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quillquiver · 4 years

Text

On SPN, Burying Your Gays, and Being Heard

I am shaking, I feel sick, I feel like I’m insane. And did I run a little wild with the theories? You bet. But you know what didn’t help? The botched clusterfuck that was this entire goddamn finale debacle. How was I supposed to believe anything they said in panels when M&G dialogue would leak saying the exact opposite? How was I supposed to grieve and move on when there was nothing from the cast and crew? Nobody said anything! And any info leaked just destabilized what we already knew or directly contradicted what we’d been told. In light of that, how was I supposed to trust anything anyone said? One rogue translator reciprocated the love confession and I was practically sold, because there were so many questions surrounding the English text that this was something good, something that logically fit, and something I wanted to hold onto.

Because they hurt me. This is about so much more than one episode or a ship; for years queer fans have seen ourselves in these characters and been told that we were crazy. That we were reading too much into it. I’m not sure how people get upset and offended when a storyline that doesn’t exist... doesn’t exist! said Guy Bee (2013). And then, after all of that, they turned around and said magnanimously, you have your version, I have mine... and that’s okay. But it’s not okay. It’s not okay, because that doesn’t erase what came before - that doesn’t erase the baiting and the gaslighting, and that invalidates everything we felt in the time leading up to that episode. It gave them an open window for all the subtext that came after. It allowed them to brush us off.

And then we got Cas’s love confession. I watched that scene about 500 times. Added to the rest of the season - to the fandom avatar being presented as successful and intelligent, to arc being the death of the author - I felt seen. Really seen, by a show that made it its mission to erase me. I had been okay with Cas dying at first because I had been sure the romance arc would carry through. I had been convinced that after everything, there was no way they would give that to us and then take it away.

But they did, because this is Supernatural. To anyone saying this is not bury your gays, I implore you to read up on the Hays Code. This link is to an amazing queer history podcast and the episode that covers it. In short, the Hays Code was a legal document that came about in 20th Century Hollywood during the puritanical war on the American entertainment industry, and it stipulated what was not allowed on screen. Not all of it was queer - there’s a whole section about kissing - but what the Code is most remembered for is that queerness was not allowed on screen. But queer people are resilient, and so they started testing the waters... and it turned out that you could in fact code queerness into a narrative, as long as it was subtextual, or as long as the queer character died/was punished, or both. The point is that the character is not allowed to live their truth openly. They are buried, either in the ground or punished in the narrative. The former is normally what we refer to these days, because the latter just doesn’t really happen anymore.

Until Supernatural.

Castiel is immediately punished for speaking his truth - and please don’t tell me he leveraged that punishment and so he had agency. Literally the only thing that could make him happy was confessing his feelings, and so the Empty deal was directly related to this idea of queerness-as-punishment. That being said, Bobo wrote a beautiful scene. Cas’s confession was a love letter to queerness and coming out... but everything that came after buried him. Castiel may have ended the series alive but he was effectively written out of the last two episodes, and that means that he actually never really got to live his truth. He was silenced by the narrative - that is punishment.

Dean is a whole other can of worms. Does one rogue translator confirm canon bi!Dean? Or do we have to read our own version of the text? The fact that we even have to ask these questions firmly places us in the realm of queerbaiting. Were the writers trying to get bi!Dean approved but were unable to? I have no idea, but queerbaiting requires proof that the writers encouraged a reading they had no intent of following through on, and we certainly don’t lack in evidence of that. Not from this writers room, but from those of previous eras. Did these writers try? They might have, but the funny thing about queerbaiting discourse is that there has never been a show to bait this long, and I’m making the call that even if you tried at the end, you baited me with half the ship and all the years that came before.

Of course, the narrative leaves open the possibility of bi!Dean so if you do read the show that way, that means Dean also falls into the bury your gays category; if you read the show this way - which many of us do - the mere suggestion that Dean Winchester was bisexual was enough to punish him. And he was punished. We’ve all written extensively on this, but he was given a random death, on a case his father never finished. All that growth, all that time spent having him accept himself, love himself, that was all taken away. He died the way he always thought he would: as a tool, in service of his father, protecting his brother. He had always believed he’d been a body to throw on the sword and in the end that’s all he was. And when he gets to Heaven? He’s also silenced. He barely speaks in the episode except to monologue during his death, and that is 100% Sam-centric. He is scared.

It was horrific to watch. I sobbed so hard my roommate was seriously concerned.

I had been fully prepared for Supernatural to end disappointingly. I had figured everything would end with a huge heaven reunion because white, straight, cis-male S&F writers love the idea of death as a reward, but instead of being disappointed I felt like I had witnessed a slaughter. Every single one of the queer themes intrinsic to the show: found family, resilience, speaking your truth... were gone. And I know we’ve talked about this too, but it bears repeating, because in doing this, in writing the queerness out of its narrative, Supernatural effectively looked every one of us queer folx in the eye and said: you are not important. You don’t matter. All of that stuff that came before is all good and well, but what really matters at the end of all things is blood family. It’s two brothers in a car. Life sucks but at least we get to die and go to paradise - real paradise, that your angel buddy died for and then made for you and who we never hear from again.

I felt insane. I felt cheated. I felt humiliated. I felt devastated. I still feel all those things, but listen to me. You have been heard. Not by Misha Collins, who is a great guy, but doesn’t get it. Not by Jensen Ackles, who is a similarly great guy, but also just doesn’t understand. And not by anyone else who worked on this show.

You know who heard you? Me. The people who follow me. The people who follow you. We saw each other, and heard each other, and we gave each other a leg up. We made memes. We wrote fic. We drew fanart. We made gifs. All for ourselves and all for each other. We broke Tumblr multiple times. We donated over $60,000 USD to multiple different causes. We got multiple hashtags trending at multiple different points, and today kept it up because we demanded answers and then we got them. There were at least 5 articles written about the show today. We made that happen. We made people listen.

Supernatural didn’t deserve me, and it didn’t deserve you. It didn’t deserve Dean. It didn’t deserve Cas. It didn’t deserve Misha and Jensen. But this show ended with a bleak, awful message and we turned around and showed them that love is loud. So what about all of this is real?

We are.

#alex talks #spngate #archived #this was very therapeutic #and i honestly don't know if i will ever be able to love something like this again #because i have been burned oh man #but this fandom is amazing #and i am proud to be a part of it #and i am not going anywhere #journaling #15x18 #15x19 #15x20 #castiel #dean winchester #destiel

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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

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give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

“Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

“I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #no eps this week but i finally finished this haha!#pls enjoy <3 #also thank u niamh and ajit for helps with all the reasons amy would be crying!!!#oh also the three people who voted on the title thank you

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akakeiiji · 4 years

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Hi! This is my first time requesting something, i was wondering if you could do headcanons or reactions for Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, sugawara and Nishinoya who have an s/o who is a medical student and works as a paramedic in her free time and tends their injuries after games or durning them, especially oikawa 😔🙏🏻

Omg anon, if this ask is based off of you then you are amazing!! Keep up the great work!

Also I finally broke through my creative block and actually wrote something, I actually finished these hcs a few days ago but my laptop died before I could post so I had to start from scratch huhu (having to start over drained me so much hence why this took so long to post)

✂︎・・・masterlist

-`,✎Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, Sugawara and Nishinoya’s reaction to their S/O tending to their injuries

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa is the king of overworking himself

Even when he doesn’t have any matches to worry about, he’s in the gym practicing and practicing till he physically can’t anymore

It’s no wonder why he gets injured a lot, he just never knows when to stop

If it weren’t for you his body would be in horrible shape

You always know what to say and do to get him to stop practicing for the day, and you’re always the one tending to his sore and exhausted body ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He loves flexing you, he needs everyone to know how smart you are

When I say everyone, I mean everyone

You turn around for a bit and he’s suddenly telling the cashier how amazing you are for being a paramedic

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa is actually very smart so sometimes he’ll study with you in his free time, helping you out by quizzing you and stuff

He studies your material sometimes, idly reading through your papers and textbooks sometimes

He’ll just randomly blurt out random medical facts, which may or may not be a ploy to impress you

One day when it was reaching the end of a match, you could tell that something was wrong with Tooru, it wasn’t obvious but you knew when he was in pain

You internally screamed at him, urging him to sit the rest of the match out but this was Oikawa you were talking about

Luckily the match ended quickly after that with Oikawa’s team winning but he almost collapses from the sheer pain he was feeling on his leg, it had been acting up again from his old injury

You were absolutely livid because it wouldn't have been so bad if he stopped playing when it started hurting but you were too worried to lecture him

There are tears prickling his eyes but he’s still smiling and telling everyone he’ll be okay because you’re there

“They’re the best of best, they’ll be able to help me!”

He’d be bedridden for a while and, of course, you’d be by his side the entire time

You scolded him for an hour and he couldn’t run away so he had to endure it all

For the first few days, everything would be okay, but after a while, he starts getting restless and keeps trying to get up to do things by himself

You would physically restrain him to the bed if you could

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

JUST KIDDING….Unless

He wants nothing more than to go back to training, he’d literally start dreaming about volleyball on some nights

You have to constantly remind him that if he doesn't recover properly he’ll just worsen his leg so that he doesn’t run away while you’re at school or at work

“If it gets worse, they might have to amputate it.”

“What?! You can’t be serious…you’re joking, right?”

Since he can’t go out or train anymore, he spends the rest of his time trying to get your attention

He’s so pouty and whiny, always calling for you for no good reason

While you’re studying in the other room, he’ll suddenly call for you saying he needs you

When you go over to him, he’ll just be like: “I need you~” and you’d have to fight the urge to strangle him

He really just wants your attention, pls help him

In all seriousness though, he’s so thankful to you and truly appreciates what you do

While you’re checking on his leg one day, he’d take your gentle hands in his and pull you in for a hug

“Thank you for putting up with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“…also I need to pee.”

Akaashi Keiji

My son

My precious boy

It pains me to write about him getting hurt

He’s so supportive of you and your studies, he knows how hard studying medicine is

He always checks in on you when you’re studying or working

He’s the type of boyfriend that will give you little snacks while you’re working and remind you to take breaks

Whenever he feels sick or gets hurt, you’re the first one he calls because he trusts you the most and because he knows how capable you are

But this happens very rarely because he’s really careful and knows his limits

During one of his matches though, he suddenly falls over after setting a ball, clutching his leg

He’s immediately rushed over to the infirmary but when they arrive you’re already there wheezing and panting after running all the way there from the bleachers

The nurse tells you that he sprained his ankle pretty badly and that he’d recover just fine but you still felt so bad because you could see how much Akaashi was in pain

I'm legitimately hurting rn while writing this

After getting injured, he starts overthinking so fricking much

He’ll start thinking that he was pulling his team down and begin questioning his skills as a player

You literally have to slap some sense into him or he’ll just drown in his thoughts

You’ll have to cup his face in your hands and urge him to look at you while you tell him how much of an amazing player he is and how injuries like these are inevitable when playing sports

He’ll only start feeling better after this but he still needs a huge dose of your hugs and kisses to fully recover

Out of all the boys, he’s probably the easiest to take care of (he’s prolly tied with Suga)

He’s more obedient and doesn’t mind staying in bed for a long time

But at the same time, he’s so stubborn and says he doesn’t need your help

He just keeps thinking that he’s burdening you while you have so much on your plate

“I don’t need your help, love. I’m completely fine.”

“Keiji, there are literally tears in your eyes.”

He subconsciously gets clingier than usual as the days go by, always trying to get your attention

He isn’t as obvious as other ehem tooru and tries to do so in more subtle ways

Like he’ll just accidentally drop his book and when you go to pick it up he’ll pull you onto the bed and before you know it you’ve been cuddling for two hours straight

The extra affection is his own little way of saying thank you

While you’re checking on his injuries he’ll grab your hand with his and press your knuckles to his lips

“Thank you, love.”

My heart burst

Miya Atsumu

Oikawa part 2 but snarkier

He just doEsn’T kNow whEn to StOP

He always finds some nitty gritty detail he absolutely needs to fix during his regular practice and stays after hours to work on it

He can train for hours without realizing it, before he knows it it’s midnight, he’s the only soul left in the building and his legs are dying

Other times, when you arrive home to find your boyfriend missing, you immediately head over to his gym and drag him home

During a match, he dives down to save a ball only to crash on the ground awkwardly and injure his shoulder

He’s forced to leave the court after failing to convince the referee and his coach that he was fine and he was absolutely livid

Not at them but at himself

He thinks that the injury was a sign that he was slacking off or losing his edge

He goes off on a tangent about how he needs to practice more and how he can’t afford to waste time

Nobody could calm him down until you arrived

After you got there and talked some sense into him, he finally complies and lets himself be lead away to the infirmary

He’s down in the dumps for at least a week, usually found grumbling at the tv, unsure of what to do with this unprecedented free time

But soon after a lot of talks lectures with you and food sent by his brother, he starts going back to his usual old self

He’s absolutely basking in this extra attention from you, he secretly loves being doted on

It used to really irk him when he finds he can’t do certain things with his injury like opening a jar

But once it dawns on him that you’re there, he will totally abuse this just to get your attention and to bother you

“Hey, can you help me open the fridge?”

“You can do that by yourself.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON’T HELP YOUR INJURED BOYFRIEND.”

Whenever you’re checking on his shoulder, he always distracts you by kissing your lips or neck while you’re trying to be a good s/o and it always ends up in a makeout session or more

Because he’s got so much more free time, he’s usually found in your shared apartment, clinging onto you while you’re studying waiting for you to finish

“Are you ready to dote on me?”

“No, be patient.”

“>:’(”

When the doctor tell him he’s fully recovered, the first thing he does is lift you in his arms and twirl you around

Sugawara Koushi

Precious bby

This mama bear rarely gets injured, he’s usually the one nursing others

You two are like this wonderful duo with magic curing hands

He absolutely loves that you’re pursuing your dreams of being in the medical field and low-key shows you off to everyone he knows

Especially to his parents, they love you almost as much as they love him don't tell him that tho

He’s really careful while playing because he hates being in pain, like more so than the average person if you get what I mean

While blocking though, he ends up injuring his wrists from the sheer strength of the spike and the not so ideal positioning of his arms

He has tears in his eyes while he’s being brought to the infirmary and your heart literally broke as you watched from the sidelines

He was stuck with a wrist splint for a couple of weeks

Like Atsumu he constantly needs your help to do mundane things like open cans and such

Unlike Atsumu though, he’s less whiny and more distraught over the fact that he’s always being doted on

He isn’t used to being the one taken care of

He always tries not to burden you and always tries to do things by himself

“Koushi! What was that crash I heard?”

