

“For goodness sake, you two are a good pair. A pair you’ve been dreaming about for years. Tell him.” With that the other man stands, leaving Barclay alone with his thoughts. His thoughts are no help, so he joins Indrid, Duck, Aubrey, and Dani for some cake.

As the venue finally empties, he realizes he hasn’t seen Joe in an hour and panics until he finds him standing (swaying, really) in the staging room.

“You, hic, know, hic, this explains, hic, why she didn’t want to move until hic, after the wedding.”

“Seems like it’s for the best, going home to a place where all her stuff is would fucking suck.” Barclay puts an arm around him only for the shorter man to slump most of his weight into his chest.

“The hotel’s paid for, and I have a week hic of vacation and a packed car.”

“You’re not driving anywhere. I can and will lock you in a closet if you try.”

“Or you could, hic, come with me.”

“On your honeymoon?” Thank god Joe is too drunk to notice his voice creeping up.

“On my it’s this or be miserable t home trip. Please, Barclay? We can hic, swing by your place to get your stuff.”

Barclay says yes. Purely to help a friend in need and not because of how said friend feels pressed up against him.

They’re an hour out of the city when Joseph fumbles with his phone, “Change of plans, were going here instead of the hotel?”

“I thought the whole point was the hotel was paid for?”

“It is, by her family, so fuck it. I’ve always wanted to go here and it’s the kind of place she’d never let us stay.”

They take the next exit and find the highway North rather than East. By the time they reach the massive pink building with an airplane in the field out front, snow is falling and Joe is half-asleep, mumbling “okay” when Barclay says he’ll go get them a room. The clerk welcomes him, shows him a list of available rooms, and he notices a high number of them have heart-shaped bed, “tubs for two,” and the word “fantasy” in the name.

Just as he’s wondering what the fuck Joe’s gotten them into, he spots the perfect room at the bottom of the list.

“Got a surprise for you.” He helps Joe from the car and unlocks the door. His friend takes in the silver and green decor, the posters, and the UFO-shaped bed.

“This is the exact one I was hoping for.”

“I know, you giant nerd.”

“Be nice, big guy, or you’re sleeping on the couch.” Joe stumbles to the bed and starts stripping, at which point Barclay zips back outside to get their bags. By the time he’s back, Joe is under the covers and out cold. The king bed does look comfy…

Barclay sleeps on the couch.

-------------------------------------------------

Joe remains dead to the world until almost noon the next day, so Barclay works on his cookbook edits and sends yet another thank-you email to Mama for letting him take his vacation with such little notice. He grabs breakfast, including a sandwich for when Joe wakes up and some aspirin to go with his coffee.

“I hate myself.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Joe rolls over, dragging the pillow atop his head, “I didn’t mean to get so drunk, it’s just the only way I could get through all those conversations yesterday was to take a drink every time I felt like crumbling.”

Barclay sits on the bed, petting his head, “It’s okay, man, getting me to drive you to a weird sex hotel is not the worst thing you’ve done drunk.”

“I threw up in a mixer one time.”

“And I’ll never forgive you for it.” He laughs when Joe whacks him with a pillow. In the silence that follows, he remembers Indrid’s comment, and wonders if Joe does too.

“...Is this really a sex hotel? I just thought it was kitsch aimed at couples”

“Go look at the tub.”

Joe groans, stepping out of bed in just his--god help him--silk boxer briefs. They must have been under the suit.

“Are these...they are, there are handcuffs hanging by the tub. Well, weird as that is, I’m taking a bath.”

The day goes in an oddly non-awkward direction after that. They’ve lived together often enough that getting dressed and clean in close quarters is nothing new. Joe votes for hiding from the world bit longer, so they settle in on the very squishy bed and watch a silver plated T.V, Joe laughing whenever Barclay yells at cooking shows they way other people yell at football games.

He still sleeps on the couch that night.

The next day Joe is up bright and early, suggesting they drive to a nearby tourist trap, using his phone to pick out a breakfast place that serves Barclays favorite local coffee blend. They follow that same process the next two days; find some strange roadside attraction or nearby bookstore, eat, and return back to the motel to lay side by side on the bed and to read or watch T.V.

It’s as they’re wandering around a strange, knock-off Carhenge that Joe sighs, “I sort of saw it coming, you know? Iris leaving. I proposed because I cared about her, but she was the one who brought it up, and every time we were visiting her family or she got off the phone with them, she’d bring it up more forcefully. I think she was under more pressure to settle down than I grasped. If our places were switched, I might have run too. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to marry me.”

Barclay crunches to a stop in the snow “Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m exactly the kind of guy you’d want to bring home to your family but not spend your life with. My job has weird hours and travel, my non-work clothes have cryptids on them, I can be too particular, and I’m not that exciting for someone whose job is special agent-”

“No, fuck that, you’re a catch.”

“You’re just used to me, big guy. Your objectivity is in question.”

“Yeah, well, you’re even more used to you, so I’m really the more objective one here.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Joe stares at his footprints, then elbows the cook, “come on, lets go get lunch.”

Barclay is still full and happy, having warmed up via a soak in the tub (where he thought of four different ways to use the cuffs and then had to calm down his cock enough to get out), when he comes into the main room and finds Joe staring at his phone.

“Oh shit, did she get in touch?”

“Yes. Iris, um, is on a cruise ship. As a yoga instructor. She says it’s something she’s dreamed of for years, that she’s sorry for hurting me, but that marrying me would have been a step in a life she did not want to lead. So. That’s that.” He puts the phone face down, cards his fingers through his hair, “Lord almighty I wish she’d just said no when I asked.”

“Me too.” Barclay imagines a different past, where Joe asked him instead, where he said yes because it’s what he’s been dreaming of since he was twenty-two. Where Joe is sitting in front of him, not sad-eyed and tired, but happy as can be.

---------------------------------------------

This hangover is somehow worse than the one the morning after his non-wedding. Then again, he drank more in a shorter period, hoping to drown out the memory of the words on the screen.

Or the words he overheard at the reception.

“Tell him how you really feel”

He’s had his suspicions about Barclay from time to time, most frequently when they were younger and he felt those deep brown eyes on his ass every time he turned around. But Barclay never took a chance; there were times after break-ups when Joe is certain anyone who was interested would have taken advantage of him being vulnerable and available, but instead Barclay cheered him up, the same way Joe did when Barclay’s relationships ended. Stern concluded neither of them wanted more.

He would have taken more in an instant. His love for Barclay walked the line between romantic and platonic, and he would have crossed it the moment Barclay asked him to.

Now, he’s bathing with his eyes shut because any light is murder on his skull, his best friend waking up on the couch where he’s insisted on staying because clearly Joe’s lost his appeal. Who’d want to sleep with someone who got roaring drunk and needed babysitting?

He pops aspirin, drinks water, and lays down with his sleep mask over his eyes. Barclay moves around the room, talking softly in that gentle baritone that, not for the first time, makes Stern wonder what he sounds like when he cums.

“You want me to run and grab breakfast?”

“No, I can get it for both of us. Lord knows you’ve done enough for me this week.”

“You gonna go downstairs blindfolded?”

“For you, I’ll risk a headache OW, owow.” His back locks up just as he tries to sit upright.

The bed sags, “Holy shit man, you’ve got a huge knot right here.”

“My back always does that when I’m stressed, it’ll be fine.”

“Nuhuh, lay down and let me see if I can get it out.” Barclay nudges him onto his stomach and he flops willingly, mask still on.

“You don’t need to Ohhhhhhhhhnnn, I forget about those bakers hands.”

“Gonna knead you like dough, babe.”

Stern blushes at the name; he was always a little jealous when his friend called his boyfriends that.

When thumbs pass below his shoulder-blades he moans, arches at the second of pain, “That’s it, that’s the epicenter.”

He can’t stop sighing as Barclay runs his hands over him, can’t stop wiggling his hips at every burst of relief. He pushes his ass up without meaning too, and a bitten-back whine reaches him.

Fuck it. Even if he’s about to make a huge mistake, he wont have to look Barclay in the eyes.

“What did Indrid mean? At the reception.”

“Uh.” Barclay’s hands still, “uh. That I was worried about you.”

“Try again.” He grinds his ass back deliberately.

“Joe, please, I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here. You’re underneath me shirtless and I am not gonna do this a dumb way.”

“Do what?”

“Tell you that, that I, no nope, I’m gonna do this back home, at the Lodge or something, make you dinner first and be all romantic so that you don’t think I’m talking with my dick when I say I love you.”

Barclay’s whole body tenses. Joe flips onto his back, regrets the sudden movement, and lifts his sleep mask. He takes one of his frozen hands from the air.

“I love you too.”

“Really?” Barclay sounds like a teenager whose crush just said yes to prom.

“Really. And I don’t think it’s just your dick talking. Although if you wanted to bring it into the equation I wouldn’t mind.” He sends a pointed stare at the half-hard shape under worn denim.

Barclay’s breathing is picking up, his posture trapped between movements.

“Do you, um, do you want to kiss?”

His friend drops down in reply, smashing their lips together and parting his own imploringly until Stern slips his tongue between them. His big hands cup Stern’s face and his hips grind like he thinks his parents will be home any minute.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, Joe, ohgod, babe, please, please let me be good to you” the kisses on his face and neck are messy and the sweetest sensation he’s ever felt.

“Barclay, you’ve always been good to me.”

“I meant this” he drags their dicks together, “kind of good.”

“Ohlord, yes okay, good point. Get your clothes off and bring me the purple bag that’s in my suitcase.”

Barclay grabs the bag, upends it and sends several sex toys, his strap-on underwear, and lots of condoms onto the bed, undresses as Stern sets one of the toys into the harness.

“I need to put this back on.” He lowers the mask and hears a soft whine.

“I like seeing your eyes.”

“You’ll see them plenty, big guy, I promise. Now, open yourself up, please.”

“Oh hell yes.” A rip of foil, a pop of lube, and then Barclay straddles him, grunting delightfully.

“Tell me when you get to three, that should be enough for this toy.”

Pre-cum drips just above the waistband of the underwear, and he gets a thrill remembering the few times he’d caught an accidental glimpse of Barclay’s dick. It’s big, that much he knows, and he’s going to have a lot of fun with it once he’s done reducing the man above him to tears.

“T-three, babe.”

“Get my dick wet and then get to it.”

When he gets the gasp that tells him the toy is in, he smile and reaches to the underside of the base, “Remember that new dick I was excited about?”

“The vibrating one? OHFUCK, fuckyeahbabe” Barclay jerks and moans, his movements erratic even as he sinks all the way down. Stern echoes him, the pressure of the other man’s body makes the vibrations hit all the right spots.

“Here’s how this is going to work, big guy; I’m going to get off while I fuck you, and if you can hold off on coming until I’m done, I’ll let you fuck me.”

“God yeah, Joe, fuck me, please.”

He thrusts up and there’s a thud of Barclay’s hands hitting the headboard. The movement is rough on his stomach but he doesn’t care, grabs hold of thick thighs and fucks him, the other man working his hips in an attempt at rhythm.

The mask catches on a pillow, letting him see Barclay from the neck down. Lord, he looks good like this, big (Stern’s always loved how big he is), letting out the most appealing grunts and growls, dark hair covering most of his softly muscled body…

Wait a minute.

He claps a hand over his mouth, laughing.

“Whats, aAAhnnn, what’s so funny babe?”

“Remember when you found that Sasquatch dildo and bigfoot romance novel in my stuff?”

“Hard to forget.”

“I just discovered the source of the fantasy.”

“Are, are you saying I look like bigfoot when I fuck?” Barclay is shaking with laughter.

“Kind of?”

“I’m putting that on a sign in my den.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late AHHhhnnnfuck, fuck, baby, pleasepleaseplease say you’re close.”

“Why? In a hurry to fuck me?”

“After ten fucking years? Yes.”

He focuses on rubbing off on the toy, holding Barclay in place to keep it at the right angle, orgasm building sudden and swift when he works his hips just right and Barclay starts whimpering.

“Shit” he bites out as it ripples through him, aftershocks jerking his hips and making them both groan.

Barclay climbs off and he wiggles the underwear off and kicks them off the bed.

“Okay, big guy, now you can fuck meSHIT, lordalmighty you feel good.”

“Fucking knew it would, knew you were fucking made for me Joe, fuck you’re incredible.” The hand that’s not balancing him on the mattress is shoving Sterns left out and up so he can drive deeper, shaking the walls on each thrust. Stern wonders if there’s a way recreate ten years of pent up desire so that Barclay will fuck him with this same furious affection every night of his life.

He’s limp post-orgasm, happy to let Barclay manhandle him to his hearts content. When the other man sits up, dragging his hips into his lap, he moans louder than he had in years.

“That’s it babe, lemme hear how good it is, fuck, no one’s ever looked this good taking my dick, c’mon, take it all the way, take me all the way while I cum in you.”

“Ohlord.” his toes curl weakly as bucks into him faster and faster.

“Fucking years, years I’ve wanted cum in whatever hole you’d give me, now I’m gonna and you’re gonna feel it for weeks, fuck, babe, that’s it, ohhhnn Joe, Joe” there’s a final growl as Barclay holds his legs open, the last jolts of his orgasm making his fingers dig into his skin.

As he’s coming down and pulling out, Stern slips off the mask, blinking at the sight before him. Barclay, flushed and slick with sweat, staring at him like he’s a prize he’d never thought he’d see.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He winces at how childish it sounds. A week ago he had a fiancee, for gods sake.

“Yeah, hell yes, wait, Joe, you just got out of an engagement. You, you sure you don’t want some time alone or to, like, explore other options?”

Stern crawls over to him, beard scratching his palm when he turns his cheek, “Barclay, I’ve always been one step away from falling in love with you, and it turns out this was the step. I trust you, I get along better with you than anyone else, and apparently we work well in bed. If, um, if you don’t want this, if it’s too late, I understand. But if you want to be together, I want that too.”

Barclay blinks. Then he blinks again. And then he’s crying and Stern pulls him into the hug.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Joe, don’t apologize. I’m so fucking happy, I’ve wanted to hear this for so long it’s just” a shaky breath, “just didn’t expect it to hit so hard. I love you, Joseph, and nothing would make me happier than being your boyfriend.”

They stay like that for awhile, talking in confessions and professions of feelings. Then Joe kisses him, and pulls him towards the bathroom to clean up (and maybe use those cuffs) before heading out to lunch.

----------------------------------------

Indrid opens the message on his phone, smiles, and texts four words in reply.

I told you so

#Sternclay #agent stern/barclay #winter fills #pining #taz amnesty

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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 3

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 1,556

Warnings: Panic Attack, themes of depression and self-hatred. Later chapters will include violence and nsfw content.

A/N:

I'm gonna try and have a pretty regular posting schedule. From now on I'm going to try posting once a day, even of its just a headcannon, I wanna post once a day now. I'M GOING TO TRY AND POST ONE CHAPTER A WEEK. Especially for this series, I'm having a lot of fun with it but Tumblr doesn't seem to like it and refuses to post it to the hashtags. Sorry, I know this chapter is kinda short, but I feel like this series deserves a slow, intense, burn.

Don't forget, I have a Patreon, where you can join my discord, vote on new projects, and make requests! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Days passed.

It all felt like a strange blur. You wondered around the abandoned house the villains called their hideout for the time being. You spent hours watching the news that Shigaraki constantly played. Despite being the daughter of the Japan’s #1 hero, there wasn’t a single report of your disappearance. You were confused.

“They’re probably keeping the investigation quiet. Y’know, so we don’t see them coming.” Dabi told you one day as you sat on the old dusty couch and watched. You watched helplessly as the group came and went, always having someone stay behind to ‘babysit’ as Mr. Compress referred to it.

You were allowed to wander around the old abandoned building the villains called their hideout. At first, you thought it was a house but now you realized it was an old office building. The villains mostly stayed in a specific part where they were made comfortable. It appeared that only a certain part of the building had power. Everywhere else was dark and cold and uncomfortable.

“Yeesh, you stick!-Take a bath!” Twice shouted at you one day. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your hands under your arms.

“Speak for yourself! Not my fault you guys didn’t exactly grab me a change of clothes, or let me piss alone much less shower!” You shouted in frustration. It all seemed to dawn on them at once, maybe they hadn’t exactly thought this through all the way.

“Y’know what? You’re right! I’ll be right back!” Toga declared with a smile.

“Where are you going?” Shigaraki asked as he watched her head for the door.

“It’s a surprise!” She closed the door behind her and the room fell silent. Spinner soon approached only to recoil in disgust.

“Twice is right, you do stink.” He grunted.

“Thanks…” You grumbled.

“Here take this and go wash off.” He held out a raggedy towel. You were directed to a bathroom with a makeshift shower in it and told to wash off before the bathroom door closed. The water was horribly cold.

You stood under it and let the water wash over your naked body. Man, you really were dirty. The cold water soon became warmer and you lost yourself in the feeling of it. You closed your eyes and melted. Soon, the feeling of tears running down your cheeks mixed in with the sensation of your wet hair tickling the back of your neck. You crouched down and held your knees to your chest as you began to sob uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop it, the pain in your chest flowed out through your lips are you cried. You held yourself tight, your fingers digging into your legs. The pain was so intense, and your thoughts so muddied, you could see yourself sitting there, just crying. Objectively, you watched yourself and criticized.

This was all your fault, your mother and father are worried sick about you. All because you pushed yourself too hard and couldn’t fight back. You’re a mess. You deserve this. You’ll die here, they’ll kill you before you can see your parents again. You’re worthless. You can’t even protect yourself.

These thoughts only made the pain more intense, it made it worse. You sobs grew louder and louder and the pain grew and grew. It got to the point where you felt unable to control yourself. You began lashing out, hitting your own head, and scratching your legs. Then another thought emerged.

This wasn’t your fault. If it weren’t for him. If it weren’t for your father and his stupid fucking hero work, you’d be home right now. You’d be safe and sound and unbothered by this hero/villain mess. He didn’t even want you to come to Japan, so why were you here? He doesn’t even want you. And your mother, she’s the one that sent you. This was her idea. This was her fault too. Anger fed the pain in your chest and it ached. The attack on your mind and body ragged on, until you heard a knock on the door.

You felt unable to move, unable to stop. You cursed yourself again. They could hear you, couldn’t they? They could hear you crying. You expected someone to yell, but there wasn’t a voice. The door slowly opened and shut. The curtain was slowly drawn back and two eyes looked down at you. You shook violently as you looked up. Suddenly you became very aware that you were naked.

“Why are you crying?” Toga asked as she knelt down to get closer to you. You couldn’t respond. “What’s wrong? We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright. Look, I brought you some new clothes.” She reached out a hand and rubbed your naked back.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reassured, “you’re safe here, no one is going to hurt you. And if anyone does, you come to me, alright?”

“O-Okay.”

“Are you done washing off?” You shook your head no. “Okay well finish up and try these on. I think you’ll like it.” She set the new clothes on the bathroom counter before leaving you. You sniffled and struggled to stand, but you managed. You took deep breathes and tried to soothe yourself. You felt drained and empty now, if not a little bit better. You stepped out and looked at the clothes on the counter. They were soft and comfortable, how did she guess the right size of underwear but the wrong size shirt and pants? They were just a little big, they fit fine where it mattered, but just a little baggy everywhere else. Definitely not something you’d pick out for yourself, but it would do for now.

You brushed through your wet hair with your fingers and stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Your eyes were red and puffy, your face flushed. It made your heart race to know that everyone was well aware you were crying. You opened the door and everyone turned to look at you again. Oh god. Toga pulled herself away from what looked like a chat with Shigaraki.

“Damn! One size off! I knew it!” Toga shouted as she approached you to examine the clothes on you.

“They’re fine, really.” You mumbled to her as she pulled on the pants at the band.

“Are they comfortable at least?” She asked folding her arms over her chest.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Oh don’t mention it! Next time I’ll have to take you shopping with me!” She smiled. Next time? Take you? You stared blankly at her. She pulled you with her to sit on the couch and watch more of the news.