“Nothing! Don’t mind me, just focus on your work.”

“WHY ARE YOU COOKING!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMNIT—”

He broke two plates that day trying to make your favorite meal

Apparently cooking with a splint is pretty difficult, he takes note of this

He becomes guilty when you do things like cook and clean, he tries to help as best he can but you always tell him to just sit back and relax but he jUSt cAn’T

He doesn’t want you to worry about stuff like that because you need to study!! He feels so helpless sometimes

While you’re cooking dinner, you’ll just turn to the side and do a double take when you see him staring at you with wide, concerned eyes

“What?”

“I want to help :(”

He’s literally the living embodiment of this emoji: 🥺

You let him help with little stuff like stirring and watching the pot while you cut the vegetables and stuff

He immediately feels better after this, he wants to feel at least a little bit helpful

At the end of the day, while you two are in bed, he’ll nudge closer to you and pepper your face with kisses

“What was that for?”

“I just love you so much, thank you.”

Nishinoya Yuu

Sorry but everyone at the ER is on a first-name basis with Nishinoya

LISTEN HE’S SO CHAOTIC AND WILD, HE ALWAYS GETS HIMSELF INTO DUMB SITUATIONS

His grandfather didn’t even bat an eye when the school nurse would call him informing him that Nishinoya managed to break his arm during his math exam don’t ask

When he found out about your studies and your job he was so giddy and kept telling you that it was fate and that you two completed each other

He’s literally the proudest boyfriend that you could ever have, always telling everyone about how smart and talented you are

“Yeah, you may be a rocket scientist but you will never be as smart as my s/o!”

“Yuu, what are you doing—”

He loves having a smart s/o, he’s always being wowed by your vast knowledge

You can always find him silently cheering you in the corner while you’re studying

Basically, he’s your number one fan and supporter

Asides from that, he’s also your number one patient

Whenever he gets hurt, you’re the first one he turns to, he tells you it’s good practice and that it’s helping you improve your skills in an attempt to stop you for scolding him

One time, he sprained his elbow while trying to do some new move he saw on tv

Insert vine: I don’t care that you broke your elbow

Except you do care, a lot in fact

He’s lowkey tearing up when being rushed to the infirmary because it hurts but mostly because he just wants to play

You have to be so strict and stern with him

He’s so energetic and bouncy, he definitely doesn’t respond well to being bound with bandages or slings

If it weren’t for you, he probably would have worsened his injuries, but he’s a huge simp so he listens to everything you say…mostly

Since he can’t use his energy for volleyball and sports, he’ll direct that energy towards giving you attention

He becomes sooo affectionate and clingy, he just wants to shower you with love

He gets restless often, whenever he does he’ll plop down beside you and wrap his good arm around your waist while you’re working as a way to remind himself to stay put and to not jump out the window from boredom

“Kiss my boo-boo?”

“What are you? Five?”

Unlike the others, he’s very very open about how thankful he is to have you taking care of him, he would scream it out the window if you would let him

He reminds you every day how blessed he is to have you, at the most random of times actually

“Can you open this bottle for me?”

“Sure.”

“GOD, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU?”

“CALM DOWN—”

He’s so in love, please save him

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kiriluvbot · 3 years

Text

NO ONE ASKED BUT IM HERE TO SUPPLY ANYWAY!

sero hanta headcanons for the soul

- asexual, pan-romantic!

- uses they/he pronouns (didn’t know they could have different pronouns until he met tokoyami, and they spent their entire first year having a crisis over it)

- i know it’s old and overused but this kid is a hufflepuff, through and through

- CHILD OF APHRODITE. i take no criticism.

- a heartthrob among his entire grade, not just class A, but B as well, and the general course, and the business course,, AND the support course. everyone loves sero hanta.

- a natural charmer but is literally not aware that they make everyone within a 400 meter radius of them swoon

- until kaminari tells him in their second year. homie. youre fucking hot. and mina says, use it to your advantage. SO HE DOES.

- third year sero hanta is a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you. using their charm along with their natural ability to just. Befriend anyone (including a brick WALL tbh) to get his way. they get their way, they Know Everything. everyone knows his name by the time he graduates.

- The Older Sibling friend. not quite the mom friend or even the dad friend, but the older sibling. he’s a constant source of comfort and dependability among his class, but theyre also an agent of chaos that likes to cause problems On Purpose just to see what’ll happen. they never get caught being the instigator tho. no one can ever catch him.

- likes to watch aforementioned chaos from the sidelines. a mediator and an excellent negotiator. keeps his friends (cough, bakugo) from murdering each other or other people (cough, monoma)

- i like to think he’s the eldest child with two or three younger sisters and maybe a baby brother. their parents divorced right before sero started high school, and he and his siblings live with their mom. she’s a real lovely lady.

- since he’s the eldest, he kinda knows how to take care of people. sick people, sad people, hungry people. they can read and understand people really well if they really matter to him.

- most of the time there’s just wii music in their head tho

- they weren’t super great at prioritizing themselves/taking care of themselves when he first moved in to the dorms, but with time and help from his friends, they keep getting better at it

- sero gets his looks from his dad and his attitude from his mother. again, i imagine she’s a real lovely lady.

- their love language is physical touch! with so many younger siblings and his natural Eldest Sibling Vibe, it’s only natural for him to be super cuddly and affectionate!

- while it may not be their love language, sero also probably really likes spending quality time with his friends. they like going out, they like being loud and having a blast, but the kid also wouldn’t mind sitting in his room with his friends in silence while everyone did their own individual thing.

- the kind of person that sleeps with one pillow only and one blanket only

- probably runs warm, kicks off the blanket in the summer time. either sleeps on his back stretched out like a starfish or curled into themselves like a baby. no in between.

- has a pair of underwear they call their “lucky underwear” and it’s just a pair with spider-man’s face as the pattern.

- the kid does not have regular chairs in his dorm. it’s bean bags or the floor, man.

- they also have a hammock . i’ve seen this repeating trope in every single fic i’ve ever read

- keeps a stash of snacks in his room! but it’s a trade system. kaminari gets m&ms for cheek kisses, kirishima gets beef jerky for his most rib crushing hug, and todoroki gets gummy worms if he shares his manga.

- has led lights that are connected to his speaker and changes color every time a song changes

- has only three playlists. only three.

- they’re titled, respectively: “u yearning bastard,,” “monch monch”, “for pissing bkg off”

- he still listens to the jonas brothers, lots of big time rush, but also fleetwood mac and abba. frank ocean, lorde,,,, but also. they know every word to both mama mia soundtracks.

- absolutely adores horror + romance movies and not much else

- he tries getting into star wars for kirishima’s sake but he literally cannot keep up with the plot for shit.

- can quote the entirety of the notebook with mina (it infuriates bakugo to no end when those two ask to watch it for the fifth time in a week)

- has never tried an energy drink in their life, absolutely refuses to because caffeine makes him Shake and he hates the feeling

- drinks a lot of tea tho! with momo and todoroki!

- favorite snack is oranges. this kid always has oranges.

- aside from satou and bakugo, sero is probably one of the best cooks in their class

- resident pretty boy. did i mention everyone loves them? seriously. he even has the ever so stoic shouto todoroki pining after him.

- had a huge growth spurt the summer after second year began. it pissed off all their friends because he finally passed 6’ while the others were still stuck at 5’9 or below.

- by graduation, sero reached 6’3, and bakugo was still mad, because bakugo never passed 5’10.

- really grew into himself by the end of high school, finally learning how they wanted to express themselves with his clothing style, hair and *clenches fist* piercings

- started painting his nails the summer before their third year and hasnt stopped

- glorious, curly mullet. bejeweled hair pins. jean jackets and platform docs. piercings all the way up his ears. a nose ring and a smiley. (if you don’t know what a smiley is, i beg you to search it up. it’s the cutest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life and i want one so bad)

- ochaco is the one who cuts sero’s hair in third year.

- he got most of his piercings alongside bakugo or kaminari, but when they went to get the nose ring, they’d gone with iida and midoriya. and when he got the smiley, he went with todoroki, who squeezed his hand when the needle went through, even if todoroki wasn’t the one getting pierced.

- one time he and denki shaved their legs and arms and Everything to see if it would make them “more aerodynamic” ( “haha dont u mean /sero/dynamic?” “shut up”)

- strangely flexible. everywhere. it makes shouji shiver and jirou gag. it makes todoroki stare with wide, disbelieving eyes.

- really bad handwriting. like. what the fuck.

- that doesn’t stop them from writing cards for each of his friends for their birthdays, for christmas. it doesn’t stop them from writing letters to todoroki (even if he ended up shredding them and throwing them away after they were finished so no one would ever find them. he wanted to ask bakugo to incinerate them, just to be safe, but they didn’t want bakugo, or anyone else, that he had written love letters to shouto todoroki.)

(....not until after they confessed and finally started dating in their third year.)

- finger guns. unironically.

- is a surprisingly good dancer and a passable singer!!!!!!!!

- sings in the shower. also dances in the shower, but one time they fell and hit the wall connecting his and todoroki’s room, and todoroki thought he might’ve died. came to his door and didn’t bother knocking to check and see if they were alright. sero didn’t dance in the shower for a long time after that.

- his favorite color is yellow, but they also really, really like red.

- doesn’t have a fucking phone case on their phone.

- earbuds falling apart but he just keeps putting more tape over them because they really don’t wanna buy new ones (kirishima bought him a pair for christmas because he didn’t want sero to get electrocuted from broken earbuds. sero ensured him he would likely not get electrocuted just from some earbuds, but took the gift anyway)

- smell checks their clothes like a HEATHEN

- is in love with shouto todoroki.

that’s all :) sero hanta is my number one best boy and i love them dearly.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero #sero headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #sero hanta headcanons #long post #bakusquad

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years

Text

Perception pt. 1

The Company x Reader

I’ve always had the idea that, while men and elves seem to like the slimmer built type of women, dwarves and hobbits like theirs a little more curvy/voluptuous (whatever term you like). Maybe it’s all the eating and beer drinking that makes me think that lol. Anyway....the human reader would be confused at first about why literally the entire company is acting like major show offs. But, once she figures this out she uses it to her amusement/advantage. There doesn’t have to be a specific pairing, or you can pick one yourself if you feel like it. ---middleearth2asgard

---

Fat.

Ugly.

Pig.

These seem to be some of the favorite insults of those who didn't like you in your past life on earth.

The stereotype that every woman must be and look a certain way, be a certain height and have a certain weight, has always weighed you down heavily; and while you often pretended that it didn't hurt you very much and you did your best to ignore it, at some point you began to believe those things.

A person can only go on for so long hearing something before their beliefs change, after all.

Obviously, you're not ugly in the slightest, for all people are beautiful when their lovely on the inside. Not to mention, physical attraction is merely something based on opinion. Ever heard of the saying 'beauty lies in the eye of the beholder'?

In this specific group though, everything is a lot different.

Not that you particularly know it, but for them you've got to be the prettiest thing around.

Healthy is the way the see you, healthy, strong, and gorgeous, and that topped with you wonderful personality... well, they're done for.

Not all of them, obviously, because some are married, unaware, or just not interested, but that doesn't mean they don't like you or anything like that.

The first time Kili called you pretty, you got angry and told him to stop teasing you.

When his brother did the same a few hours later, you became furious and refused to speak with them for the rest of the day.

Balin asked you why you were in such a bad mood that night, and when you explained it to him he only smiled and shook his head, telling you in a soft and understanding voice. "I do not understand how you feel of yourself, my dear, but please rest assured that they were not teasing you. You're lovely."

Since Balin was the one who said it you kinda felt obligated to believe him, and so that next morning you sought out the sheepish brothers and apologized for getting so angry, though you offered no explanation to your behavior.

When Bofur called you lovely one afternoon, you didn't get as angry though you did deny it, mumbling something about your weight before riding off away from him.

Dwalin's compliment of you was more of a gruff, "You look nice today," and it embarrassed you and only uttered a disbelieving, 'okay' in response.

Eventually, you grew more used to the compliments given to you on your appearance, though you preferred the ones about liking your cooking or laugh more so since you could actually believe in someone liking that.

Little did you know, however, that your reluctance to have faith in their praises has sparked quite a bit of debate amongst them, and rather quickly did an agreement to show you how lovely you truly are come to be.

Another thing you've noticed besides the constant compliments, is the boastful and swanky behavior of some of them (like Thorin's nephews, Dwalin, Bofur, Thorin himself sometimes, and even sweet Ori to name a few).

Truthfully, you find it to be pretty funny. How they'll randomly challenge each other and walk around all big headed when they win one of those challenges, showing off their skills and boasting.

It's pretty funny though you don't really know why they do it, and you haven't really bothered to ask about it either so...

---

"Hey, Y/N!" Someone calls suddenly, capturing your attention from the conversation you were having with Gloin, "Watch this!"

You turn toward the noise and see Fili and Kili looking at you with matching grins.

As soon as your attention is on them, Fili pulls out some bite-sized dried mutton and aims as Kili runs a few paces ahead. Fili throws the food and Kili follows it with his mouth open, catching it perfectly.

A bright smile spreads across your face and you clap your hands a couple of times, "Wow! If I couldn't do better, I'd probably be impressed!" You exclaim, unable to keep the confidence from your voice.

Kili's bright smile melts into a frown and he furrows his eyebrows, meanwhile Fili just raises an eyebrow and asks skeptically. "You can do better?"

"I sure can. I can catch food in my mouth from almost any distance." You say as a smile spreads across your face, fondly remembering all the grapes and marshmallows that you've 'trained' with over the years. It's just a natural talent, really.

"You don't mind if I put that to the test now, do you?" He challenges, pulling off another bite sized piece of his mutton.

Oh, he really thinks he's gonna psyche you out right now? You are so about to put this mans in his place. "Not in the slightest! Hit me with your best shot, pretty boy!" You exclaim rather assertively.

You drop what you're doing and jump up to your feet, stepping back further a few paces.

"Wait, you're going really far." Fili warns, looking at you in perplexity.

"Are you afraid you don't have the arm for it?" You taunt, crossing your arms over your chest with a smirk quirking at your lips.

His eye twitches in annoyance at your teasing, but he only pulls his arm back to show he's ready. "Well, you asked for it."

You drop your arms back to your side and watch his hand carefully, and when he finally throws it and it sails through the air you keep your eyes trained on it the whole time.

As it grows closer you adjust your stance and position, and then you open your mouth when it's less than a second away and...

It lands right in your mouth!

You throw your arms up in the air and cheer, chewing the hard jerky while everyone else looks on in amazement.

Once the mutton is swallowed you smile brightly and drop your hands back to your sides, "I told you!"

"T-That was astounding!" The blond dwarf breathes, looking over at his brother with the same look of shock and admiration on his face.

Right before you respond a small voice in the back of your head whispers, 'Now they know how you got to be such a pig.' And the grin immediately falls from your face.

"No... it wasn't anything." You deny softly, walking back forward to grab your things.

Your sudden change in demeanor is almost as shocking as the hidden talent you just displayed, and as soon as you walk droopily over to the items you discarded they began to exchange confused and slightly concerned glances with one another.

For the majority of the day, you don't say anything else.

---

That night when dinner time rolled around you hesitated to eat anything.

In fact, you fully intended not to have anything at all if it weren't for the fact that Thorin approached you and reminded you that you haven't eaten yet.

Obviously, you cannot tell the leader of the group 'no' to eating like a petulant child, so you concede and get a bowl for yourself and, ultimately, give your left overs to Bofur despite him insisting that you finish your own food.

It was the same story the next morning at breakfast.

You kinda poked at your food, had a few mouthfuls, then gave the rest to someone else.

Of course, that didn't go by unnoticed either.

---

After everyone picks up on your odd mannerisms and realize that there's something deeper going on, they end up having a conversation about it while you're out bathing in the river away from everyone else.

"The lass has been acting awfully odd, recently..." Dwalin brought up suddenly while everyone settles in for the night, catching everyones attention in no time.

"She has, but does anyone know why?" Nori adds, his eyebrows furrowing.

Everything is quiet as they think it over, trying to find out what has changed.

"Maybe the compliments are bothering her?" Ori offers quietly, his head tilted slightly to the side.

Balin shakes his head a bit, taking a puff from his pipe before adding, "Yes, but she's always been rather touchy about acclamation and flattery. It has to be something else."

"Well, after we bet her on catching food in her mouth is when she started being all weird." Kili pipes up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or at least, it developed more. She's never refused dinner before."

Thorin listens along quietly, occasionally taking a puff from his briar while he too tries to figure it out.

"Let's put all of our facts together, hows about?" Balin suggests, leaning forward a bit. "She refuses to accept compliments on her appearance, she expresses a skillset and shuts down, and she won't eat properly."

Once more there is silence as they consider the facts, and then Bilbo adds, "The food catching skill, right?" He sounds like he's onto something, and the brighter of them see what he's getting at.

Balin nods his head slowly, stroking his beard gently, "Yes...," he begins, "Well, this is less concerning than I thought. I was worried she was sick, at first."

Thorin nods his head, putting his pipe down as he leans forward and finally speaks, "As was I. It's still bothers me though..."

"What? What bothers you?" Bofur asks, looking between those who seem to understand what's going on.

"I don't get it either." Kili adds, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"The lass doesn't value herself, my boy." Balin explains in a quiet voice, his expression grim.

"Oh..."

"Well what are we going to do about it?" Fili asks, crossing his arms over his chest with his own pipe hanging from his hand.

"There isn't much we can do other than show our appreciation and express our disagreement with her self evaluation." The older dwarf explains.

Everyone nods, and at that moment they decide the best course of action is to prove you otherwise.

#thorins company #tolkien #the hobbit fanfiction #kili #fili #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #bilbo #bilbo baggins #fili x reader #kili x reader #bofur x reader #bofur #bilbo x reader #thorin x reader #dwalin x reader #dwalin #the company x reader

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

The Day He Was Waiting For (e.b.)

Summary: it’s the best day of bucks’s life.

AN: i love 911, it literally has taken over my entire life, the spin off included and Buck owns my heart. i’m not expecting this to blow up but i needed to share my love for Evan Buckley. and thanks to Vanderpump Rules, i’m in dream wedding mode so forgive me.

Buck stood in front of the mirror in his room, straightening out the fancy suit he was wearing.

“Well don’t you look spiffy.” Eddie said entering the room. Buck chuckled lightly as he adjusted the tie. “How do I look?” He asked his best friend.

Eddie smiled happily before replying. “You look real handsome. Never thought I’d see you in a suit like this.” He answered. “Today’s the day. How do you feel?” Eddie added. “I’m ready for the rest of my life to start.” Buck replied.

“And that’s about to happen in ten minutes.” Eddie said. “Buck, are you ready?” Maddie asked before she got a good look at her little brother. Tears began to well in her eyes as she looked at Buck. “Maddie, don’t. Don’t cry yet, the wedding hasn’t even started.” He said. “I’m sorry, it’s just my baby brother is getting married.” She replied, going to hug Buck.

“Guys, Buck has to be standing at the alter in less than five minutes or Y/N is going to lose it.” Eddie interrupted. Buck let out a short breath as he finalized his appearance.

Maddie left the room, Buck and Eddie following behind.

Chimney, Bobby and Hen were already sitting in their seats at the venue when Buck walked up towards the alter. “Never thought I’d see the day where Buck was getting married.” Chim joked. “But if he were to marry anyone it would be Y/N.” Hen added.

“You need to be standing at the alter. Y/N is ready to go behind those doors.” Maddie interjected.

Buck’s heart began to race as he took his place at the front of the room. He never imagined he would be getting married at 28 but there he was. Standing in a fancy suit, in front of all the people he cared about who loved the two of you.

On the other side of the doors, you were pacing slightly as you waited for your bouquet. Maddie had it in a vase for you so the flowers wouldn’t wilt just yet.

“Why are you pacing? Are you gonna run?” Your friend and maid of honor asked you. “No, I’m not going to run. I’m just nervous but the good kind of nervous. Maddie is getting the bouquet.” You answered. “Here it is! I have it!” Maddie called, handing you your bouquet. You took it gratefully as your maid of honor was fixing your veil and you were smoothing out your dress.

“Are you ready?” Maddie asked. “Oh I’ve been ready.” You said with a small laugh. Before you could even take a step towards the wooden doors, Eddie comes through panting. “What the hell is going on?” You asked. “Your uncle and Buck’s uncle are uh, sparring.” Eddie answered.

You saw Buck and Bobby trying to pull the two grown men from each other You clenched your jaw and pushed Eddie out of the way before stomping down the aisle towards your fighting relatives.

“Okay, stop!” You yelled. “This is supposed to be a wedding. My wedding. And I don’t want you two fighting over your difference in football teams at my wedding. So if there is one more punch thrown before this ceremony even starts, I will have you arrested. Our officiate is a cop after all.” You ranted.

The room fell silent as you let out a frustrated sigh. You looked over at Buck and saw that his hand was over his eyes so he wouldn’t see you in your wedding dress. “Buck, why are you covering your eyes?” You asked. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding with our track record of disastrous events, I’m not taking any chances.” He explained.

People began to chuckle as you smiled to yourself. “Well then I don’t want to keep you waiting.” You spoke.

After you regrouped and everyone was calm and collected, the music played and everyone stood up. The doors opened and you and Bobby walked down the aisle.

Bobby was giving you away because he was like family for as long as you’ve known him and sadly, your dad passed away during 9/11. Ever since you brought Buck home to meet your mother, she always thought that your dad helped whatever higher power there was, to put the two of your together.

Buck saw you and he felt like the whole world stopped spinning. No matter how cliche it sounds, it was like everyone watching just disappeared and it was just you and him.

He cleared his throat and told himself not to cry because of his pride. But then he thought screw his pride, and let a couple of stray tears fall.

You hugged Bobby when you got to the alter and handed Maddie your bouquet. She was your maid of honor because you didn’t have sisters and Maddie was always closest to you.

The ceremony went as usual until it came for the two of you to read your vows. Buck went first and pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket.

“Y/N, when I met you, you were just the girl I had a crush on. The funny, beautiful, independent but stubborn girl. My mom always told me that the one was going to find me unexpectedly. And you were definitely unexpected. But in the best way possible. You changed my life and made me believe in love again. When I look at you, I see my future. I see us in a house in the suburbs with the dog you’ve always wanted. I see you being the mother of my children and I see us spending the rest of our lives together. We’ve been through hell and back and we ended up here. Because we were supposed to end up here. I love you, Y/F/N Y/L/N and I can’t wait until we have the same last name.” Buck finished.

You were trying your best not to smear your makeup because you still had pictures to take after the ceremony.

“I had a hole in my heart for 18 years. A missing piece that I thought would always be there. I didn’t smile the same, laugh the same, act the same. But then I met you, Buck and you changed everything. You make me happy in a way no one else can. You’re the reason why I’m smiling again. And the best part is, you don’t even have to try to make me smile. You do that by simply loving me. My mom always said that my dad was helping whatever higher power there is and drove us together. He would want me to be with a firefighter,” You started. People chuckling at your comments about your dad.

“Evan Buckley you are my moon, my stars and everything in between and I will spend the rest of my life loving you.” You finished.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the place after the two of exchanges vows.

Buck looked at you as you smiled and was just hoping that the officiator would hurry up so he could kiss you.

“Can I kiss her yet?” Buck asked. Everyone laughed at his question, you included. “Not yet. We’re getting there.” Athena said.

Athena was officiating your wedding because you and Buck shared her in common when you started dating. You were a doctor at the hospital and ran into both of them numerous times. It was only a matter of time before you did something about it.

“Now, Do you Evan Buckley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?” She continued. “I do.” Buck answered.

“Do you Y/F/N Y/L/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?” Athena asked you. “I do.” You answered.

“The rings please.” Athena asked.

Maddie stepped forward and handed you Buck’s ring while Eddie handed Buck your wedding band.

“Now Buck, repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge you my love, now and forever. ” Athena said. “Y/N, with this ring I thee wed, and pledge my love now and forever.” Buck repeated as he slid the ring on your finger. “Y/N, repeat after me: Evan, with this ring I thee wed, and pledge my love now and forever.” She said.

You repeated his words and slid the silver ring on Buck’s finger. “By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Athena finished.

“About damn time.” Buck commented before kissing you deeply. The guests cheered and applauded as you and Buck sealed your marriage.

When the two of you parted, he took your hand and the two of you walked back down the aisle. Ready to start the rest of your lives together.

#imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #911 fox #911 season 3 #911 imagine #911 lone star

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction || Best Friends Brother

A/n: for real! I try and aim for like 600 words each and then others are just like NAH BRO YOU GONNA HAVE 800-900 A PIECE. Like I’m sorry if some are shorter than the other, I don’t mean them to be. I love all 7 of my boys, they all cute and all deserve love

Seokjin:

You’d grown up with your best friend, you spent every moment you could together since the moment you could both walk, she had an older brother named Seokjin, everyone called him Jin though but you didn’t, you called him Seokjin because you knew it annoyed him a little, in retaliation he called you Midge, short for midget, claiming it was just right for you. You both constantly teased one another and bickered like an old married couple, everyone, including your best friend, always said you’d be together but you could never imagine it, no after so many years of knowing him, you’d practically grown up alongside him.

You had been single your entire life, not that there was anything wrong with that but you were 23 years old and still hadn’t had your first kiss, or held someone’s hand who didn’t love you like a little sister or was your literal family member. You were starting to think there was something wrong with you, you never voiced this opinions to anyone else because…you didn’t want to seem like you were bothered by it, many people were single until their late 30’s, some never even got married and it’s not like you weren’t trying, you were. But it was as if Men stayed away from you as if you had a huge sign above your head telling them to stay away. In reality, it wasn’t a giant sign above your head, it was Jin, he was constantly telling guys to stay away from you, that you were bad news or that you had someone else. Whenever someone new would come along and take interest in you, he would threaten them. He couldn’t stand to see you with someone else who wasn’t him, even if you weren’t together yet.

“Is there something wrong with me?” You asked one night, you’d been drinking with your friend all night and she went out to buy more booze, you were sat on the sofa next to Jin who was playing video games alone, you laid your head down on his shoulder to stop the room from spinning so much and he looked at you, a small smile turning on his lips as he watched your eyelids flutter shut.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled pausing his game and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, you giggled snuggling against him and wanting to lay there all night.

“I’ve been single my entire life…maybe I’m broken, maybe I’m supposed to just grow old and buy a cat.” You whispered, sobering up a little as the moments passed and you began to think everything over.

“I don’t think you’re broken.” He murmured, now feeling guilty for every guy he pushed away from you, maybe it was wrong for him to push them away, it’s not like you were stopping girls from getting to him.

“I should join a dating app like your sister, maybe I’ll find someone that way.” You took out your phone but he swatted it again,

“No!” You blinked at him, and then looked at your phone that was now on the floor facing up.

“No?” You questioned, he bit down on his lip debating to tell you everything he’d been feeling since the moment you turned 16, the moment you changed the way he thought about you.

“Seeing you with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.” You stared at him confused for a second, he continued talking.

“I’ve liked you since you were 16…You did that stupid dance mash-up with my sister and you looked dorky and cute…I fell hard and there’s nothing wrong with you, it’s what’s wrong with me.” You were still trying to process everything he was saying to you,

“I told guys to stay away from you, that’s why you’ve been single, I didn’t want people taking what was mine.” He admitted, you said nothing, you only moved closer to him, looked into his eyes and then down at his lips before leaning in and kissing him.

You wanted nothing more than to stay on the sofa making out with him but the front door was starting to open meaning your best friend was home.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow.” You whispered in his ear before going to help your friend inside.

Yoongi:

It was stupid to get involved with your best friends brother, you knew that when you started dating and you knew it the moment you stopped dating. You’d dated Yoongi from 16 till 20 when he went off to become a big rap star in his band. It hurt that he left you the way he did but you knew he needed to achieve his dreams, still it didn’t make being around him easier whenever he came back home for a visit. No one knew about your four-year relationship, you’d kept it hidden from everyone, including your best friend, you didn’t want to risk her finding out and being upset about it. So it stayed a secret, something only you and Yoongi knew about, you were madly in love with one another and spent whatever time you could together. Late-night dates when your friend was asleep at a sleepover, sneaking out of the house to be with him, going on long late-night walks together, hand in hand where you could be a real couple, only to return to ignoring each other in front of your best friend.