“You know. Now that I think about it. I don’t think he wants it out that I exist.” You thought out loud.

“What do you mean?” Toga asked. You turned to her with a blank face.

“Its always been a secret. I could never talk about my dad, even when I was little. Everyone assumed I just didn’t have a dad. Even when we came to visit when I was younger, no one knew I was his daughter. If the public asked, I was his niece. They always told me it was for my own safety. I get that now.” You chuckled to yourself. “But that’s probably why there’s no report on my disappearance. No one can know. I’m just a dirty little secret.”

“Xavier! Over here!”

Your mother called as she stood partially outside a taxi. Xavier, your “boyfriend” waved back to your mother as she dragged along his luggage.

“Ms. Y/L/N! I’m sorry I’m late! The flight was delayed, I came as soon as you called.” Xavier was a clean-cut, academic genius. He wore slacks and a button-up on a daily basis. He was incredibly smart with several degrees by his early twenties and already on his way to becoming a very successful lawyer. He was handsome, conventionally so. He was handsome, smart, thoughtful, and generous. He was everything your mother wanted for you.

But that was it, he was a gift from your mother you took reluctantly. She knew his father from work, it was all set up. You had been together for roughly a year now. You liked him enough to date to try and love even. He was nice and even fun at times. But you were lying every time you told him you loved him. You had been meaning to break it off for some time now, but you were unsure. You feared disappointing your mother, again. You were afraid to hurt him. You thought your trip to Japan would allow you to clear your mind and think about things before making a decision.

Your mother brought him back to your father. Who was far too busy worrying about you to really care to give Xavier the time of day. Xavier had a very specific quirk, one that came in handy in the legal field. He could tell whether or not someone was lying just by making eye contact with someone. He was now going to be a key player in getting you back. He, like your mother and father, was not going to rest until he had you back. You can be sure of that.

Taglist:

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

#mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #Tomura Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura x you #tomura shiragaki #Tomura Shigaraki x All Might!Daughter!Reader

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lucy-268 · 4 years

Text

A (Finally) Quiet Night at Home?

A/N - I received an anonymous request to use a prompt from this list. The prompt is: i hope you step on a lego.There has been a delay since I received the request until now, because I was writing First Day Back and wanted to do something else before I returned to the twins, because of course they are now old enough to play with LEGOs.

This also meets the August 1 prompt of “question” for the Choices August Challenge.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: Language

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 1,333

It was a simple question, wasn’t it? He had no idea why that seemed to be the turning point of his day. He thought he'd take his wife to dinner.

“I have an idea, why don’t we go out and get dinner tonight?” Ethan asked. “We can try that new Mexican restaurant in the West End. You’ve been wanting to go there.”

“In what universe is that a good idea?” Charley asked, tipping her head to the side.

Ethan looked around the kitchen. “It doesn’t look like you’ve started dinner yet, so I figured we could go out.”

“It’s a nice restaurant Ethan, and from what I’ve heard, it’s not exactly child-friendly. I’d have to get dressed. I’d have to shower. I haven’t done that for two days. I don’t think we can leave the kids here alone, with two of them being four years old. The other is less than two weeks.” She looked around the kitchen. “I don’t see this babysitter you brought home. And I will tell you right now, unless it’s someone I know very well, I’m not leaving Rachel with a sitter.” Charley jerked her head in the direction of the living room. “The other two? I’m not too concerned who would watch them. In fact, why don’t you go watch them and I’ll think about starting dinner.”

He was about to say something but the look on her face made him rethink that. He heard her muttering something under her breath and he was going to ask her to repeat it, but she had just picked up a chef’s knife and that seemed like a very bad idea. He headed to go find the twins.

“Were you two good for mommy today?” Ethan sat down on the living room floor with the two four-year-olds.

Jessica crawled into his lap and gave him a hug and a kiss. A very sticky hug and kiss. “Jessie-bear, why are you so sticky?”

“Mommy looked for something,” Jonah answered.

“What?” Ethan asked.

Jonah looked up at him. “Mommy looked for something,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first…”

“Then why’d you say ‘what’ if you heard?”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What was she looking for?” Ethan tried again.

“Mac-ron-eee,” Jessica declares.

“Macaroni?” Ethan asked.

Jessica looked at him like he was an idiot and vigorously nodded her head. “Mac-ron-eee.”

Ethan wondered if he should go help his wife. Then he remembered the glare in her eye as she picked up the knife. Maybe keeping the kids away from her was a better idea.

He looked around the living room at the toys and stuffed animals scattered around. “Let’s build something before dinner. Where are your LEGOs?”

The twins looked at each other before Jonah answered. “Mommy tooked-id them.”

Jessica stood up and reached for Ethan’s hand. She helpfully tried to pull him up, so he stood on his own. She led him over to the closet by the front door and waited as he opened it. By now Jonah had joined them and he pointed to a shelf. “There.”

‘There’ was the box that Charley’s brother Devin had given the twins on their fourth birthday last month. The LEGOs had quickly become their favorite toy. Ethan would regularly sit and build things with them after dinner. He wondered why Charley had put them up.

Just thinking about her seemed to bring her to the living room. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. I told them they could have them back when you got home from work tomorrow evening.” He looked over at her, and there was a challenge in her eyes.

He pushed the door closed. “Daddy!” Jessica whined as Jonah pleaded, “Please!”

The look in Charley’s eyes told him he wasn’t a complete idiot. He thought he would try a different question this time. “Have you started actually cooking anything yet?”

“There’s a lasagna in the freezer that Sienna sent over. I thought I’d get that out. I just turned on the oven to preheat.”

“New plan. We’ll save the lasagna for another night. You go check in Rachel and take a bath. I’ll go turn off the oven, then put these two in the tub and once they are in fresh pjs, I’ll order dinner. We can get Kung Pao chicken and beef and peppers from Cheng’s.”

“Don’t forget the spring rolls.” Charley turned to head up the stairs.

Within an hour everyone was bathed and in clean pajamas and Ethan was paying the delivery driver. They had decided to have a picnic on the living room floor.

Soon the remnants of dinner were scattered over the blanket. The twins were arguing about what movie they wanted to watch. Jessica really wanted to see Brave again. Jonah wanted to watch Hercules. Ethan leaned against the sofa and pulled his wife with him. He kissed the top of her head.

“It was a long day today. When you were leaving the kitchen and turned around what I had said was ‘I hope you step on a LEGO.’”

Ethan laughed. That seems relatively harmless.”

“You’ve obviously never stepped on one. I did, several times today.”

“Mommy said ‘fuck,’” Jessica told him.

“No, she sayed, ‘fuck, fuck, fucking Devin.’” Jonah clarified.

Ethan tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. “Is that why they are hidden in the closet?”

“It is not why,” Charley answered. “The LEGOs are in there because Toby came in here and ate one of them. While I was on the phone talking to the vet, they decided since the puppy ate one, maybe Jenner should too. And they fed him one.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything before Charley continued.

“The vet said we should bring the dogs in if they haven’t passed the toy in three days or if they get sick before then. That means for the next few days someone has to look through the dog poop and see if the LEGOs return.” She looked at him and he knew he was going to be the primary dog walker until this was resolved.

“After we start the movie, I’ll clean up this mess and talk the dogs for a walk. But first, I need to know why Jessica was so sticky.”

“Do you remember last fall when we drove up to Vermont? Do you recall what we brought back?”

“Judging by the timing, I’m pretty sure Rachel was something that came back with us.”

Charley laughed. “Fair point, but I was talking about the bottle of maple syrup we bought at the sugarhouse when we took a tour. I set it on the counter when I was looking for lunch for the kids and forgot to put it away. It fell and broke and Jessica reached it first and got it on her hands. Which, of course, then went to her mouth. I managed to wipe her hands and face before she got it on her clothes.”

The kids finally agreed to watch Tangled, based on Charley’s input. Ethan was gathering up the remnants of the picnic when Rachel began to cry. “I’ll get her.”

Charley stood. “I’ll get her; you take care of the dogs?”

Ethan was about to insist when she said, “I think she’s hungry and you’d have a difficult time with that.”

Soon, Charley was back on the sofa, snuggling Rachel when the dogs ran into the living room and plopped down next to the kids. Ethan soon came in and said they had partial success. “I found a red LEGO and half of a blue one. Toby just needs to get rid of the other half of the blue.” Ethan sat next to Charley and gathered his wife and new baby to him.

“Do you remember, during my intern year, I had you attached to the fMRI machine and I asked if you wanted kids?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Very much so. And I very glad now that I have them and that you’re their mother.”

@oofchoices @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @ohchoices @catchinglikekeronsene @aylamreads @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @queencarb @thegreentwin @lion-ess24 @choicesficwriterscreations @caseyvalentineramsey @choicesmonthlychallenge

#dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart #open heart fanfiction

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taxevader42069 · 4 years

Text

i’m not sure i will ever get over pegoryu. like, to me at least, it’s kind of obvious ryuji was meant to have a romance route, at least in the early stages of writing. like yosuke, the way his relationship builds with the main character is heavily implied to have something else to it. the only difference is that with ryuji, we have nothing. no scrapped confession lines, no solid proof that he was meant to be a dateable character in the game. but even just in tropes, they fit under a ton of japanese romance stereotypes. there’s a point in the anime where ryuji is handing sae’s treasure to akira, but for just a few moments, their hands linger on each other’s. ryuji knows the plan is to get arrested and have akiren fake his death, but he’s stated in the game that he was worried akira wouldn’t make it. i think the scene was meant to demonstrate that ryuji believed in akiren despite his rational fears, but they already did that with his mannerisms. he said he knew their leader would make it, but sounded unsure. he wasn’t ready to say goodbye in any way but he pretended to have confidence so their plan would work, but even so, the animation adds this detail without prompting. i understand that this is a strange detail to linger on for this long, but i’ve always thought of this scene when i think of pegoryu. if you ask me, this probably isnt the best point to say “ryuji would confess here!” because he absolutely wouldnt. he wants their leader to be able to focus, he wants him to be safe more than anything. what i do think, though, is that this is a huge turning point for ryuji’s thoughts. everything leading up to that hand hold was more likely a buildup towards ryuji accepting his feelings himself. again, like yosuke, ryuji delivers a few lines implying that he’s weirded out by gay men, or that he wouldn’t really even consider a relationship with a guy, so it would obviously be a while before this himbo of a man accepts his own feelings. but upon understanding what he felt, i don’t think he felt trapped or upset. i think he would promise himself that as soon as akiren got out alive, he would confess to him.