When he left you things changed, it was hard to be around your friend sometimes, whenever you’d look at her, you would see Yoongi staring back at you, they did have the same eyes Afterall, whenever you’d stay over at her place and have a nightmare you couldn’t go running to Yoongi with it, he wasn’t there to look after you and it wasn’t his job to anymore, he left you. Alone. Whenever he would come home for a break you would make up excuse after excuse not to come around to see your friend, you were either too busy with work, studies or sick. You couldn’t risk seeing his face, seeing how happy he’d become while you were still left behind, falling apart because the one you loved didn’t love you back anymore.

(x)

“Just come round! No one is home and I’m so bored!” Your best friend said down the phone to you, you looked at the clock beside your bed and sighed, it was 7 pm on a Saturday and you had nothing better to do. You knew Yoongi was due back any day but your best friend hadn’t mentioned anything meaning he probably wasn’t back yet.

“Fine, but I’m expecting snacks!” You said, taking the car keys from your cabinet and heading towards your garage, you could hear her yelling from the other end, and some cupboard doors, meaning she was getting things ready for you.

(X)

You’d missed spending time with her like this, it was carefree and nice. You’d both started watching movies together, then it lead to a pamper night, facemasks, nails and a bubble bath. It felt good to have fun around her and to relax, you’d missed being able to do that. Now she was asleep on the sofa next to you while you finished the movie that was playing on the TV, the doorbell rang and you frowned, you knew nothing could wake up your best friend once she was asleep so you got up and went to answer the door, standing there with a suitcase in the rain was Yoongi.

“Oh. Hi.” You said moving out of the way so he could come in, you looked at the sofa.

“She’s asleep…I can wake her up if you want?” He shook his head, his eyes trained on you, you looked down at your outfit, you were dressed in booty shorts and a tank top, you suddenly felt insecure about it and walked into the living room.

“I was about to get dressed and leave.” You lied taking your clothes from the sofa and going towards the bathroom, you were almost safe inside when he pushed you inside, pushing your back against the door and locking it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He spoke, you stared at him as if he was crazy.

“Well…that’s what happens when people break up Yoongi…they avoid one another.” You pushed him away from you and tried to leave but he put his hand on the door to stop you.

“You’re mad at me? For leaving you?” You stayed silent, not wanting to talk about it.

“Look I made my choices and you made yours,” That was it, you’d heard enough, you turned around to face him, tears in your eyes as you tried your best not to let them roll down your cheeks.

“Bullshit! You made your choice and I was forced to deal with the shit show you left behind!” You whisper yelled at him, the tears finally flowing as you let out what you finally felt, you still loved him, of course, you did. You didn’t think you would ever stop, no matter what. He was always going to be your true love. As you were about to leave his hands gripped your wrist and he kissed you, all thoughts going out of the window you just kissed him back

Hoseok:

Secretly dating your best friends brother was supposed to be easy, simple and nice. Except it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t simple but it was very nice. It started by accident, which was cliche to say but it was true. You’d mentioned in passing to him that on your bucket list was to go to the beach at 3 am, it was a dumb goal, you’d seen it on Pinterest a million times before and it looked like fun, a week later he showed up at your door, or rather your balcony door and took you to the beach.

“Hoseok? It’s 1 in the morning what are you doing here?” You grumbled opening in the balcony window, he smiled at you and pointed down to the car waiting for you both.

“Beach at 3 am remember? It’s a two-hour drive so I packed snacks, blankets and music.” You were shocked at first, your best friends brother was spending time with you alone, but you didn’t care, you grabbed some leggings and a coat, changing into them and went out to the car, climbing down the balcony because you didn’t want to get caught by your parents.

(x)

You’d spent the entire morning on the beach, watching the sunrise over the sea and then going to get breakfast at a nearby cafe, where he pretended to propose to you for a free breakfast meal. On the way back to the car is when he admitted his feelings for you, telling you how he’d liked you since the moment you stepped foot into his sister’s life and how he didn’t think he could spend another moment as just your friends brother, he wanted more, he wanted to be your boyfriend.

That’s how it started. A simple, not so date, date on the beach. You made it your goal to go to the beach together for 3 am once a month, making it a tradition together. But the longer you dated the harder it came to hiding it from your friend, it was harder to hide where you’d been all night on the same night her brother was missing, it was harder to explain why you couldn’t date someone she was trying to set you up with and it was harder to watch when her other friends flirted with Hoseok right in front of you.

(X)

Hoseok and you had been dating for 11 months now, and it was the night you would normally go to the beach together, he was coming to pick you up like he normally would and you were waiting on your balcony for him.

“Baby! Come on!” He whispered up to you, you went climbing down the balcony and headed to the car, holding his hands on the gearstick as he drove, if you hadn’t been so invested in spending time with him you would have noticed the car following behind you as you drove to the beach together.

(X)

“So this is where you both go?!” You stood up from the floor and turned to see your best friend staring at you, red in the face as she looked at you and then to Hoseok.

“Y/BF/N!” You stepped towards her but she moved away staring at you, shaking her head as she looked at Hoseok, he wrapped his hand around yours and you looked at him nervously, it was now or never.

“I can’t believe you! You’re dating him! After all the shit I gave everyone else for flirting with him.” It was true, she didn’t want her friends to flirt or date her brother but you couldn’t help it, you were in love with him.

“You don’t understand-” She shook her head at you, and turned to face her brother.

“And you! You! I warned you not to date any of my friends!” She screamed, she was drawing attention from early walkers now and you swallowed the lump that was in your throat.

“I love him.” You called out, she stopped mid-rant and turned to you, hands on her hip with a smirk on her face.

“Love? You, love him? Do you even know what love is?” You looked down at the floor and dropped Hoseok’s hand, you didn’t want to be a reason a brother and sister would fall out.

“Y/N. Wait.” Hobi said grabbing your wrist again and turning to his sister.

“I’ve been in love with her for a while now Y/BF/N…There is nothing you can say or do to change my mind. You can hate me, you can ignore me but don’t shut her out just because she’s dating me.” She stared at you both, the way he rubbed small circles along you knuckles to try and calm you down.

“I don’t want to hear about dates, or how much you love one another…and I want my best friend to spend time with me too…not just you.” She ordered at her brother before leaving you to your beach date.

Namjoon:

It was your best friends birthday which meant a big party was being thrown in celebration of her, which is great but you would rather be at home, in bed, with a book, than out in a club that was rented out for her, with a lot of people crowding around and trying to see the birthday girl, you were happy for her of course but big parties weren’t your style, you’d rather have a small meal together than a big outrageous party. You figured you could get away with sneaking a small book into your handbag, and then going to sit at the back of the club alone to read all night, she was going to be busy with other people so she wouldn’t notice you not drinking too much or not dancing a lot.

“You! Me! Dance! Now!” She yelled taking your hand as soon as you walked through the club doors, she took you handbag and handed it to Namjoon, her older brother, who looked at you sympathetically, he knew you didn’t do big parties, and neither did he. He put the handbag over his shoulder, knowing you didn’t trust anyone with your things.

“Happy Birthday!” You yelled as she took you out onto the dance floor and started dancing, it wasn’t your thing but you did your best to dance along with her, a man with a tray of shots came over and she took four, handing two to you and two to herself, downing them and egging you on to do the same.

(X)

She finally let you leave the dance floor and you went off to find Namjoon, so you could get your handbag which had a bottle of water inside, you needed it after the drinks she’d been handing you, one after another. You spotted him sitting at the back with your book in his hand, you smiled going to walk over when a guy took hold of your waist and pulled you against his back, grinding into you in time with the music.

“Get off me you creep!” You yelled turning around and smacking him across the cheek, you scoffed turning away and leaving him, standing next to Namjoon who was infested in the book and hadn’t noticed you.

“You always bring books to parties?” You joked, sliding into the seat in front of him, he laughed looking up from the pages and at you.

“Teen romance isn’t my first choice.” He said handing it over to you, you looked at where he’d gotten to and smiled.

“The part where he comes to rescue his boyfriend from the Mage, romantic and daring.” You smirked shutting the “Carry On” book and sliding it into the handbag he’d given back.

“You’re being watched.” He commented pointing over your shoulder at the guy you had just slapped across the face.

“I smacked him, creep kept grinding on me.” You shuddered, he was making his way over so Namjoon moved to sit next to you, you were confused but stayed silent.

“Hey baby, come and dance again. I know someone who is really missing you right now.” The guy said rubbing his hand across the crotch of his pants, you were about to open your mouth to speak but Namjoon beat you to it.

“She’s not interested, she’s got a boyfriend.” He took your hand in his and smirked at the guy in front of you, who was starting to turn a red colour.

“She was grinding on my dick man, you better watch her. She’s bad news.” Namjoon turned to look at you with a smirk and then back to the guy.

“She’s my bad girl.” You felt a heat rush to your face and between your legs as soon as the words left his mouth.

(X)

As soon as the guy left you excused yourself, going to stand outside and get some air, the feeling of Namjoon’s hand on yours and him calling you his bad girl was doing things to you, you’d never imagined before.

“Where’s your boyfriend now?” You groaned turning to face the same guy from inside the club, he ran his hand along your cheek while the other snaked its way around your waist, dragging your body into him.

“No big tough guy to protect you now.” He was about to kiss you when Namjoon punched him in the jaw sending him onto the floor, you screamed running into Namjoon’s arm, your head on his chest.

“Listen here psycho, if you lay a finger on Y/N again, I’ll kill you!” You hit his chest with your fist, people were starting to stare at you, and his sister was standing in the door.

“Joonie…people are looking, come on.” You whispered taking hold of his hand, instantly his shoulders relaxed as you touched him and he moved away from the guy, you took him over to a calmer area and looked at him.

“He’s gone, I’m fine. Look at me I’m fine.” He stared at you, biting his lip.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of him- Of him kissing you, or touching you.” He moved a hair from your face and you looked at his lips.

“Kiss me.” He stared at you dumbfounded.

“Kiss me Namjoon.” You pleaded, he didn’t need to be told a third time, he bent down and connected your lips with his, a cheering coming from his sister who had been watching the entire interaction.

Jimin:

You’d slept over at your friend’s house a billion times before and you were bond to sleep over a billion times again. You had been best friends since you were both in nappies, she was your best friend, you told her everything and anything, except the fact that you had caught her twin brother with her other friends before, making out at parties or out on dates together, he made you promise you’d never tell her about the dates he had with them, or kisses they shared or he’d reveal your biggest secret. He knew your biggest secret thanks to your dumb hiding place for a journal, hiding a journal under your pillow isn’t a great hiding place when your best friends twin brother is nosey and likes to have dirt on you, but the secret he thought he knew he didn’t know the full truth of, he thought you had a crush on one of his friends, which wasn’t true at all, the crush you had was on him but you couldn’t tell him he’d read the journal wrong because he would just ask who you had a real crush on, so it went on like that. He would threaten to tell his friend you liked him unless you kept his secret, meanwhile, you fell harder and harder for the guy that would never like you back

(X)

You were out with your best friend for a day of shopping and coffee, you’d spent the morning walking around the mall looking for new outfits for her, she was going out on some big date and wanted to look nice so you agreed to help her find something to wear. Currently, you were sitting in a cafe waiting for her to come back from the toilet when Jimin walked in with another friend of hers, you instantly felt your heart sink to the floor as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips, you looked at him and then to the floor not wanting your heart to break any more than it already had.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked coming over and standing next to the chair, his date by his side who was smiling at you, you’d met her before, she was quite close with Y/BF/N and it hurt to know she was flirting with her friend’s brother when Y/BF/N wanted no one to date him.

“I’m here with Y/BF/N…you might want to leave unless you want her to find out you’re being a skank with her brother.” The harsh words left your mouth before your brain even had time to register what you were saying, Jimin let out a chuckle as his date screamed in shock at you,

“Jimin! Say something!” She demanded but Jimin continued to laugh along at what you had said, she scoffed smacking him and walking away, you rolled your eyes at Jimin and looked at your phone, sending a quick text to your friend explaining how you felt sick and would leave her bags with the cashier.

(X)

Jimin followed you out of the cafe and into the street, you knew he was following you but you ignored him going to find a taxi to take you home, you were mad and upset at yourself for letting your feelings for Jimin come out in that way,

“Were you jealous of her?” You stopped dead in your tracks, like a deer in headlights, you turned to look at Jimin in silence and it’s as if you could see the cogs in his mind slowly start to turn as he realised you didn’t have feelings for his friend at all…they were for him.

“You were, weren’t you?” You stayed silent shaking your head and trying to act as though it was a dumb accusation.

“Tell me the truth Y/N.” He said backing you up against a wall, your back hit the brick wall and his arm was above your head, you looked up into his eyes and wanted to grab him and kiss him, you wanted him to pin you against the wall like you’d seen him do with other girls and make out with you.

“No. I don’t, that’s dumb.” You stuttered out, your hands shaking, he smirked taking his hand and rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Then why are you shaking?” He whispered in your ear, you bit down on your lip resisting the urge to kiss him, you loved your friendship more than you liked him, he wasn’t worth throwing it all away for.

“All this time I thought you liked Tae and I was trying to make you jealous…guess you liked me all this time.” You stared at him and he moved away from you.

“I’ll take you out on a date…I’ll ask Y/BF/N first, getting permission and whatnot, it’ll make her like the idea of us being together even more.” He bent down and picked up the bag you had dropped, leaving a small kiss on your cheek before going back to the cafe where his sister was.

Taehyung:

You had been best friends with Y/BF/N since you moved in next door to her at the age of 18, and you had regular sleepovers at one another’s house, but there was one problem with sleepovers, You suffered from frequent nightmares, it wasn’t a big deal to anyone else but to you it was. They felt all too real everything that happened in your nightmares felt traumatic to you, it would bring up old memories you had forgotten and forge no ways in your mind for them to torture you with. The only person who knew about these nightmares was your best friends brother, Taehyung, he found you one night on the airbed during a sleepover, whimpering in your sleep, tears streaming down your cheeks and you were fidgeting. He tried to wake you up but when he touched you he found it stopped you from moving so much, the whimpering stopped completely and you relaxed against his touch, he ended up waking you up and asking you about the nightmare, that was when you explained them to him, you laid against his shoulder as you explained the stories of your nightmares, and you ended up falling asleep on him, but no nightmare happened. You had a peaceful nights sleep for once. You’d never really had an entire night of peaceful sleep with no nightmares before and it felt nice to finally get some decent rest, you would wake up feeling refreshed instead of tired from all the shaking you did.

(X)

It continued that way for months, whenever you would go to bed at home Taehyung would sneak through the window to come and sleep next to you, he was the only one that could make the nightmares go away, his touch or him just being there made your mind at ease, it was great for him as well because he couldn’t sleep without holding something, a person or a pillow. He slept soundly with you wrapped in his arms, listening to your breathing as you finally slept peacefully, he would constantly set an early alarm so no one at home would notice he was missing during the night and you would always get up at the same time to start an early day, finding it hard to sleep without him being next to you, but outside of the bedroom you hardly spoke a word to one another, you would say hello and how are you in passing but there was never any conversation there, even on a night time you would just sleep next to one another, or curled up together.

Tonight was different, tonight you were stopping over at your friends house for a birthday sleepover, you didn’t think it would be that much of a big deal, you could sneak up to see Taehyung when she finally drifted off but she hadn’t just invited you round, she invited all her friends around which meant it was going to be harder to be alone with Tae.

(X)

Taehyung came down at 3 am to check on you, and he found you on the sofa, whimpering and crying in your sleep again, he’d come up with the idea of you sleeping in one of his shirts and some shorts it was an idea that if you could smell him maybe it would help a little but it was clear the plan had failed dramatically, it pained him to see you this way, he checked his sister and her friends were all asleep before he bent down, picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs, you stirred a little, laying your hand on his bare chest and smiling in your sleep.

“Tae.” You moaned out, he almost dropped you from the sound of your moan, you’d never moaned out his name in your sleep before, he laid you down in his bed and covered you with the sheets, as soon as the contact with him left you were whimpering out again, and he climbed into the bed next to you.

“I’m here baby.” He whispered pulling your head against his chest, one arm going around your waist and rubbing small patterns against the area of exposed skin, you hummed against his chest and snuggled against him.

“Love you Tae.” You whispered out, he smiled, the rubbing stopped and he kissed the top of your head.

“Love you too Y/N.”

Jungkook:

You were going out on a date, a blind date, you hated blind dates, actually you hated any dates at all. They weren’t your thing, you wanted to just be left alone with your crush that would never happen but your best friend insisted on you going out with the guy she’d found for you, he was “the perfect match,” she said to you but you knew that was a lie, your perfect match was her brother Jungkook but it was never going to happen, he saw you as his little sisters annoying best friend who was always around her. You weren’t little though, you were a young woman so you had to get over this crush, it was stupid, a crush at your age. So you agreed to go on the date, but now looking back on it you wish you hadn’t. It was the night of the date and you were panicking about what to wear, you’d gotten changed into a short tight fitted black dress and you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling insecure, you grabbed your keys and headed to the front door, slipping into some black vans and putting on a coat over the top of your dress. You began the drive to your best friends house.

(X)

After ringing the doorbell countless numbers of times someone finally answered,

“Y/BF/N!” You yelled moving past Jungkook ans going into the house, he stared at you confused and you shouted out her name again.

“She’s not here, her and parents went out for the night.” He said still staring at you, he noticed your legs were bare and you were wearing a coat.

“Where? I have to see her, she has to cancel this stupid date.” You said, your eyes finally meeting his, his were wide at the mention of a date and he walked you through to the living room, he sat down on the sofa while you paced in front of him.

“A date? You’re going on a date?” You shook your head.

“Not anymore, I can’t, it’s stupid. I don’t know why I agreed, I don’t like him I like someone else!” You said you were starting to get nervous now as you realised you were alone with Jungkook and his eyes were on you.

“I feel like I can’t breathe, I’m in this stupid dress, I look awful and I don’t want to go out with some creep I don’t know!” You whimpered finally sitting on the coffee table and keeping the coat wrapped around you tightly.

“A date though? A real date? You were going to go out with someone?” You groaned throwing your hands on your face.

“Yes Jungkook a date, keep up, fuck I can’t breathe in this dress.” You wanted to cry but he stood up and went over to a nearby washing pile taking one of his shirts and handing it to you.

“Go get changed, come back down and we can have a movie night. You and me, I’ll call Y/BF/N I’ll have her cancel the date and you can chill out here.” You nodded and took the shirt from him going over to the bathroom to get changed.

(X)

“Jungkook?” You called from the bathroom door, he looked over from the TV set and you smiled.

“Can you help me?” You questioned, he came over and you opened the door, letting him inside and looking at the floor nervously.

“The zip is stuck and I can’t get it off.” You turned your back and moved the hair out of the way, he came closer to you and put one of his hands on your waist and the other on the zip, his breath catching in his throat as he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra with it.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath.” He whispered out, finally getting the zipper down, you held it around your body and turned to look at him, he had a blush on his cheeks and so did you.

“It didn’t look right with underwear.” You said back to him in a whisper, neither of you understanding why you were whispering.

“Were you expecting to get lucky?” You stared at him and then laughed a little at his comment, you coughed trying not to laugh too hard.

“No, I didn’t think I would be getting lucky, I didn’t even want to go out with him.” He nodded, turning to leave but then stopping and looking at you again.

“Before you said you don’t like him, you like someone else…who?” You blinked at him, the dress still clutched around you and you bit on your lip.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you.” He smirked, all of his nerves gone now he came back over to you and played with the strap of the dress which was hanging loosely on your shoulder.

“Oh I think it’s a good idea.” He bent down, his face inches away from yours.

“See…I always thought you liked me, you’d blush whenever I was around or whenever I spoke a word to you…and now…You’re blushing now and I haven’t even touched you.” You gulped and looked at his eyes and then to his lips.

“It’s me isn’t it? It’s always been me.” He whispered in your ear, that was it, it was enough to have you weak at the knees, you threw your arms around him not caring that the dress was dropping and kissed him.

“It’s always you.” You panted between the kiss, he smirked wrapping his arms around you and picking you up.

“Good.”

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silverhandy · 3 years

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read on ao3!

Summary: Having climbed all the way up from Heywood’s slums to Miyabi, one of the most high end casinos in Night City, Santiago "Sanny" Garcia thought himself a lucky man, right until the point when his employer, an Arasaka board member with a gambling business on the side, caught him stealing and offered an impossible ultimatum. Forced to pay off his debt or die trying, Sanny has to renew some old friendships and form some new ones to keep himself afloat.

On top of everything, when his cyberware starts malfunctioning, there’s only one person on his long contact list that he can call.

“Where’s your Trauma platinum when you need it, pendejo?”

“Kicking a man when he’s down? Never expected that from you” Sanny groaned, burying his face in a pillow. He’d give anything for the world to stop spinning, just for a second. Faced with a heavy silence, he cracked one eye open to see Maria’s disgruntled expression on the holo. “It got revoked, okay? I’m literally begging here.”

“You're not,” she replied, the frown still not leaving her face. Sanny could swear at least some part of her was enjoying it. “At least not yet.”

“C’mon, hermana. I’m-” before he could finish that sentence, he was cut off by another wave of nausea strong arming its way through him. He barely had the chance to haul himself over the edge of the bed to vomit into the bucket he put there, anything to avoid ruining his ridiculously expensive, silk sheets.

Sanny could practically feel Maria’s judging stare on him as she got a front row seat on her brother puking his brains out. He understood her, in a way - their last conversation wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. Maybe he went a little overboard with his bragging. Still, she was his only sibling that still kept in touch with him, all the rest a step away from declaring him a total stranger.

As he wiped his mouth, desperate to get rid of the bitter taste of bile, he entertained the thought of apologizing to her. Was that his new low? At the mercy of his older sister? Certainly not a position he thought he’d find himself in, not after he decided to say goodbye to Heywood for good. She had every right to resent him just as the rest of the family did, but despite it all, they still kept in contact. A sporadic, passive aggressive contact, but a contact nevertheless.

She let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. You’re lucky my day freed up, otherwise you’d have to call some other sorry fucker. Text me the address, I’ll be there in an hour, maybe two.”

“Two hours? You for real?”

“Don’t push your luck, Santiago.”

***

“That ripperdoc of yours, how reliable is he?”

“He knows his stuff. Just bear in mind he doesn’t usually take on corpos.”

“Not a corpo.” Sanny mumbled, resting his forehead on the cold glass of the passenger's window.

“You sure as hell look like one” she replied, not taking her eyes off the road.

“When in Rome, do as Romans do…”

The car hit a bump, making Sanny smack his head against the glass. An explosion of pain followed as an array of angrily white stars danced in front of his vision, sprinkled with not less alarming system failure warnings. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Maria did that on purpose, but she wasn’t responsible for the state of the neighborhood's roads. Not directly, at least.

“We’re here.” Maria’s voice snapped him out of his stupor. Some time must’ve passed because when he opened his eyes they were parked on the edge of a wide, busy street, various shops, and nightclubs drawing customers in with their loud neons and whatever else they had to offer. Luckily for Sanny, they didn’t have to walk all the way through it, loud sounds and aggressively bright lights coming at him from all directions, mercilessly aggravating his headache before they turned the corner and walked through the gate leading to a small, crumpled backyard. Maria led him down another set of stairs to an unlabeled basement, one of those places you needed to know were there to find them.

“Hey Vik!'' she said as she passed the gate to the underground clinic, walking in as if she owned the place. Sanny followed behind, his usual confidence shrinking. If what Maria said was true, there was a real chance that the ripperdoc would turn him away and he doubted he had the resolve to drag himself to another one. Suddenly Fukuzawa’s offer of a bullet to the head seemed much more appealing.

When the ripperdoc turned his head towards them, a warm smile appeared on his face as his eyes landed on Maria. Tossing the screwdriver he’d been holding aside, he got up to greet her, though Sanny could tell he was eyeing him over her shoulder as well. He couldn’t blame him - he probably looked like a breathing trainwreck.

“Hey, good to see you.” the ripper said to Maria. “So you must be Sanny?” he asked, suddenly shifting his attention to the younger man, extending a muscular arm towards him. The ripper was built like a fucking truck and Mal could feel his mouth go dry, and only partially because he must be severely dehydrated at this point. Suddenly regretting that he didn’t at least take a shower before Maria came to pick him up, he took a step forward to shake the man’s hand.

“That’s me.” Sanny smiled nervously, his paled face twitching with the effort.

“Viktor Vector’s the name. Heard a lot about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Sanny could hear his voice cracking, mind racing at all the things Maria could possibly say about him while in her ripper’s chair. There were many and only a few made Sanny proud of himself.

“I’ll leave you boys to chat. Don’t want no part in this.” Maria said, a crooked smile on her face. “I’ll wait in the car. Vik, feel free to add this to my tab.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

And just like that, she left him there. Great.

“Alright, let’s get you seated, don’t want you to crack your head open if you fall.” Sanny heard Viktor say. Too busy trying to keep down the few sips of water he got before leaving the apartment, he didn’t even notice how his silhouette started to sway to the side, only stopped by the ripperdoc’s strong arm on his shoulder, steadying him and gently ushering him in the direction of the chair.

Looking back, the whole thing couldn’t have happened to him at a worse time, shortly after he got dropped from the Trauma Team health plan, his regular ripper bidding him farewell with an apologetic smile, even taking a step further to wish him luck. So much for the Hippocratic oath. Sanny watched silently as Viktor kicked himself a chair and sat down to fire up the monitors, typing away at the beat up keyboard until eventually, he reached out a hand.

“Your personal link, please.”

“‘f course” Sunny mumbled, handing him the cable and watching as the doc jacked it into the port, on the first try even. Must be the practice, Sanny thought and allowed his head to rest on the headboard, the blue leather cracking slightly as Viktor started running diagnostics on his cyberware.

“That’s an impressive set you got there”

If he wasn’t feeling so damn miserable, he'd smirk. Impressive was an understatement, with his array of the state of the art cyberware, from behavioral boosters to those refining his fine motor skills to a point he was practically a magician with a deck of cards. Or a lockpick, but he was yet to get desperate enough to give that career path a try.

“My job has its perks.”

“You a croupier at Miyabi?” it seemed that Viktor was rather keen on small talk, a quality that Sanny didn’t quite share, but hesitantly welcomed.

“Figured it out from my tech or did my sister tell you?”

“Bit of both, I suppose.”

Jacked and insightful. What more could Sanny possibly want? Then again, it wasn’t a time in his life for romantic pursuits, both this specific moment, lying sick on the ripperdoc’s chair and in a broader sense, when he had a figurative gun to his head, a literal one soon to follow if he doesn’t resolve the mess he got himself into.

“Other than dizziness, anything else bothering you?

“Uh,” Sanny turned his head to look at the other man. There were many things bothering him and most had little to do with his current physical condition. “I haven't been able to keep anything down for a few days now. Not even the damn pills for the headache. Running self diagnostics didn’t spit out anything useful either.”

Viktor’s brows furrowed as he shot the younger man a glance from behind his shades. Disapproval? Concern?

“It’s been this bad and you’re only now seeing a ripper?”

“Maria told you where I work but didn’t share why I’m visiting a back alley doctor? How considerate.”

“You guys don’t get along too well, huh?” Sanny frowned at the direction this conversation was going, but there was nothing he could do but enjoy the ride.

“It’s...an on and off thing between us.” he just mumbled, desperate to avoid Viktor’s gaze. Lucky for Sanny, the ripper’s attention seemed to be entirely on the monitors in front of him.

“Just remember, kid,” Viktor said, finally turning to look at Sanny’s face. “she cares about you a lot. Wouldn’t bring you here if she didn’t.”

Sanny just hummed in response. Deep down, he knew the ripper was right, but the whole exchange only made him even more curious about what exactly Maria had been saying about him. It couldn’t be half as bad as he thought he deserved because not only had Viktor not kicked him out of the chair, but was even nice to him. Go figure.

“Alright then,” Viktor said, unplugging the younger man’s personal link. “had to do some cleaning in your CPU, you should be up and running in a few hours. Take this before going to bed for the night,” a strip of pills was placed in his hand “and in the future, watch what you plug your personal link into. I know you guys working in high end casinos get a fancy firewall as part of the package, but it’s not foolproof.

“It sure ain’t, doc. Thanks for the advice,” Sanny smiled, motioning to get up from the chair. “and everything else.”

Whatever Viktor did, the effect was immediate; the clinic was no longer swaying and his stomach didn’t threaten to twist itself inside out every time he moved his head. He still felt like he was experiencing a crescendo of the worst hangover of his life, but it was nothing that couldn’t be managed with a shower and a fresh change of clothes. Who knows, he might even get bold and eat something, though he still wasn’t sure about that one.