now, the moment akira comes back to leblanc, you’ll notice that everyone is waiting for him. however, the first person to run up to their leader is ryuji. not only does he become the first person to approach akira, he gives him a big ol hug while he’s there. he says that he missed him, and he seems extremely relieved/ happy to see akira again altogether. this can easily be read as platonic, although it’s extremely doubtful ryuji would walk up to just whoever and give them a hug in the same manner he did akira. you never see him do this with anyone else in the game, he is ONLY this touchy with akira, and that’s highlited a few times. the game makes it very clear that only one person gets this treatment. this touchiness isnt just for one scene though, there are clear times where ryuji approaches akira unprompted, as if he just wants to be with him. the infamous bath house scene where ryuji leans on akira, to which akira says “don’t touch me,” (very flustered, might i add) and the treasure chest opening animation, where he keeps his hand on akita’s shoulder supportively the whole time, even giving him a little pat on the back.

speaking of being extremely touchy,, the valentine’s day short that nobody talks about. i know i just wrote a novel on how touchy ryuji is in the game, but this is a whole different BREED of touchy. there are points in this animation where ryuji smiles and holds akira’s hand, refers to akiren as “my renren!” and most importantly kisses akira. now, in all fairness? this short was really vague with what exactly happened. you ask ryuji if you’re his valentine, to which he provides an extremely clear “yes, yes of course,” before pausing and providing a much less confident “NOT!” you converse wirh ryuji for a while, and then it cuts to the attic. you can only see silhouettes of ryuji and akira through the window at this point, but they’re very clearly holding onto each other. their faces both lean towards each other, then the short is over. that’s it, that’s all the clarification we get. i’ve seen a lot of people argue that this was a hug, and usually i could agree. with a company like atlus, it’s a lot more likely that’s all it was. the one thing that leads me to believe otherwise is the fact that they didn’t let us see. if it was a hug, there’s nothing to censor, right? if they keep a kiss subtle, or if they’re able to make it subliminal, less people get pissed, everyone’s happy. EVERYONE EXCEPT ME BECAUSE THIS WAS BULLSHIT LET THEM KISS!!!!

regardless, touching back on the point where ryuji realizes his own feelings, there’s a scene during shido’s palace arc where ryuji calls the mc after everyone leaves his place. this is another scene everyone and their grandma has talked about, but i feel like i cannot drive this point home enough: this is the point where ryuji would have confessed if he hadn’t gotten too scared. he starts to say something, but he brushes it off with a “forget it,” and it’s never touched on again. am i going to say ryuji knew he would sacrifice himself if it came down to it and he wanted akiren to know in case that had to happen? yeah that’s. exactly what i’m going to say. in the end, i think his fear of ruining things outweighed his bravery, and so he hung up.

one of the BIGGEST points in the game that just drives home the idea that they’re romantically involved is at the very beginning. during the first palace ever, when akiren awakens to his persona, he does it to save ryuji. this might not seem like much, but considering the fact that most everyone else has an extreme driving reason to awaken to their persona, and akira’s is this kid he just met, i think that says a lot. DARE I SAY, they are literally soulmates. not only that, though, because akira is also partially responsible for ryuji’s awakening. i would argue it was ryuji’s anger at kamoshida for taking away the track team, or the fact that ryuji himself was about to be killed, but i believe that if that were the case, ryuji would have awoken to his persona at the same time akira did. there were extremely similar circumstances, and the opportunity was definitely there. but instead, it’s only when akira is on the ground and encourages him not to lose hope that he gets pissed enough to get his persona. they are each other’s reason to not let hope die. that’s it that’s the post

#uhh #i really just rambled?? i love them so much though #pegoryu #ryuji sakamoto #akira kusuru #ren amamiya #this is also worded poorly but #like. whatever #im in a mood

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toxophilitis · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift Nurse

CHAPTER ONE

Nancy Cherry walked through the familiar halls of her small-town hospital as she looked at the charts on the clipboard she carried. The attractive young nurse had been born and raised in this small, mountain village. The only time she had gone away was to attend college. Returning, she had married her only lover, ask him who had high plans for a career as a downhiller. A year later they were divorced.

Even though she was only in her mid-twenties, Nancy dressed, and acted, like somebody's old-maid aunt. She wore her long hair up in a bun under a nurse's cap. The lush, voluptuous body that she had been so proud of once before was now hidden under a heavy, loose uniform.

At one time Nancy had been one hot little item around her small community. She and her handsome ex-husband had been the talk of the town. She was the best cheerleader in high school, then became a nurse. He was the top prospect on the ski team.

In the two years since her marriage, Nancy hadn't been with a man. She might as well be an old-maid. Two years without fucking was enough to make her one.

Nancy stopped as she heard sounds coming from the room she was passing. She could hear whispering and giggling through the partially open door. The pretty nurse tiptoed up to the crack, peeking into the room to see what was happening. What she saw made her draw in a hissing breath of air.

Dr. Harbo, the orthopedic surgeon, was in the room with the new candy-striper, Kitty. In her small hospital, Nancy was the only one on the night shift one regular basis, and Dr. Harbo had volunteered to take the unpopular shift tonight for another doctor.

The tall, dark-haired doctor was kissing the young blonde. His hands were on her chest as she made a weak effort to push them away.

Nancy stared, seeing their deep steamy tongue-kisses.

"Ooooh, Dr. Harbo," the little blonde girl moaned. "What if Nurse Cherry finds us? It's not safe."

"Relax, Kitty," he assured the panting young girl as he worked to unbutton her uniform. "Nobody will come back here. We've only got one patient. Besides, you can't let me walk around with this hard-on. Don't be a tease, Kitten."

The handsome doctor pulled the blonde girl into his arms and kissed her again.

Nancy saw his tongue slipping into her mouth as the candy-striper moaned.

Nancy felt a strange sensation passing through her body as she peeked in on the pair in the room. She knew that she should walk straight in and stop this older doctor from molesting the young girl, but something about the way that Kitty was responding had stopped her. She felt a moist heat building between her legs that she hadn't felt in a long time. The big titted brunette nurse was getting excited as she watched.

Nancy was the best built girl in the mountain community. She was tall and dark and beautiful. Her big firm tits still stood up high and proud on her chest, even though no man had seen them in two years. The feelings she had so loved were starting in her supple body again. The pretty nurse moaned, feeling that deep aching need for a man.

The doctor's hands went inside Kitty's open uniform top and bulged out the pink and white material as he cupped her titties.

From the way the bulge was moving, Nancy figured out that he was pinching and rolling the young girl's nipples. As he pulled the sides of the uniform apart, she saw that she was right.

"Ooooh, Dr. Harbo!" Kitty groaned as he pushed apart her dress and exposed the lacy see through bra while he kissed the side of her neck. "You know that drives me crazy."

"Really?" he teased. "How about this?"

He found the front clasp of the little girl's bra and flipped it open. The grapefruit-sized mounds of pure white tit-flesh popped out. Her nipples looked all hard and long as Dr. Harbo cupped and squeezed the naked round globes.

Nancy put her eye closer to the crack as she watched the older man fondling the girl's luscious young tits. She felt her own pussy growing wet and hot as the young girl quivered from the experienced man's touch. Nancy wished that it was her who was leaning up against the bed with Dr. Harbo's hands on her huge tits. She glanced down, seeing a bulge in his green surgical pants -- Dr. Harbo's cock was rock hard.

"Jesus, Doctor!" groaned the little candy striper. "Let's wait. I'll go back to your condo, like we did before. Ooooh, God!"

Dr. Harbo slipped down and sucked on the little girl's lovely white tits to silence her objections as he guided her band down to his raging bulge in his pants.

Kitty's hand didn't shy away. She rubbed the bulge in his pants.

"Take him out."

"I want to," gasped the little blonde girl, "but Nurse Cherry is right dawn the hall. She's gonna catch us!"

"Don't worry," he urged as he unzipped his fly for the young teenager.

Kitty's hand slipped into the gap and dragged out a huge cock. It was nice and hard. All stiff and throbbing.

The sight of his lovely naked hard-on made Nancy shudder. One hand dropped to her crotch, rubbing obscenely off the soaking wet patch of pink passion between her legs.

"Remember what I taught you?" he asked.

"Here?" Kitty giggled.

"Yeah," he said, pushing down on the girl's shoulders. "Why not? You loved it. Remember?"

"I sure did!" she cooed, dropping to her knees as she stared at his hard cock.

Kitty wrapped her fingers around the doctor's cock as it stuck out from the loose green pants. She ran her fingers up and dawn the stiff tube of his cock meat. Drawing close to the raging hard prick, the half-naked teenager licked the fat purple head of the man's cock.

"Mmmmmm!"

Nancy had always loved doing that. She had been born to suck cock, her ex-husband had told her that in high school. Oral sex had come so naturally to her. She had never lost that love for the taste of a hard cock, and for the lovely white stuff that spurted from the tip of it when she sucked one off.

"Ooooohh, yes, Kitten!" the doctor sighed with obvious delight. "Lick him. Suck my cock nice, honey."

Nancy saw that she wasn't the only young girl who had taken to sucking cocks. The girl in the pink and white uniform was licking and sucking over Dr. Harbo's meaty thickness as if she loved it. The glistening head of the man's prick was leaking a steady flow of pre-cum. Kitty wasn't letting it go to waste. She was slurping up the clear drops as quickly as they appeared.