“Don’t mention it, I don’t often get the chance to tinker with Miyabi tech. And if you’re open to some more pieces of advice, you should be thanking your sister, not me.”

“I’ll make sure to do just that.”

“Should you run into more trouble with software, my clinic’s always open. I’ll send you the number, so don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Did he just…? No fucking way, Sanny thought as he walked up the stairs, leaving the clinic behind.

***

“So...how’re the Valentinos treatin’ you?”

“Actually, I…puta madre!” she shouted, blasting her hand against the car’s horn as she slammed the brakes to make her disdain loud and clear to the driver who tried to cut her off at the intersection. A litany of insults from the would-be culprit followed, another sound in a cacophony of Heywood’s streets. Maria shook her head, dark locks of her hair shaking with the movement like a swarm of angry bees. “I left.”

“And here I was thinking the position of the family’s black sheep was already taken.”

“Don’t ever think you’re the special one just because you shuffle cards for the big guys.”

“Oh, I could never. So what do you do now?”

“Independent. It took a while, but a friend got me hooked up with some reliable fixers.”

“A “friend”? Don’t tell me that on top of everything, you got yourself a man. Or a woman?”

Maria shot him a warning glare. “It’s nothing like that. Jackie just helped me get back on my feet, introduced me to some people. I’ve been fending for myself since then.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“Way better than for you. The hell did you do to piss off your corporate overlords?”

“All I can say for now is that you can leave Heywood, but Heywood never leaves you. Took one too many risks and all it did was land me before the one and only Akio Fukuzawa, who apparently doesn’t take kindly to humbled employees when his eddies are missing.”

“And yet here you are, still alive.”

“What can I say? I’m a charming guy.”

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence, Maria’s eyes fixed on the road, maroon painted nails tapping on the steering wheel in the rhythm of whatever was playing on the radio while Sanny pretended to be mesmerized by whatever they were passing on their way, in reality pulling up his comms interface to scroll through all the text messages he sent to fixers before the damn virus made it impossible to see straight. Almost all of them were left on read and unanswered. Sanny presumed they were bound to remain so. He didn’t have the reputation necessary to land any of the bigger contracts and no time to build it up before Fukuzawa’s minions showed up on his doorstep.

They parked in front of his building, mere centimeters away from bumping into a lampost. Sanny choked down a sigh. There was no escaping it now.

“Thanks, hermana. I owe you one,” he uttered, motioning to get out of the car. Just as he pushed the door open, his comms chimed with a text message from an unknown number. Getting out of the car, he waved to dismiss it, thinking it must be another of those spam chains that’d been flooding his inbox from time to time, but froze halfway through when his eyes landed on the text. The contract was vague on details, but the reward was crystal clear. Sanny could almost feel his jaw dropping as he looked at the impressive number of zeros that followed the first digit. It should be enough. More than enough to pay Fukuzawa off, even if, as per the fixer’s demand, he’ll have to cut the amount in half and share with a partner. He was so dumbfounded he didn’t hear Maria’s reply, or if she replied at all, but when he turned back one last time, she was eying him from head to toe suspiciously. Then she just shook her head slightly as if shushing away a thought.

“And Sanny?” she said, rolling down her window and shooting him a glare from behind her shades. “don’t you dare fuck my ripperdoc.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #cp2077 #cp77 #cyberpunk oc #Viktor Vector #cyberpunk fic #my writing #moxwrites2077

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ellenripleysbelieveitornot · 4 years

Text

After seeing the reaction on my last fic with Nanny Ashtoreth, Brother Francis, and Warlock, I decided to make a special post for all three. Because I love that dynamic so much, and it deserves it’s own post.

All three fics, in their entirety, are below the read more. In order, they are

Warlock catching Nanny yelling at the garden

Nanny and Brother Francis take Warlock trick or treating

“I SAW NANNY KISSING SANTA CLAUSE!”

They’re marked clearly with headers. Enjoy!

Warlock catching Nanny yelling at the garden

Brother Francis, during the course of his employment for the Dowlings, always seemed to be on the very cusp of being fired.

Looking back on his childhood, Warlock would wonder how he ever managed to have a job at all. The flowerbeds always seemed to be flooded, the bushes were trimmed to within an inch of their life, and instead of using any sort of pesticide, he instead fawned over whatever caterpillar or rabbit decided to have lunch in the garden.

Despite all this, however, the plants always seemed to survive, somehow. When he was six, he realized that a sort of pattern had emerged. The plants would be near death, when he went to bed at night, but by the time he got up in the morning, they would be looking so lush and green that you couldn’t even tell they had ever been sick. Then, every four to five days, the process would repeat itself.

He didn’t have any clue as to why this would be happening until he was seven. He woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of shouting coming from the garden. When he rushed to the window to see what all the commotion was about, he saw Nanny Ashtoreth standing in the middle of the yard and screaming at the plants. This went on for several hours, until finally, she seemed to run out of things to say and stalked back inside the house.

The next morning, the plants were thriving again.

Brother Francis seemed very pleased, as Warlock watched them while kicking a ball around. He was close enough to hear as the gardner leaned over to the Nanny and said proudly, “you see my dear? Anytime they start to look unhealthy, I make sure to spend the entire day giving them love and praise, and come morning, they always look beautiful again!”

Warlock was pretty sure that it wasn’t ‘love and praise’ that brought the plants back to life. Strange as it sounded, he was pretty sure that it was Nanny’s shouting that had gotten them to straighten up. After all, had he been a plant, he would certainly do his best to look presentable if Nanny screamed at him the way she had at the plants last night.

No, the garden’s vivaciousness was definitely Nanny’s doing, and Warlock expected her to say as much to Brother Francis.

Instead, Nanny’s face softened in a way Warlock had never seen on her before as she smiled at the gardner.

“Yes, Angel,” she said, an alarming sort of fondness in her voice. “You’ve certainly got a knack for this. I should never have doubted your abilities.”

Brother Francis positively beamed in response, and for a second, he looked much younger.

It was as the gardner picked up his water can and began to drown the flowers again, that Nanny Ashtoreth caught Warlock watching them.

While Brother Francis’s back was turned, she smiled at Warlock conspiritorally and raised one gloved finger to her lips. Warlock grinned back and nodded.

This would stay their secret.

Nanny and Brother Francis take Warlock trick or treating

Nanny Ashtoreth was an angel. Not just because she gave up one of her precious few nights off to stay with Warlock after his parents got invited to a last-minute party, but also because, on that particular night, she just so happened to literally be dressed like one.

“Alright, now, dear, when they answer the door, what do we say?”

“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don’t, I don’t care, I’ll pull down your underwear!” Warlock shouted cheerfully at the top of his lungs.

“Very good! A little troublemaker after my own heart!”

“Do you think people will give me lots of candy, Nanny?” the five-year-old asked excitedly as he bounced back and forth from foot to foot

“Oh, I’m sure they will,” Nanny said as she straightened the crown balanced precariously on Warlock’s small head. “And if not, we’ll simply have to destroy them when you come into your power.”

Of course, it was right then that Brother Francis decided to join them. “Now, now, there’ll be no need for all that. Remember, Master Warlock, you’ll get plenty of sweets so long as you say ‘please’ and 'thank you.’”

Nanny would have scoffed, had she not been utterly distracted the moment she laid eyes on Brother Francis. “Ang- Azir- Brother Francis, what in Go- Sa- Somebody’s name are you wearing?!”

Brother Francis grinned and spun around to show off the full scope of his costume. From the bright red, plastic horns on his head to the cheap toy pitchfork he held in one hand, his cartoonish devil costume was about accurate to the real thing as Count Chocula was to vampires.

“You like it?” he asked.

The scowl on Nanny’s face indicated that she, in fact, did not. “That’s horribly offensive!”

“Me?” Francus gestured to the white Marilyn Monroe style dress and sparkly angel wings Nanny Ashtoreth had donned. “What about you?”

Nanny smirked and did a little twirl that made her skirt flare out. “What about me?”

Brother Francis blushed but didn’t get a chance to reply as Warlock mustered up all the drama that only a five-year-old could and threw back his head with a groan. “Can we gooooo, already?!” he whined.

“One moment, dear, just let me grab the eggs and toilet paper.” At the appalled look on Brother Francis’ face she laughed, a beautiful, joyful sound. “I’m kidding.”

Brother Francis studied her suspiciously before his face softened into a fond smile as she took Warlock’s hand in her own. On a whim, he offered his own arm out for her to take, his heart thudding loudly in his chest as she blinked at him in surprise.

Gently, as though afraid she would break it, she rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and smiled at him in return. “Shall we, then?”

“I didn’t realize they made Antichrist costumes,” he murmured softly in her ear as they set out.

Nanny Ashtoreth self-conciously rubbed her thumb across the many band-aids wrapped around the tips of most of her fingers. “They don’t,” she said proudly. “…Do you suppose it’s a little too on the nose?”

Brother Francis hummed in consideration as he watched Warlock excitedly run up the front steps of the first house to ring the doorbell. “…The hooves are a nice touch.”

“I SAW NANNY KISSING SANTA CLAUSE!”

It was a cold night, and the world was quiet and still, yet, little Warlock Dowling still couldn’t sleep. After all, tonight was a very special night. He had been both on his very best and his very worst behavior during the weeks leading up to it, helping Brother Francis out in the garden, pulling all the kids books off the shelves at the local library under Nanny’s approving gaze.

Brother Francis had said that he would definitely be on the nice list, and Nanny had said that extra naughty children receive extra special toys, so he was sure to find lots of presents from Santa under the tree come tomorrow morning.

Which was why he was still lying awake in bed, too excited to sleep, when he heard the sound of jingle bells coming from downstairs sometime around midnight. Carefully, he climbed out of bed and crept down the hall to the top of the stairs, where he had a clear view of the sitting room where the tree had been set up.

Santa didn’t look quite how Warlock had expected, his hair closer to a light blonde than white with a pair of blue eyes that looked almost familiar somehow. But, he still had the bright red suit, and the big black boots, and the hat with the pom-pom, and he was pulling brightly wrapped gifts out of a large brown sack, and that was enough for Warlock’s curiosity. It was, after all, quite a lot of gifts.

He had almost finished when a voice across the room startled him and he spun around. “Angel, what are you doing?”

When he saw Nanny, Santa put a hand to his chest in relief. “You scared me,” he accused, his voice soft and light.

“My apologies,” Nanny said, not sounding very sorry at all. “I was just bringing out the milk and cookies.” She walked around the tree to stand in front of Santa. “Won’t you have some? I made them myself.”

“Ooh!” Santa wiggled his fingers over the plate before picking up the largest cookie and taking a bite. “Oh, my dear, they’re absolutely heavenly.”

“How dare you,” Nanny said. But she said it in the same way she said ‘you horrible little hell spawn’ to Warlock, the way Brother Francis had told him meant ‘I love you,’ though he wasn’t supposed to tell Nanny that he knew.

Santa only chuckled and finished putting out the rest of the presents.

Nanny put the milk and cookies down on the coffee table and looked at the pile under the tree, raising one delicate eyebrow. “It’s quite a lot.”

“I… may have gone overboard,” Santa said sheepishly.

“You don’t say,” Nanny remarked dryly.

“Oh, I forgot one!” Santa reached into the bag and pulled out one last, small present. Instead of putting it under the tree, however, he handed it to Nanny, who looked at the gift in her hands with wide eyes.

“For me?” she asked, her voice sounding suddenly strange. “Angel-”

“Open it,” Santa encouraged.

Nanny took her time carefully peeling back the paper to reveal a plain looking box. She gasped as she opened it and dropped both the box and the lid, clutching a single white feather in her hands.

“Merry Christmas, dearest,” Santa said gently, wiping away what looked like a tear (but couldn’t be because Nanny never cried) from her face with his thumb. In a swift movement, Nanny grabbed Santa by his red coat and pressed their lips together.

Ew.

The next morning, Crowley and Aziraphale, who was there by Warlock’s request, sat around the tree with the Dowlings, watching Warlock eagerly tear open his presents. The feather was tucked into her breast pocket, close to her heart, and she found herself feeling perfectly content.

That is, until she was sent into a coughing fit by Warlock excitedly yelling out, “I SAW NANNY KISSING SANTA CLAUSE!”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #nanny ashtoreth #brother francis #warlock dowling #my fic

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lukatheselkie · 4 years

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FrUk Week Day Six - FACE

@frukweek2020

Uh. This got INCREDIBLY out of hand. The characters took over and they didn’t want me to stop writing until this was finished. Even though that was roughly 6,600 words long. Human AU. Alfred and Matthieu are elementary schoolers, and they each have a single dad. This is the story of how the boys met, and dragged their fathers into a relationship.

High key I love writing child Alfred, he’s adorable. And Matthieu.

Warnings: Cussing. There’s a blowjob at the end, BUT I’ve marked where to stop reading if you want to read to that point. The sheer freaking length of this thing deserves a warning, though it’s not technically needed.

Alfred and Matthieu literally run into each other on the playground at school. As they stand and look at each other, their similarities stick out to one another almost immediately. Alfred is the first to react. “You have my face!” He screams, pointing at the shy boy. Matthieu flinches back, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. Why did he have to run into potentially the loudest boy in the entire elementary school on his first day? And where are his glasses!? He drops to the ground, and runs his hands over the soft, slightly bouncy pad meant to keep kids from hurting themselves too much. The strange boy sits next to him, and holds out his hand. “Here. These are yours, right?” He reaches out carefully and grabs the thing offered to him. To his relief, it is his glasses. He slips them on and scowls at the boy. Apparently this is an invitation for him to start talking.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Alfred! Are you new here? I’ve never seen you here before! I think I would have noticed someone that looks so similar to me. How old are you? I’m ten! Do you think we could be brothers? I’m adopted! Dad says he doesn’t like keeping secrets from me, so I know that, but others that are adopted might not. It’s okay if you don’t know! I can ask your parent...s!? Do you have one parent, like me, or two? Hey, we should switch places! You’ll really love dad! He’s kind and caring and he makes the best scones! Though everyone else seems to dislike them, I’m not sure why. I think he’s the best cook in the whole wide world. If you don’t want to switch, you should come over after school! I know my address, so I don’t get lost. Do you know yours? No, probably not, if you just moved here. But we should totally have a sleepover! Then dad can bring us both to school tomorrow. Or we can have a weekend sleepover! Tomorrow’s Friday, after all! How does that sound? I’m excited! I made a new friend that looks just like me! Well, almost. What’s this?” He reaches out and tugs on Matthieu’s curl. He shoves his hands away quickly, cheeks flushed.