Rubbing her hand over the mound of shivering flesh between her legs, Nancy was breathing heavily as she peeked in on the couple in the room. Dropping her hand, the gorgeous woman slipped it up under her uniform. The moist heat seeping out from her excited cunt had dampened her panties already. As she cupped the mound of her cuntal flesh, one finger slipped under the band of elastic at her waist. The tips of her fingers touched the thick curls of her pussy-hair. The silky fur-lined outer lips of her hot pussy opened as she parted it with her middle finger. As her eyes bulged, she sank the finger up into her smoldering wet fuck-hole.

Looking around nervously, the young nurse was beginning to feel guilty about watching the couple in action. It wasn't as if they were neglecting the patients. There was only one, a young man with a broken leg waiting to see if his knee was injured. Dr. Harbo and Kitty weren't hurting anyone, and it was obvious that the young girl was going along with the man's seduction willingly.

Nancy decided that she wasn't going to turn them in, but she wasn't going to stop watching, either.

Kitty was still bathing the doctor's hard prick with her sweet tongue. The man had his hands down in the open front to her uniform, fondling those grapefruit-sized tits as he pumped his cock into her sucking mouth. She was groaning, making gurgling noises as she slobbered all over the hardness in her hands.

"God, Kitten!" he hoarsely groaned. "This feels good, baby, but I've got to fuck you again!"

"Can we take the chance?"

"Don't you want to fuck?"

"Jesus!" she hissed. "I wanna fuck you so bad, Dr. Harbo! I just don't want to get in trouble."

The doctor pulled the little candy-striper up. He spun her around.

The bed in front of the teenager had the rail down and was raised to the highest position.

As he bent her over the mattress, the doctor stripped off the pink panties under the short dress. His steel-hard prick was sticking up.

Kitty spread her legs and fell forward over the bed.

"I've been thinking about you ever since you came up to my place last week," he groaned, his lust-filled voice carrying out to the nurse in the hallway. "I can't wait to fuck you again."

"Me, too, Doctor!" Kitty looked back over her shoulder. "Let's do it! Fuck me! Fuck me, Doctor Harbo!"

Nancy's middle finger was fucking back and forth over the hooded lump of sensitive flesh at the top of her juicy hot cuntal slit. The feathery soft touch of her own fingertip was making her cunt throb with desire. She could feel the overheated liquid overflowing from her pussy and gushing out around her fingers. Dipping down into the swampy wetness once more, she scooped up more of the slippery oils to add to her growing lust.

The man bent the little girl over the bed as he held his cock in his hand. She let out a feverish groan as the head of that long thick tube of cock-meat disappeared between her legs.

Nancy whimpered right along with the girl as that hard hunk of prick-flesh sank up into Kitty's pussy.

Kitty was pushing back, humping against the man's thighs as she urged him to give her more cock.

"Oooh, yes!" the little girl hissed with her uniform up over her hips. "God? He's so big like this, Doctor! So big and hard!"

"Aaaauuuuh!"

When his cock was fully inside the girl's cunt, he gripped into the softness of her hips.

Nancy could see the wild fuck developing as he reared back and started to really pound his prick into the candy-striper's hot cunt-hole.

The nurse fluttered her fingertips over her pussy as she reached up to unbutton her uniform top. She bent her knees slightly as she watched the young girl getting fucked doggy-style on the hospital bed. Nancy's fucking fingers were bringing on the wild ecstasy that she hadn't felt in so long. Her pussy was dripping, the sticky fluid seeping into her palm as she curled her fingers up tighter into the slash of pure heat between her legs.

Nancy cupped her own big mounds of tit-flesh. She reached down into her bra, pinching at the hard buds capping her perfect tit-globes. Nancy had beautiful big tits. Sensitive, too. She hissed out in passion as she twisted her nipple cruelly. Her finger eased all the way into the tightness of her fuck-tunnel, pumping in and out slowly.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Nancy moaned as she leaned heavily against the doorframe.

"God, Doctor Harbo!" The young girl was groaning, fighting back the scream she felt building in her throat. "Do me! Ooooh, yes! Do it to me, honey! Fuck me!"

"Ooooh, I will!" he growled. "I'm gonna fuck the stilt out of you, you sweet little thing your pussy is so fucking tight and wet! Take it, honey! Take my cock!"

Nancy slipped a second finger into her clenching cunt as she heard their voices reaching a peak of passion that told her of their approaching orgasms. Her tingling nipples were pressing into the palm of her hand as she switched from one marvelous tit-mound to the other. Her swirling fingers were penetrating as far as she could reach up into her pussy, pumping in and out faster. The rushing tidal wave of passion that she could feel building in her belly was right on the ragged edge of washing over her senses.

The doctor hammered his cock into the little girl's pussy. She was arching her back, grinding back against him on each stroke. The lewd sound of their bodies slapping together was helping Nancy bring herself off.

What am I doing? Nancy thought as her fingers finished the self-induced orgasm that was shaking her lovely body. Kitty was doing it. She wasn't sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She was getting fucked, and by Dr. Harbo. Why was she keeping it from the men who had been asking her out? Her husband was long gone. The only one still worrying about him was Nancy.

Gritting her teeth in ecstasy as she squealed softly, Kitty arched her body to take the hammering cock deeper into her sucking cunt-hole. She stiffened as he growled behind her. Then she shook all over, grinding back vigorously.

"That's nice," he groaned.

"Feel it?" she whispered.

"Oooooh! Milk it! God, Kitten! Milk my cock with your pussy!"

"You gonna come for me?" Kitty cooed.

"I'm right on the edge!"

"Yes!" she hissed. "Squirt it in me, Dr. Harbo! Ooooh, God! Come in me, honey!"

The total ecstasy of the moment filled Nancy's mind as she creamed all over her knuckles. Her hand was cupping tightly over the puffy mound of delight that she was finger-fucking. The wonderful orgasm seemed to go on and on and on.

"Yes!" Kitty sobbed biting her lower lip as she fought not to scream in pleasure. "You're making me come, Doctor! Making me come so nice!"

"Shit!" he suddenly hissed.

"God! I can feel your cum, honey! Ooooh! It's so hot, Dr. Harbo! Come up in me! Keep coming in me!"

The nurse in the hall realized that he was finishing. She watched the young girl face as the hot juice gushed into her body. A smile split Kitty's lips as Nancy eased the door closed. She knew that she had to slip away before she was caught. Her hand came out of the soaking wet panties. Nancy caught the scent of a woman needing to get fucked as she re-buttoned her uniform top. As she walked past the nurse's station, she saw her reflection in the hallway mirror.

Stopping, Nancy saw that her lush figure was wasted in this loose uniform, but she could still see the hints of it. Right now, she looked like she was ready to take on a company of men.

Na more hiding behind this uniform, she thought. No more hiding from her feelings. Her needs.

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haissitall · 4 years

Text

ok, to hell with it, here are my Breen headcanons.

His PhD is in Mathematics and Computer science.

However, he learned a lot about theoretical physics being the Administrator of Black Mesa and during the Combine rule, and he worked on the Combine portal we see in Nova Prospect. His ideas were elaborate, elegant and extremely impractical.

He can put on a more charming personality when he needs to and fool people into liking him, but if you actually know him you will easily see through it. It's really phoney.

He was the one who made everyone wear those ridiculous ties at Black Mesa. It’s one of the examples of his authoritarian tendencies he had long before the Combine arrived.

Used to smoke, gave up after the Seven Hour War. Partially because cigarettes stopped being produced and he didn’t want to admit he needed them, partially because you gotta defeat your instincts and all that.

He was the main driving force behind the creation of the transhuman Overwatch soldiers. He convinced the Combine to use humans in their military forces, even though they had no plans to do so initially. There is a weird paternalistic connection between him and the Overwatch soldiers because of this.

The Advisors talk to him telepathically and sometimes send these headache-inducing fits to his head to make their point more clear.

I think it was someone else's headcanon I adopted, but I just really liked it: he used to need glasses to read, but his vision got corrected by the Combine.

He takes baths in the healing xen water regularly to keep his health in check. I mean, he is old.

Because of the xen water and other alien healing technologies, he ages irregularly. He does age, but the natural process is slowed down and inconsistent.

He needs sleeping pills most of the time and rarely gets a full-night's sleep.

Despite common misconception, his diet mainly consists of the same Combine-produced shit everyone eats at City 17. There are two reasons for this: a) the Combine are not interested in producing food just for him and he will not ask them to, b) he’s got things to prove to himself, just like with smoking.

The White Forest belonged to Black Mesa, and became his first residence under the Combine. They abandoned it (maybe due to a xen infestation the Resistance and vorts had to clean up to have the base for themselves) and he moved to one of those governmental buildings in the downtown of City 17.

He had human staff, but after moving to the Citadel the closest he has to regular human interactions are with the Overwatch guards.

His living quarters look like a studio apartment, just with walls made out of that blueish Citadel metal and the best view out the window ever. The style of the furniture is all around the place, because it was collected by the Combine who didn't know anything about matching styles.

Overwatch guards act as his housekeepers.

#wallace breen

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b4civility · 4 years

Text

August,7

fanfic based on the “teenage love triangle” on Folklore, “Betty”, “August” and “Cardigan”. Still releasing new chapters, stay tooned!

[NO WARNINGS]

summary: Betty doesn’t realize she is touching James the first time she does so. James doesn’t realize she is everything he wants the first time he paints her sink red. Alisson doesn’t realize she wasn’t part of the plan. August slipped away like a bottle of wine, as quick as it could,staining everything it reaches.

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Chapter 1: Betty

Whenever I have to pack, my head gets cloudy. Always seems like I got everything I need, except that the Object That I Take For Granted But Actually Use Everyday stays behind, like a bath sponge or a coffee pot. I know this will happen, but get a bit of a headache every time trying to fight it. All the boxes in mu checklist are checked, but this anxious feeling still buzzes inside my head.

‘Check under the bed to see if there’s something there’, mom says.

I check. There is, but nothing that belongs to me.

I am moving from a house of girls to another house of girls, but at least I get to have the unspoken individuality of my belongings, the entitlement to my schedule and to have “ I would rather not talk about it” or “I want to keep it to myself” as a legitimate answer this time around. My sisters are pretty sad about it- Skyler says she will miss my closet the most. “ So I am supposed to buy my own earrings now? How much do they cost? Do you try them on at the store? Is it ok if I get them wet by accident or will they be totally ruined?” she shoots at me as I finish packing my jewelry. “ Did you not care to not spill water on my earrings when you wore them?”, I ask, but she just looks away and plays with the ones that are in her ear, that are, too, mine. They are the silver with some dark green balls at the end. I stole them from a fancy boutique when I was 14, igniting my addiction to this accessory. I stole a couple more until the guilt finally kicked in,and then became an expert on finding cheap and not that bad ones at Aliexpress. I’ll just let her have it, looks better with her short hair than with my long one. Even though we have the same kind of curls, mine weren’t as defined as hers when I had short hair. A little bit shorter than the earrings, makes her look so edgy. She loves it.

Eliza, in the other hand, despites my wardrobe, but worships my baking skills. One Sunday or the other we bake together, she makes sour doo biscuits and I bake a cake. This is our stack for the week, and then we try a different recipe for the dessert that day. We have a nice dynamic in the kitchen by now-she hates making cake but loves eating mine and I feel the same way about her biscuits, ans since both of us have a sweet tooth, baking is taken very seriously under this roof.

The four of us get in the car, I get the backseat since Eliza is our official DJ (not that we gave her the title, rather she took it),plus, mom likes her by her side. Never have I ever sat behind the wheels when the entire family was in the car, for some reason mom would always get cautious about it when I asked if I could drive in these situations, even though I have been each and everyone’s chauffeur at some point.

Tomorrow, at this very hour, I would be waking up to none of them. The closest thing to not being a sister I ever had was before I was seven, when Skyler wasn’t born yet, the bedroom was all mine and dad only had one volleyball player in our backyard. The closest thing I ever got to not being a daughter when he left. I was 12, Skyler was 5 and mom was in no condition to deal with her and our loss at the same time. Grandma was around a lot for the next 2 years. I couldn’t say the same about our mother, even up to this date.

So I was reading her body expression, her smile at what my sister was saying about the music she chose, her thin neck, blurred by some hair strands that got out of her pony tale and eventually felt on her shoulders covered by her green cardigan, and how easily breakable her peacefulness appeared. Not because of my departure,no, she has been looking like this everyday since that last day. I don’t believe the other two ever notices that, not when they got their hands full with the colossal mess they make to get their older sister’s attention. It does work, I’m even moving houses because of it;college is just a social-acceptable excuse.

Three hours later we have completed our journey from Mendax to Verum, the college town just 20 minutes away from campus. Five other girls were to live with me, none that I have met yet, but their facebook page tells me I got another Political Science major in the house, two English majors, a biology southmore and soon-to-be-graduated journalist. I sort of hoped I was going to be the first one to arrive so I could get my stuff in place first, not have all the stubbornness that run through my family’s DNA thrown at them as a first impression and possibly bake a Homecoming/Welcome/If My Words Fail Me At Least I Have This Going For Me cake. Plus, I own Eliza this last/ first moment, so I’d ask for her help.

The house was unapologetically pink. The pastel tone suited the wood-revested building very well, so much it felt like Barbie Dream House: College edition. The family house energy of it, the immense porch space, the spacious interior corridors,two livingrooms and the hugh gress space in the backyard were the opposite of what you would expect of a college girls’ residency, yet everything you wish they all looked like. Besides, this was a very prospect location for an off campus party, so I think I got the upper hand with this one.

“ You are in a Barbie movie scenario for your entire graduation. I’m so jealous I can’t barely put it into words” Skyler said, staring at it, blinking as if she was waiting for it to disappear the next time she opened her eyes. “ Yeah,I will be sitting at the porch waiting to see if Ken shows up anytime soon,too.” I answered as I stood next to her, holding boxes. “Yeah, be sure to look very carefully for him at the massive Homecoming barbecue you guys are going to be having in this abnormous big backyard of yours”.So it was that obvious.” But don’t get attached to the first cutie you see, ok? Someone better could be just around the corner... ”. I don’t even want to imagine how her college years are going to be like. Probably a little cooler than mine; she always knows how to make a fun moment even funnier. Is it legal to bring your underaged sibling to a uni party?

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you in mind whenever I get more-than-two-dates invested in someone here”

Did Skyler really thought that my next romance would just fall into my backyard, like that?

Chapter 2: James

The sound of the wheels rolling on the concrete always get people looking, even when you are far from them. Anyone in top of a skateboard becomes a model in a suburban street, whose streets turn into a red carpet filled with paparazzi. I try to say something like “good morning” or “hello” to whoever I am passing by in an attempt to make my politeness overcome the annoyance of the loud noise, and convince myself that it works. Somehow, I often end up in a situation where it would be better not to be seen: whether is when I am riding my board and I get loud or in places I shouldn’t be attempting to land a trick at, or when I am pointing my camera at someone, trying to get a picture without them noticing. As if it isn’t happening for the hundredth time, I awkwardly pause, try to wave at them so I don’t come out as a stalker and gesticulating an apology all at once. People generally frown and move some place else, as a anyone in their right mind would. But only my headphones come with me for the ride when I know I will be taking The Pink House road. Two years ago I was riding by for the fourth time in the same week - ok, that was pretty stalker-y - getting shots of the house, the thing that struck me at first, and then the feature that actually grabbed my attention: the girls. There were four college girls living there, all who seemed so bubbly,so full of life, so enjoyable to the eye, so hot. By that time I had the count in my head, and one of them was missing. Didn’t mind much, got some rather good photos of Claire, the only one that I(oddly,but actually) knew. We made out at a uni party that I had sneaked in to the year before. As soon as I looked forward, A bloody face jumped in front of me,screaming, scaring me enough so that I felt in the concrete, scratched an elbow and hurting my feet.

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T WEAR PROTECTION PADS!!!!! AND ALSO WHEN YOU ACT LIKE A CREEP FUCK,BASTARD!”

As I pointed my head to the sky, the bloody shadow took away the mask, to reveal the fourth girl missing. “I-I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.. I was just… The house, I-”

“Oh God ,it’s a creepy kid”, she said, throwing a hand to help me get up. “ So just because you are a cute teenager you think you can spy on stranger’s house like that?!?”- she said I was cute- “Yo, it’s no stalker”- kinda was- “just a random kid with a camera. Partially broken camera, you might wanna pick that piece up”. That was the day I met Inez. We got quite acquainted since that day, and photographing a place that you are allowed in got boring after the first two times so we just became friends.

I searched for her, but instead saw a brown girl istead. A new girl. Someone I was not ready to see. I stopped breathing the second she raised her head and I could see her almond eyes better, the spark on her cheeks reflecting the sun. The next thing I knew I had my face on the concrete, with the same elbow scratched, again.

“Shit, are you ok? You're bleeding” she (yes, she!) said to me.

“I-I’m cool, I’m cool… you know,just...whatever, happens all the time and shit...” . My mouth doesn’t know how to work when my brain is in complete shock with the view, apparently.

“You should at least wash it, your elbow could get infected, come on inside” she said, as she held my hand and arm very softly. You could see she was trying not to touch the injury much, but I swear I wasn’t feeling my entire body.

Chapter 3: Betty

“I suppose we should have a first aid kit here, somewhere…”- he’s painting my sink in red as the water runs in the wound. What a way to start. “Eliza, Skyler, help me; you go look if you find anything in the bathroom and you, keep at the kitchen cabinets”.

“It’s on the upper shelf, actually”, he answers.

It was.What the fuck?

“So you live here now?!?!” I hear a voice from behind that isn’t my mother’s. It’s the biology major,even though she is blonder than her facebook pictures.

“I-I-I just… arrived…. I’m sorry he… I was just...” Was I ever going to come up with the right sequence of words to explain that I, a girl she never met, had got into her house with a bleeding,also strange boy and two teenagers running wild looking through her stuff? The chances are beyond unlikely,at its best.

“Not you, I was expecting you- I mean him”, she arched her eyebrows.

“Inez ! long time no see, girl!”, he replies with a sort of laughing, trying to lighten up the mood. I wasn't understanding one bit of what was going on.

“ You couldn’t wait for the party so you just brought it right in yourself, huh? Look at the mess you made in my kitchen! You know, I am leaving here next year so you better make a good impression of yourself for the other girls if you want to keep falling in our doorstep and getting aid”

“I don’t think I’m their first option but I can make it work, never smile at someone and didn’t get a smile back” he says softly, kind of taking advantage of it, as he smiles at Inez, and she tries to hold it, but smiles back. I smile a little bit too, but still- what the fuck is happening?!?!

“ You believe that your white teeth will get you anywhere, don’t you?”

“It got me aid the first time I ever felt in your doorstep. Also got you letting me teach you how to skateboard,which was super cool” he started sounding a little bit more teenager-y. How old was he?

“ I always wanted to skate, you just happened to have a skateboard”. The air in the room was decrisealing chaotic. What he did worked.

“Oh, like we were the only two people here, I am so sorry; hi, I’m Inez, welcome home,Beatrice!” she turns to me, shaking my hand, with a relaxed smile on.

“Thank you, you can call me Betty” He really softened the mood, the words even came out of my mouth normally.

“Ok, sure. I was meant to be here earlier but I had a salon appointment. But you met the house mascot already,so that’s one thing out of the list”- she points at this skater, sitting on the sink- “ This is James, he’s around more than he should. Do you need help? with the boxes?” And then I remembered of my sisters, running loose around the house and my mom, probably on the car outside.

“ My sisters and I got everything by the porch already, there aren’t many”

“Fine, I will just wrap up this skater’s arm in a band-Aid and then I’ll show you your room. Clem is your roommate. You are enrolled in political science too, right?”

“Yeah”

“Nice, I think you two will be quite a match then. James, get your board rolling outta here, you are done, you can stop scarring my new roomate.

“ Thanks, ‘Nez” he hopped out of the sink. “ It was never my intention to scare you. Nice meeting you, Betty” he gives me a quiet smile, looking into my eyes just for a second before looking at the ground. He ran a little bit down the hallway, got on the skateboard and went out of sight. He had this boyish posture, stubborn, unaware of his own size. His broad shoulders moved along with his waist as he strolled away. It was nice meeting you,too,James.