“Don’t touch that please. It’s really hard to get it to stay how I like it!” Alfred scrunches up his nose at him.

“You’re too quiet. I can barely hear you! Try speaking louder. It’s so much fun when you can be heard! And why didn’t you answer any of my questions? Oh, your glasses are different from mine! We’d have to take each other’s if we want to switch. And I’d have to get this stupid cowlick into a curl.” Alfred starts rocking back and forth happily. “You’d have to make your curl a cowlick! I think you’d look cute with one. Hmm, you have purple eyes though. I don’t. Mine are blue! I’m sure dad won’t notice though. He’s not exactly the most observant. I love him, but he’s sometimes wrapped up in his own stuff. It must be hard, being an adult. Say, why haven’t you answered my questions again?”

“Because you won’t be quiet long enough for me to speak!” He narrows his eyes at the boy. “You’re obnoxious.” He sighs heavily.

“What’s that mean? Is it a compliment? I’m going to take it as a compliment! Dad says those are nice things people say about you, to you sometimes.” He pauses long enough to take a breath. Finally. “I miss dad. Maybe we shouldn’t switch. I want to see him when I go home. Not that I think your parents won’t be loving!” He stops rocking, and frowns deeply at his new friend. “Hey, should I stop talking to give you a chance to talk back?” A nod, then silence.

“Alright. Now that you’re done. My name is Matthieu, I’m also ten. Daddy and I just moved here last week. It took a bit for me to get into the school system. I don’t want to switch places, or have a sleepover with you. I don’t know you.” He answers the bare minimum, despite knowing every question that was asked. He’s not adopted. He would have already been told that! ...Right? Now he’s not so sure. He looks over Alfred, frowning. He looks like my twin. It can’t be. Can it?

“Pfffft! You still call your Dad ‘Daddy’! We’re too old for that, dude! We’re big boys now! Men.” He hops up, placing his hands on his hips in a superhero pose. “See? Men! Little men. We don’t need to call them that anymore!” Matthieu hugs himself. He doesn’t like this loud boy. He’s too energetic. He plops back down next to him, and lays his head on his shoulder. He hopes he doesn’t have head lice. “Though it would be nice to be able to call him that again. I might try it. I miss it. Thanks! Oh! Here!” He pulls something out of his pocket. “I’ll share my scone with you for that! You’ll love it.” Alfred feels the boy next to him shudder, and wraps an arm around him tightly. “It’s not cold out here. Why are you cold? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the nurse? Want me to walk with you? I will! I’ll even ask if we can go. You’re too quiet to be heard by them. Hey, that’s a good idea! I’ll be your voice from now on! Tell me what you want to say as quiet as you want, and I’ll say it as loud as I want! That’ll be great! I can’t wait to do that!”

“I’m alright,” he mumbles, staring at his fingers. He very much dislikes that he likes having someone his age hug him. Sure, cuddles and hugs and kisses from his father are nice, but he always feels too big. “If I ask Daddy about sleeping over and he says yes, will you hold me like this the entire time?”

“Mmhmm!” He nods his head dramatically. “I will! Anything to make my new friend happy!”

“Then your father isn’t cooking. I’ll ask Daddy if he can make us something. He’s a professional chef.” Normally, he wouldn’t gloat about that. But he has to do something to stage this kid up. He’s got so much confidence, and courage, and everything Matthieu has ever wanted. It feels like the only thing he has on him is his father’s job.

“Profes… What’s that word mean?”

“He’s very good at it.” Well, and maybe his vocabulary. But that’s nothing to brag about. That makes him a nerd. Prime picking on material. That’s part of the reason he stays so quiet and to himself. He doesn’t want to be picked on again.

“Ooooooh yes! Please! I wanna eat something he makes! Dad isn’t a chef, but he’s still the bestest cook to me! I have to say that though, he’s my dad. And I love him very much. Don’t worry though! I’ll be honest about your dad’s food. I can’t wait!” Alfred hugs his new friend tighter. “Do you live with anyone else? If not, we should totally have a mega sleepover! You and I, and our dads! I’m sure they’d love to get to know each other. What parent doesn’t want to get to know their child’s best friend’s parent?” Matthieu shrugs, not knowing what else to do. He’s never really had a friend before now. “Here!” He shoves a piece of paper into his hand. “It’s my dad’s number. I’m supposed to keep that paper in my pocket for safety reasons, but I want your dad to call him! I’ve got it memorized, I’ll write another one when we go back in. Please have him call when you get home! I want to be able to do this sleepover tomorrow! And let’s go all weekend!” He looks up, and frowns deeply. “Awwww man! It’s time to go in. You know what to do, right? I’ll talk to you later!” He stands and runs off. What a strange boy. He glances down at the paper in his hand. This is going to be interesting.

Alfred bursts into his father’s classroom, a million things to say about his new friend. Arthur has to take both of his hands, squeeze, and tell him to breathe. He closes his eyes to do so, and takes maybe ten deep breaths. “Do you think you can answer my questions without getting off topic now?” He nods frantically, and his dad smiles at him. “Thank you. What’s your new friend’s name?”

“Matthew! No, that’s not right. He said it really weird, I think it’s another language.”

“Perhaps. I’ll ask his father when he calls. You said he was going to do that, right?”

“Mmhmm! Can we have a sleepover tomorrow?” Arthur sighs.

“We’ll have to see. I’ve got a test tomorrow, and I might need extra time grading. I can’t watch the two of you and grade at the same time.”

“His dad can watch us! He’s coming over too, I think. He’s cooking for us. He’s a profesonel chef! And then he’s going to stay the night with you, if that’s okay? That way we can have a mega sleepover! Matthew and I, and you and his dad! We should watch movies and cuddle!” Arthur takes in the information without struggle. He’s assuming Alfred meant professional chef. He’ll have to help him with his pronunciation on that. As for the sleepover…

“I would very much like to have a sleepover with him as well, but I’m sure he has to work. I don’t mind watching the two of you if I can get my grading done. I will speak with him about that. If he doesn’t mind staying until I’m finished, you two can have your sleepover.”

“Yay!” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and crosses his arms over his chest. “I wanna tell him now though. Can he hurry and call!?”

“Alfred. You know not everyone works here. His dad might not even be home when he gets there. Or he might stay somewhere else until he can be picked up. Give it a little bit, alright? Here. Why don’t you draw me a picture of Matthew?” He hands him a pile of printer paper and some crayons. “That way I can know how similar you two truly are.” He runs over to one of the desks excitedly. Thank goodness that distraction worked.

“Daddy!” Matthieu runs toward Francis. He picks him up, and hugs him close. The boy buries his nose in his hair, smiling brightly.

“Oh? I see that smile. What brought that on? Did something good happen on your first day at your new school?” He nods, giggling quietly.

“It did! I made a new friend! I think. He looks a lot like me, Daddy. Do you know if I have a brother? We’re the same age, so he’d be my twin. He says he’s adopted, too, so I… I thought it might be possible. He said something about me being adopted? It made me think. I’ve never heard you talk about mom.” Francis sighs heavily.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way. And I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier. I just… I didn’t want you to love me any less, I suppose. You are adopted. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see you as my perfect little boy. I love you very much. You know that, right?”

“Mm, I do!” He giggles again as he nods, wrapping his arms as far around Francis’ shoulders as he can. “I sort of figured I was adopted after he said that. It’s okay! I love you exactly the same. No! Actually, I love you more now! You chose me. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He kisses his cheek. “So don’t feel bad for it, okay, Daddy? I promise it doesn’t hurt! And I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t get Alfred, if he’s my twin.”

“He is. I desperately wanted him as well, but he had already been adopted. I’m guessing by his dad now. I was told he wanted both of you, too, but was denied. He couldn’t bear to leave both of you though, so he adopted your brother. Not that there was anything wrong with you! Alfred would cry without him. He adopted the one that seemed hurt more by his absence. You’ve always been my sweet independent boy, so that makes sense. I’m glad you two have found each other though. Who knew we would move to the same area?” He laughs softly.

“It’s like fate wanted us together! All four of us.” He squeezes his shoulders lightly. “Alfred wants us to spend the night with him and his dad. Both of us. He called it a mega sleepover. You’re supposed to call to talk to him, when we get home. I got his number!” He tugs the paper out of his pocket and hands it to his father.

“Alright. I can at least call. But let’s go home first, oui?” He walks toward the vehicle, smiling at his son’s excited nod.

Alfred perks up when he hears Arthur’s phone ringing. That must be Matthew’s dad! “Hello, Arthur speaking.” There’s a quiet laugh from the other end that makes him blush a bit.

“Hello, Arthur. Are you Alfred’s father? I’m Matthieu’s father, Francis. He told me to call you?” So that’s how it’s pronounced.

“Ah, yes! It’s nice to speak with you. Alfred tells me he met your son today and made plans with him. I apologize. He can get carried away. He shouldn’t have decided on anything without our input.” He gives his son a pointed look.

“It’s alright! I don’t mind. I’d do anything for Matthieu’s first friend. So he mentioned the mega sleepover?”

“That he did. I told him we might have to work. But if you’re off tomorrow afternoon, they can have their sleepover. I may have to grade papers and I can’t watch them without help while I do that. If you’re okay with helping.” There’s a playful scoff.

“I’m not hearing the part where I stay all night, like they have planned.”

“I- You can! Please don’t think you aren’t welcome! I thought you would have to work is all.” His cheeks flush crimson.

“You’re forgiven. For now. I make sure I have the weekends off to spend time with Matthieu. If he wants that time to be with Alfred and you as well, then I’ll gladly go with him.”

“I would do the same for Alfred.” A comfortable silence falls between them. After a moment, he remembers something. “Oh! Alfred said they planned for us to sleep together.” He lowers his voice so his son can’t hear. “They don’t realize we aren’t as carefree as them. We can discuss sleeping arrangements when you arrive. I’ll send you the address. What time should I expect you?”

“Around five. I have something important to talk to you about as well.”

“Alright. We will eagerly await your arrival tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Have a wonderful rest of your day.” This makes Arthur blush even more.

Francis looks back at Matthieu when he pulls up to Arthur and Alfred’s house. “You ready for your first sleepover, kiddo?” He hugs his stuffed polar bear tighter to his chest.

“I-I think so! But my legs are all wobbly. Can you carry me in?”

“Of course I will. Anything for my sweet little boy.” He hops out, and opens Matthieu’s door. He unbuckles him from his carseat, and picks him up. He grabs hold of his overnight bag as well, then closes the door, making sure to lock up the vehicle. He kisses Matthieu’s hair reassuringly, and walks up to the door. “Do you want to knock?”

“Yes please!” He reaches out and taps the door. Apparently Arthur is waiting for them to arrive, because the door swings open a second later.

“Hello, and welcome to our home.” Matthieu wiggles to be let down before they even get inside, and Francis places him down carefully.

“Thank you very much! Alfred! Where are you!?” He runs into the house.

“He’s usually very shy. I’m glad he’s found a friend that he feels comfortable around.” He looks at Arthur, who’s got a shocked expression on his face. “What?”

“He and Alfred look almost exactly alike,” he whispers.

“Oui, they do. But you know why.”

“He’s the twin I couldn’t adopt,” his voice is louder now, though barely. Francis nods.

“He is. I’m happy they found each other. But what are the chances we would move to the same area?” He laughs heartily. “It’s like fate wanted them together again. I’m glad.”

“How are we going to tell them that?”

“I’ve already told Matthieu. I hadn’t realized you didn’t tell Alfred yet.”

“I didn’t think they looked as similar as he said. Alfred has a tendency to hyperbolize everything.” Francis snorts quietly. Arthur scoffs. “What? Did you not expect an English teacher to use that word?”

“An English teacher, hmm? That only slightly explains your inability to cook. Alfred offered Matthieu some of the scone you made him, and he told me he feared for his life.” Arthur snaps his head around, ready to chew him out. His heart skips a beat. It’s the first time he’s looked at Francis, and he feels light headed. He’s beautiful. Shit! This isn’t good! His house guest is super fucking attractive!

“Not all of us can be professional chefs,” he settles on, looking away again.

“Oui, that is true. Though I can teach you, if you would like to learn?” He shouldn’t take the offer. That’s torturing himself. But he finds himself nodding. “Great! We can start tonight. After you’re done grading, of course. I’ll go watch the boys until then. Where might I find them?” Arthur steps back, and points at the door to Alfred’s room silently. He smiles at him, and walks toward it. Well shit. He’s royally fucked. ~

“You have a stuffed polar bear?” Matthieu nods sheepishly. “Cool! Are they a comfort item? I have one of those! His name is Toni. He’s an alien!” He crawls up on his bed, and grabs Toni. “See? I sleep with him every night. Does yours have a name?” He nods once. “Nice! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know it can be personal.” He shrugs, and slides back down to the floor, holding Toni close. “What do you wanna do first? Dad’s still got to grade some, but we can start on the fun! They can join later. We’ll get the ball rolling. Whatever that means. I’ve heard dad use it a few times, so I know I’m using it right!” Matthieu giggles quietly. He really likes his brother. They’re each other’s opposite. Perfect for completing each other. He wraps his arms around him, giving him a big hug. “What’s this for?”

“To show you how much I love you.” Alfred brings his arms up to hug him back.

“I love you too! So much. And we’re going to love each other even more, as the night continues! I can’t wait for it.” Someone opens his door, and he turns his head to it. “Oh! Hello there! You must be Matthew’s dad! You’re very pretty, you know. Prettier than most women I know!” He chuckles softly.

“Thank you. I’m glad to see you two getting along. Matthieu, do you want to change into your night clothes?”

“Please!” Francis smiles fondly, and hands him his overnight bag.

“Oh! Of course! You can change in my bathroom!” Alfred points at a door inside his room. “It’s over there!” How sweet of Arthur to give him the ensuite room. Though he did the same for Matthieu. They must think similarly. He watches his son walk into the room after pulling out his clothes. “Hey! You should change into your night clothes too! Jeans are uncomfortable.” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I have to cook first. But I will when I’m finished, alright?”

“Pinky promise?” He holds out his hand.

“Pinky promise.” He kneels, and grabs Alfred’s pinky with his own. The boy grins, and throws his arms around him. “Aren’t you quite the hugger?” He laughs. “I’m glad Matthieu made friends with someone so friendly.”