#folklore #taylorstans #taylor swift #original story #betty #august #cardigan #folklorefic august7

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euphoric-melancholyy · 5 years

Text

The Secrets We Keep

I’m on a personal vendetta against “May’s abusive boyfriend” trope so I thought it would be fun to give May a really awesome, loving boyfriend who’s just a little confused as to why she lets her teenage son stay out til 1 every night and sleep somewhere else every weekend. Also, he’s friends with Tony Stark? Chris - May’s new boyfriend - feels like he’s missing something here.

I’m posting this instead of a fic rec today

Also on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

May Parker hadn’t planned on stepping back into the dating scene, but then again she hadn’t planned on most of the important life events that seemed to shape her. His name was Chris. He was handsome, tan with dark hair and scruff that couldn’t quite be called a beard yet, and hooded green eyes that all the hospital patients commented on. Chris worked alongside her at Queens Memorial, exchanging quips about 90s pop culture and recipes to actually cook for Peter. He cared for his patients with a rare sensitivity to their needs, always trying to brighten their day and learn a little bit about what makes them happy. Like her, he was a widower, having lost his wife eight years prior to cancer. And she hadn’t planned on him crashing her little bubble, being a balm for the isolation of raising a super-powered kid who seemed to attract danger like a magnet. Not that she could tell Chris that.

But even so, he soothed her worries when Peter was out on patrol and being with him felt like relearning how to breathe. It felt euphoric, and scary and soothing and exciting all at once. She wasn’t sure when she had last smiled as much as she did when Chris entered the picture. It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter either, her newfound giddiness after long days at work now more commonplace than exhaustion.

After three dates, she tells her nephew, nervously twirling spaghetti around her fork as she awaits his reaction.

His eyes brighten as she speaks and he puts down his fork, eagerly leaning forward as she tells him about the Italian dinner he made for them on their last date. “That’s great, May! As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I know Ben would feel the same way, by the way."

Peter’s lips are pressed together in a soft smile and she’s not sure why she’d been so worried to tell him. Pride overwhelms her in that moment, of who he is and his kindness, his inability to let the little guy suffer when he knows he can help. She might not love that he’s risking his life as Spider-Man, but she can still be proud of him for it. It coils in her chest with the near constant ebb of fear, but it’s warm and inviting and she’s not sure how she got to raise the best kid in the universe.

"He’d be so proud of you, Pete.” She beams at him before eating a forkful of spaghetti. “Spider-kid.”

“It’s Spider-Man, May.” He protests. “You sound like Mr. Stark when you make those nicknames.”

“Oh, we can’t have me sounding like him, now can we?”

“You already tag team me like divorced parents who stay friends, so I don’t see why not.”

“It’s called co-parenting,” she responds and Peter rolls his eyes.

“So when can I meet this Chris?” Peter asks and she doesn’t even try to stifle her smile at his eagerness. She might not be able to help him with homework or any of his Spider-Man activities, but this - this she can handle.

-/-/-

They set ground rules. The first and most important rule is that Chris can’t know Peter’s Spider-Man, at least not for awhile. It means Peter can’t leave his suit lying around or continue crawling on the ceiling out of boredom or stress or whatever reason he decides it’s a better place to pace than the floor.

They also agree not to tell Chris that he spends half his week with the Tony Stark.

(“People at school already tease me about it being fake and I don’t care, but…it isn’t normal for a random teenager to just hang out with Mr. Stark. And what if he connects Spider-Man? Then that puts him in danger too and I just, I- I don’t want him to know yet May.”)

This is a secret May still thinks she can handle — at least, for a time. If asked, she says that Peter has an internship with Happy Hogan.

And, in some weird twist of fate he never wants to experience again, Peter finds himself giving the talk. He’s beat red the whole time, cheeks flushed as he stammers through his explanation.

(“May, I-I have enhanced senses and um, I can hear your heartbeat. And I can hear a - hear a conversation happening two blocks over right now. So like, if - if he’s gonna spend the night, or something, please for the love of my innocence, let me be at the Compound. Or- or just tell me. I need a heads-up.”

“If your hearing is actually that good, I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“Yeah, but not from you and I never want to.”)

-/-/-

The second rule is broken three weeks after Peter meets Chris. Though they get along famously, Peter usually isn’t around when Chris is at the apartment. It isn’t planned, he’s just busy and overcommitted. At this point, it’s only his third time being in the older man’s presence.

They’re all at the table together, eating lasagna that Chris had made when Tony knocks on the door and May answers.

“Ah, Ms. Parker, lovely to see you as always. Mind if I borrow Peter for a few days? It’s for,” he glances at Chris and gives a signature fake smile and nod, “Internship stuff.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, what are you - what are you doing here?” Peter asks, his voice getting higher the more he talks. “I thought Happy was coming, not that it isn’t great to see you. It is I just - I-”

“Happy’s in the car, kid.” Tony says, smiling to himself at Peter’s nervous rambling.

May sighs and side steps, inviting him in while Peter gets a bag together. “If anything happens to my kid Stark, I will personally come and kill you. FRIDAY will let me in and you won’t even see it coming.” She keeps her face stern for a moment, then breaks into a wide grin. “Chris, meet Tony Stark. Tony meet Chris."

Chris is unsurprisingly starstruck and confused, stumbling over his words in a way that May finds to be the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. "Hi, uh, hi. You’re I-You’re here? And you’re Iron Man. And Peter?” he stops mid-ramble and extends his hand. Tony takes it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“Likewise. Peter’s told me a lot about you. Speaking of, kid, hurry up. I don’t have all day."

Peter runs back into the common area, backpack in tow and wearing his suit, sans mask, under his clothes. The red spandex peaks out at his wrists. Tony cocks an eyebrow at his protege.

"What?” the teen asks.

“Nothing. Let’s go."

Peter kisses May on the cheek, promising to be safe and update her three times a day, before following his mentor out the door.

-/-/-

The next night, they’re curled up on the couch together with May’s head on Chris’s chest and legs intertwined. The news plays softly in the background but May isn’t really paying attention.

"So when were you gonna tell me that you’re BFFs with a billionaire? With Iron Man himself?” Chris asks, running his fingers through her hair. There isn’t anything accusatory in his tone and May cuddles closer to him.

“We’re not BFFs. He mentors Peter sometimes with… science stuff. It all goes over my head. Peter asked me not to mention it. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself."

"And Iron Man just whisked Peter off to. . ?” he lets his question trail off.

“Some nerdy science conference in Italy.”

“Damn, that’s-” he pauses, looking at the TV and pointing. On the screen, there’s a breaking news alert about The Avengers fighting another alien army, because apparently normal villains went out of style in 2012. “Wait, that Italy?"

She sees Peter, Spider-Man, next to The Hulk, Iron Man flying above as they fight off their oppressors. Everyone’s there - Cap and Widow and Iron Patriot and Hawkeye, but they are pulled away to another part of the fight. They’ve been fighting for at least half an hour when she watches as Spider-Man is thrown into a building. The bricks break with the impact and it begins to cave and she swears she stops breathing for a moment. It’s another five minutes before she sees him again, red and blue swinging around and webbing up the aliens. Iron Man fires his repulsors at the last big baddie and Hulk smashes their foe’s head half a dozen times.

"Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s fine,” Chris offers, his voice low and serious. “He’s at a conference, not fighting these monsters."

"Yeah.” It’s barely above a whisper and she takes out her phone when she gets a message from Peter.

Don’t worry. I’m okay. It’s gonna take more than that to take me out. Tony is going all “dad mode” on me. It’s embarrassing.

May looks up to the TV to see Iron Man cradling an injured Spidey and flying them to their jet. She smiles and types out a response.

I can see that. You did great, Pete. Take an ice bath or something, that looked like it hurt. Love you.

“He’s fine,” she says, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

“Told you,” Chris quips, leaning in to kiss her. It’s soft and it calms her nerves in a way she can’t explain. “So, you know Iron Man, but who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“I’m partial to Spider-Man. He is Queens’ local vigilante after-all."

"May Parker, a Spider-Man fan,” he teases. She throws a pillow at him.

-/-/-

“Shouldn’t Peter be home by now?” Chris asks one night. May glances at the time on her phone. It reads 12:33 a.m.

“He has until 1 a.m.”

“Isn’t that kinda late? I mean he’s only sixteen - he could get seriously hurt out there. Or partying and drinking his weight in-”

“He’s fine, Chris. Peter’s a good kid. I trust him.” She looks towards his bedroom door. It’s shut so he can just silently swing in. The crime has been quieter lately - thank god. No alien attacks or evil mutant who has it out for her kid. “His curfew goes back to 11:30 once school starts up."

Chris looks skeptical, but he’s not about to tell her how to raise her nephew. "Whatever you say.”

-/-/-

Peter’s body aches, muscles throbbing with the all-enveloping pain of post battle. Blood trickles down from around his left eye, which is now swollen shut. He cries, a short high pitched wince as he comes back into consciousness, his body pressing against a pile of rubble.

A sharp pain erupts at his most definitely broken ribs and he bites down another cry. He could hear someone calling his name in the distance, their voice muffled as if they were screaming underwater.

“Peter! Spider-Man!"

Peter groans, opening his eye as he tries to recall where he is but there’s a glint of red and gold blocking his sight.

"T'ny?”

“Yeah, bud. You blacked out there for a few minutes and I thought I’d come get you.”

“I’m o-” His word is caught on a hiss of pain as Tony lifts him into his arms and Peter curls into himself. “Shit.”

“Maybe don’t become a ragdoll for steampunk Ursula next time, okay?”

“Wha?”

“Otto Octavious - madman with mechanical arms. I’ll explain it to you when you’re more coherent. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

Peter wakes later in the dim light of the medbay. Mr. Stark sits in a recliner next to him, checking and promptly ignoring his emails. Peter’s head throbs, his left eye still swollen shut, his body aching, but it’s duller than before, the pull of drugs making his mind fuzzy. He’s been stripped of his suit and looks down to find he’s wearing an old MIT hoodie of Tony’s and…his Hello Kitty pajama pants, great.

“Four broken ribs, a concussion, a skull fracture, and of course there’s that eye - I’ll get you an eye patch and you can cosplay as Nick Fury.” Tony remarks, looking to the kid.

“Better that than these pajamas. Really, Mr. Stark?”

“Punishment for scaring the shit out of me,” he says with a smirk, but the rest of his face betrays his cool demeanor. There’s worry lines etched into his expression that furrow his brow and dark bags under his eyes. His hair is disheveled and Peter has the urge to reach out and fix it, but decides that would be weird. It’s strange to see his mentor like this, so unguarded and worried, and not TV ready. Tony isn’t even trying to hide it, which seems to be the worst part for Peter. He hates that he caused this.

“I’m sorry. Thanks, for - for saving me.” Peter says with a sheepish smile.

“Don’t mention it,” Tony says, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. Peter leans into the touch. “Actually do. Please mention it to your lovely Aunt. She gets off at two tonight so I’m gonna drive you back. Don’t worry, I’m sending some Captain America level narcotics with you for all that,” his hand makes a circle in the air, gesturing to Peter’s everything.

Peter gets home at 1:45, the hood of Tony’s sweatshirt pulled over his head in a sad attempt to hide his eye and some dry blood caked into his hairline. The smell of homemade pizza overwhelms his senses before he even walks in the apartment. It’s odd, May rarely cooks especially in the middle of the night.

“Hey hon,” Chris calls as Peter walks through the door. He’s standing in the kitchen, looking in the oven. “I thought I’d make you some dinner befo- oh my god Peter!”

Peter freezes, trying to stifle the panic that’s bubbling in his chest. Chris is already by his side less than a second later, hesitantly pushing the hood off Peter’s head and examining his eye with a concerned what the hell happened?

“Uhh…I was jumped? Yeah. Jumped. I was jumped.”

Chris considers him for a minute, soft gaze searching Peter’s in a way that makes him uncomfortable, like he’s learning something new. “C’mere,” Chris’s says, voice low and laced with so much concern that Peter doesn’t even protest as he follows him to the couch.

“I already went to the doctor. Mr. Stark took me. Really Chris, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Even if you already went, I’m worried and I’m a doctor, and I’d feel a lot better if you let me look. Please, Peter.”

The way he says Peter, it’s not unlike how Tony says his name sometimes, like a whispered prayer for him to be okay, and it breaks his resolve. Slowly, Peter lifts the hoodie over his head and tosses it to the floor. Chris gasps and it’s full of surprise and fear and all the emotions Peter wanted to avoid for at least a week, and Peter chances a look down. His torso is littered in bruises of varying shades and there’s a cut along his stomach. He can feel the medicine Dr. Cho gave him wearing off and it hurts.

“Pete,” the older man whispers, hands held in suspension above Peter’s ribs, like he wants to touch them but he’s terrified of causing anymore pain. “Your ribs…You-”

“They’ll be fine in a few days. I have a concussion too, so can I just,” Peter sighs, resting his head against the back of the couch. It’s soft and comforting and he’s just so ready for this day to be over. “Go to bed, please?”

The door opens in that moment and May walks in. She’s wearing blue scrubs and her hair is tied in a loose ponytail. Immediately she locks eyes with Peter, and her face crumbles as she rushes over. “Peter, baby! I- Tony said you were in a fight, but this…”

“I’m fine, May. Really. It really wasn’t a big deal. It’s not even worth worrying over.”

May shoos Chris to the side and sits down in between them. Her eyes run over Peter in a professional way, ending on his swollen eye. One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, “Okay, first off you cannot possibly say it’s not a big deal when you look like this. What did Dr. Cho say?” Her thumb brushes over his temple and a scowl replaces her worried look. As if wanting to prove her point, a gut-clenching pain shoots through him and he pulls his knees to his chest, sucking in air when his ribs protest painfully.

“A couple of broken ribs, skull fracture…” Peter whispers, wishing his metabolism didn’t work its way through all the painkillers in five minutes.

“And a concussion,” Chris reminds, his hand resting on May’s knee.

They look like a team, Peter thinks, and May’s presence had calmed Chris’s erratic heartbeat the moment she came home. The idea elicits pangs of guilt on top of everything - guilt at the lies he and May have concocted to keep his identity of Spider-Man safe. He wonders how hard it’s been on May and Chris’s relationship, how many white lies she’s had to tell, but he pushes the thought down and focuses on the throbbing in his head instead. At least that can be dealt with, he thinks, and asks May to get his medicine from his backpack. She hands it to him with a sad gleam in her eyes. It makes him want to crawl under the nearest blanket and hide from their sympathetic glances.

“Really May, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Just everyday stuff,” Peter tries to reassure her.

“Peter, you were jumped,” Chris says, his tone serious. “That’s not an everyday thing, or at least I hope not. It’s a big deal and it’s scary. Your ribs are broken for god’s sake. Your eye is swollen shut. I just-” Chris pauses, looking down at the cut along Peter’s ribs. May’s brows furrow in confusion at the mention of Peter being jumped, but she quickly schools her expression.

May sighs. “We’ll let you get some rest, okay superhero?” She offers her hand to help Peter get up. He takes it and stands. “Call if you need anything. We’ll be right here.”

“Thanks May. Thank you, Chris.”

He’s asleep not even ten minutes later, lulled by the concerned whispers of May and Chris from two rooms over. When he wakes the next morning, his body is sore, but his eye is almost back to normal.

-/-/-

Five months have passed when May wakes to the shrill of “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath playing from her phone at 3 a.m. Peter had thought it’d be funny to set it as her ringtone for when Tony called and she never got around to changing it back. Her bedroom is coated in darkness, save for the light from her phone and she squints at it. Chris is wrapped around her like a koala, arm slung over her stomach and lips pressed to the back of her shoulder.

“ ‘Ello,” she yawns as she answers, her eyelids drooping and the remnants of sleep threatening to pull her back in.

“May,” Tony’s says, his voice serious and raw with emotion that she’s never heard from the billionaire and it scares her, wiping away all the tiredness and replacing it with fear. May shoots out of bed, trying to keep her breath even but it fails. “Peter’s alive, first off, so don’t worry about that. He’s okay, kind of, well, he will be. He’s - he was shot earlier on patrol - twice. The damn kid. And Happy is on his way to get you, he should be there in ten minutes, so-”

“Peter was shot?” she whisper-screams, the words knocking the air from her lungs. And she can’t help it, the way her mind immediately goes to Ben on that fateful night, Peter at the police station covered in her late husband’s blood, silent sobs racking his body. The edges of a panic attack seeps in at the memory and her heart is going to beat out of her chest and she can’t breathe, she can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t-

She hears someone call her name, but she isn’t sure where she is anymore, and her mind takes her back to that first night without him, an inconsolable Peter wrapped around her muttering apologies between broken sobs. Peter didn’t go to sleep until noon the next day. She’s at Ben’s funeral, and there’s flowers everywhere - bright and vibrant and sickening wisps of color among black suits and dresses and her husband’s cold body. Everyone comes up and shakes her hand, offering words of comfort and food, but she doesn’t want any of it. Peter’s at her side and she squeezes his hand, tries to reassure him (and herself) that it’ll be okay. Peter nods, his eyes red and his motions slow and robotic and Peter-

Peter. This is about Peter. Peter’s been shot.

Her world comes back into focus and she sees Chris kneeling in front of her, sleep mussed hair and wide green eyes full of concern. His thumb wipes at a tear on the apple of her cheek and she presses the phone to her ear. Tony is still talking, telling her to breathe and that Peter’s okay and Happy’s almost there.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out a sob. “Tony, I…”

“It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. He has to be okay,” he pauses. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

She leans her head on Chris and her eyes flutter closed. He wraps his arms around her and it’s grounding. Peter’s alive. Peter isn’t Ben. Peter’s alive. She repeats it over and over, a silent mantra and she realizes both Chris and Tony are waiting for a response. “I…” she speaks into her phone. “Chris is here. I- I’m okay,” May hangs up and turns her attention to Chris.

“Peter was shot. He - I have to go. I - Happy, he’s outside I gotta-”

“Let me go with you,” Chris says. And god, she wants him too. She wants to curl into his side in the car and tell him everything, but she knows she can’t do that to Peter. Not right now. He asked her to keep his identity safe, to keep Chris safe, and that’s the least she can do when her nephew is out saving the world every night.

“I need you to stay at the apartment, please I- I know you want to come, but I need you here. I’ll be back in a few days. I just - I’m sorry, I need to go.” She kisses him, soft and quick and rushes out the door before he can protest.

-/-/-

Unable to process the night’s frightening turn of events, Chris is left standing at the doorway. He had called multiple hospitals looking for Peter, but none of them seemed to have anyone that matched his description. It wasn’t until May called the next morning saying that Peter was okay and recovering at the Avengers Compound, that he figured out why.

Why is he at The Avengers Compound, May? That’s insane he had said, but she acted as if it was normal, saying that Tony preferred treating him there. When he asked about what happened, she said it was an unfortunate wrong place, wrong time, but that it didn’t matter now because he was okay.

Now, five days later, Peter and May were coming home. He waits inside the apartment for them, pacing the living room as he cleans the countertops for the seventh time in the few days they’ve been gone. He can hear laughter down the hall and it takes him a moment to realize it’s them. Peter is rambling excitedly about something - he can’t tell what - and he stops as the door opens. What he doesn’t expect is to see Tony Stark behind her, his arm around Peter’s shoulder, beaming at a perfectly healthy, energetic kid. It throws him for a loop how domestic they look.

Like a family.

And that’s when it hits him. The internship, the nights at the Compound, the easy banter, Stark taking care of him after he’s injured. Chris pauses his inner monologue, sweeping the group from head to toe with his gaze. “Wait…Is Peter Tony’s secret son or something?”

Fin

#irondad fic #spiderson fic #irondad and spiderson #iron dad and spider son #peter parker #tony stark #alex writes #my writing #let me know if you like this please #may parker #in this house we love and respect aunt may #irondad and spiderson fic #iron dad and spider-son

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