“Matthew’s great! I love him already. He loves me, too! He told me so.” He pulls away to cross his arms over his chest proudly. “But I’m sure he loves you still! Just like I love my dad still.”

“I’m sure he does. Love isn’t a limited feeling. The more it’s needed, the more it shows up.” Alfred furrows his brows slightly.

“Matthew and I don’t love you both any less, but we love each other more than we did. Does that mean if you and dad come to love each other, you will still love us the same you already do?” Francis feels his cheeks heat up slightly in embarrassment. He picks Alfred up and brushes his nose against his cheek.

“That’s right. We might love you both even more by then. If that happens. I’m not going to promise it will. But it could.” Alfred’s eyes light up.

“Then you would move in together and Matthew and I would never have to be apart! Except for at school, but everywhere else we could be together!” He gasps. “We could have sleepovers every night!” He wiggles out of Francis’ arms and runs over to Matthieu, who’s just come out of the bathroom. “We have to get our dads together! We’d be able to have a sleepover every night! We’d live in the same house! Let’s get them together, pleeeeeeeeeeeease!”

“Daddy says love isn’t something you can force. And they’d have to be in love for that to happen.” Alfred’s bottom lip trembles, and he starts crying. “Hey! Okay! Alright! We can try. Just stop crying. Please.” He wipes at his tears. “I don’t want to see someone I love crying.” He hugs him tightly. “Just don’t be disappointed if they don’t wind up loving each other, okay?” Alfred nods, hiccuping slightly from his outburst of tears. “Shh. I’m right here. I’ll soothe you.” He glances up at his father, who’s standing in the doorway with an amused expression. “Go find Arthur, Daddy! We’ll be fine!”

“Yeah! We’ve got to plot! Shew! Go! You can’t hear any of this!” He laughs, and leaves the room without protest. He finds Arthur, and leans against the wall next to him.

“Just thought you should know, our sons are plotting ways to get us together currently. They want a sleepover every night.” Arthur groans quietly, but doesn’t look up from his grading.

“It was Alfred’s idea, wasn’t it? No need to answer, I know it was. I’d hate to disappoint them. Should we just let them plot for now?” Francis raises a brow.

“Don’t you think we should stop it before it becomes something serious?”

“I’ve never seen him this happy. I want to enjoy it a bit more before I tell him anything.” He sighs softly. “I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass when I told him boys could love boys, and girls could love girls. And everyone in between.”

“I wondered why he used a neutral term for Matthieu’s polar bear. Now I know. He’s got a wonderful father.” He notices Arthur’s cheeks turn red.

“I’m only teaching him love and acceptance. That shouldn’t mean I’m a wonderful father. It should be the norm.”

“But it isn’t. And that’s what makes you wonderful for doing it. I’m teaching Matthieu the same things.” Arthur looks up at him. “It’s relieving, knowing I can make a friend with the same views I have about that.”

“I suppose it is. But are we friends? We aren’t their age anymore. Looking at each other doesn’t make us friends.”

“Maybe not. But I would say trusting me to watch your child, and trusting me to be in your house, counts as friendship. I view us as friends. Don’t you?” Arthur rolls his eyes, and goes back to grading.

“I know you wouldn’t do anything. You’ve got a child as well. We aren’t friends because we don’t know much about each other.” Francis scoffs.

“Then let’s change that. You’re an English teacher. I’m a chef. Your name is Arthur. Mine is Francis. We both have beautiful little boys that are actually twins. That alone should be enough for us to be friends.”

“I really must finish grading. Please, leave me be. We can speak when we cook. Feel free to sit on the couch and watch something. I have a feeling Alfred and Matthieu will come out if they hear the television going.” Not wanting to push anything, Francis does as he’s told. Arthur was right; the two boys come out less than a minute after he turns on the television, and cuddle up to him and each other.

“Well, good to see you three getting along.” Arthur smiles at them. Alfred launches himself into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“You’re finished! Yay! Can we have macaroni and cheese tonight? And chicken nuggets!”

“Some corn, too?” Comes Matthieu’s quiet voice. Before he can respond, Francis is speaking.

“Of course you can.” He kisses both of them on the forehead, then looks at Arthur. “But I won’t stand for boxed food. Can you watch after Matthieu for a bit? I’m going to get ingredients.” He nods slowly. “Merci!” He pulls his car keys out of his pocket, and is out the door before Arthur can comprehend what happened.

“Ooooooh! Chef food!” Matthieu lets out a snort of laughter. It reminds both of the people with him of his father’s amused laugh.

“Sorry I ran out so fast. I was inspired. Can you put on a movie for the boys? Then meet me in the kitchen!” He hurries to the room, washing his hands while he waits on Arthur. He grins at him when he comes into the room a few minutes later. “Great! Wash your hands.” He does so silently. “Do you know how to make corn on the cob?”

“Boil some water, right?”

“Okay. Can you get some bowls for the chicken? I’m going to bread it.”

“What? Is that not how you make corn?” Francis smiles sweetly at him.

“It’s better in the oven.” Arthur blushes slightly. He feels silly now. Why has he never thought of that? “It’s alright. I don’t expect you to know all of my tricks. That’s why I’m teaching you. If you knew them already, there wouldn’t be a point in doing this.” Arthur nods slowly. That makes sense! He hurries to pull out some bowls for Francis. “You can boil some water for the macaroni though. After we make the noodles.” Make the noodles!? What on Earth!

“Are we doing everything from scratch?”

“Absolutely.” This is going to be a long prep. “Let’s see… Noodles first. They have to rest for a bit. I can cut the chicken while that happens.” He pulls out some ingredients, and starts whisking them together. He explains exactly what he’s doing to Arthur, smiling the entire time. Once the pasta is resting, he washes his hands again, and shifts to cutting the chicken into cubed pieces. He covers them in a flour, season salt, salt, and pepper mix, dips them in egg, then in breadcrumbs. He places each one carefully on a pan, placing them in the oven when he’s finished. Arthur’s stomach knots up nervously when he leans close to him to wash his hands. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He shakes his head quickly.

“I think I can do that in the future.”

“Good. They’re much healthier than anything store bought. And tastier. I’m sure Alfred will appreciate it.” He pulls away, and Arthur lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “On to the pasta!” He starts folding it delicately. Arthur… tries. And very miserably fails. “Here. Like this.” He takes his hands and moves them carefully, showing him how to do it. He can feel his heart beating fast. Francis is stunning. He feels special, having him here to teach him all of this. “Try on your own?” He does, focusing hard on the dough in front of him. He actually manages to make one.

“I did it!” He smiles brightly, laughing a bit. “I didn’t think it was possible! Thank you!” He turns to hug him, and freezes. Right. They’re not close enough for that. He goes back to making pasta, head bowed and cheeks flushed. When they’re finished, Francis places them aside, washes his hands again, and fills a pot with water to boil it. Arthur washes his hands, and starts shucking the corn. At least he can do that! Francis watches him curiously, but doesn’t comment. Hopefully that means he’s doing good? He hands them off to the man when they’re clean, and he places them on a sheet to be buttered.

“It’s sweet corn, so it’s better to only butter them. Other types you want to prepare differently.” Arthur nods. He’s actually understanding this! “Would you like to put them in?” He carefully takes the pan, and slides them into the oven, next to the chicken nuggets. He trusts that Francis knows what he’s doing. “Now for the macaroni.” He pushes them into the boiling water, and stares intently at them. He drains them way sooner than Arthur expected. Seeing his confusion, Francis explains it to him. “Fresh pasta cooks a lot faster.” “Ah.” He bows his head again, blushing more. He glances up just in time to see his companion adding shredded cheese and milk to the noodles. “Even the cheese has to be made like this?”

“It’s better this way, trust me.” He bites his bottom lip, and measures out some breadcrumbs. He tosses those into the macaroni and cheese, and stirs them in. That’s… interesting. “They’re really good. I promise.” He gives him a reassuring smile, then checks on the items in the oven. He pulls out the corn, but leaves the chicken nuggets. Maybe three minutes pass before he deems them done. He turns to grin at Arthur. “Doesn’t that feel better? Oh, by the way, you’re covered in flour from the pasta.” He brushes his shirt off lightly. Fuck. His hand is warm, and gentle, and Arthur steadfastly ignores the pleasure that comes from him touching his chest.

“I should probably go change. You should, too.” He gives him a polite, slightly concerned smile. “You must be hot in that. I don’t know how you cook with sleeves.”

“I guess I’m used to it. But oui, I’ll change too. Then we can all eat!”

~ Did Arthur already mention he’s royally fucked? Because he is. He’s been staring at Francis for the past two and a half hours. He only knows it’s been that long because that’s the length of the movie that just ended. He didn’t watch a second of it. “I’m glad we were able to tell the boys they’re actually twins. I think they took it well. Don’t you?” He looks at the two between them. They’re snuggled up to each other, asleep. Matthieu is beside Francis, and Alfred is beside him.

“I think they’re happy to have each other in any way. Being brothers just makes it better.” Francis nods thoughtfully.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about their plan to get us together.” Not this. Anything but this. “I don’t think we should ruin their fun.”

“We have to. We can’t let them think there’s a possibility of moving in together sometime soon.” Francis looks him dead in the eyes.

“Who’s to say there isn’t a possibility? I know you’ve been staring at me. For the entire length of the movie. Do you even know what we just watched?” His face turns crimson, and he jerks his head to the side. “I thought so. Don’t worry though.” He carefully reaches over the boys to grab Arthur’s hand and squeeze, causing him to look at him again. “The only reason I know you’ve been staring at me is because I’ve been staring at you. More discreetly, of course, but I have. You’re cute. And I love your eagerness to learn. I hope that exists in every category.” He winks at him, then runs his tongue along his teeth. Arthur shudders at the implications.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he huffs out indignantly. Francis raises a brow at him. It’s a challenge. Are you sure this is the route you want to take? It is. “Besides, I’m only eager to learn because there’s so much I don’t know yet.”

“I can teach you something right now, if you want.” He squeezes his hand again. “I know I want to.” He licks his lips.

“That depends on what it is. And where our relationship stands if it’s what I think it is.”

“It’s definitely not as bad as what you’re thinking it is. But I won’t do it if you aren’t willing. As for our relationship… Will you be my boyfriend?” There’s the word. That darn word that has Arthur’s face practically on fire from the embarrassment! He nods, feeling too shy to say anything. “Good. Now I want to teach you something.” He releases his hand, and carefully stands, making sure not to wake the boys. He picks Arthur up, still being cautious. “Where’s your room?”

This is your stopping point if you’re not reading the blowjob part

“U-upstairs. First door on the right.” He clings to Francis tightly, stomach twisting nervously. He makes his way to the room, and sets Arthur down on the bed. To his relief, he doesn’t get over him. Instead, he kneels by the bed after locking the door. “Oh! You want to do that!” He covers his face. Wearing sweatpants wasn’t the best idea. It’s super easy to tell he’s horny.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” He nods nervously.

“I am.” Francis grabs both of his thighs from behind and squeezes reassuringly.

“I promise to be gentle.” He presses a heated kiss to his bulge. Shit that feels good! It’s been too long since someone else touched him. He lets out a quiet whine.

“More. Please.”

“Non, not until you’re completely hard.” He kisses it again. Arthur’s breath hitches, and he tilts his head back. “You’re very sensitive. This will be fun.” He tightens his grip on his thighs, and sucks lightly. Arthur squirms a bit. This will be really fun. “Try not to wake Alfred and Matthieu,” he mumbles before tugging at his pants. He lifts his hips up, letting him slip them off easily. He can’t help but smile when he sees his underwear. “Superman.”

“Shush. Alfred picked them out. He wanted me to know I’m his hero. Now continue. Please.” Francis nods, and sucks on his bulge again. He jerks slightly, letting out a faint squeak. He breathes out through his mouth to tease him, and is surprised to feel hands in his hair.

“That’s how you want to play?” Arthur nods. Francis smirks, and bites down lightly on the fabric. His hair gets tugged on, and Arthur jolts slightly.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. He reaches for his pillow, and brings it to his mouth so he can bite down on it. He’s not going to be able to keep himself silent. Francis bites down again, and he moans heartily into the fabric. His erection is already nearly as hard as it can be. “You’re good with your mouth,” he mumbles into the pillow.

“I know I am~” He nips at it lightly, then tugs on his underwear. Arthur lifts himself up, letting him take them. He presses a kiss to the head with a smirk. “Beautiful,” he whispers before taking all of it into his mouth. Arthur is definitely going to take advantage of him seemingly not having a gag reflex. He bucks his hips, reveling in the quiet noise of surprise Francis makes. He pulls on his hair, guiding him up his shaft a bit. He pulls away from his pillow to talk.

“It’s really hard to resist doing what I want, so I’m going to ask if it’s okay. I won’t do it if you say no, but I really want to fuck your mouth. Can I?” Francis’ eyes widen slightly. Arthur smirks, knowing that’s not what he expected. “What? I like being in control~” He watches the man shudder, then nod. Immediately, he starts moving his hips. Slowly at first, then a bit faster. Francis tightens his jaw slightly, causing him to drag his teeth along the top. Arthur shoves his pillow back in his mouth and moans loudly. He tries to make eye contact, but he tightens his jaw again. Arthur tosses his head back in pleasure as his teeth rake along the top and bottom. Francis brings a hand up, running it along his thigh. He pauses to fondle him for a moment, then continues back more. He pushes one finger into Arthur, and he screams into the pillow. He’s close! And coming undone.

He tugs harder on his hair, now guiding his head back and forth, in time with his hip thrusts. “Oh God!” it’s loud enough to hear through the pillow. He lets himself enjoy it for a few more moments, before deciding he’s too close to tempt fate. He releases Francis’ hair and scoots back, but he comes with. “You want me to…?” He nods. Arthur flushes crimson, but grabs his hair again. He gives a few smaller thrusts, then a big one that pulls a scream-moan from his lips and lets him reach his release. He rides it out, thrusting a few more times, before releasing Francis’ hair for the night. He feels the finger slip out of him and shudders. They both pant heavily, not looking at each other. Just as he parts his lips to ask Francis if he wants the same done to him, he moans loudly, trembling with pleasure. “Did you just…?”

“Masturbate while I was sucking you off and finish while I was swallowing down your release? Yes.” Arthur shoves his face into the pillow, completely embarrassed. He peeks out when he feels a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to clean up a bit. Then we should put the boys to bed. Can we sleep together tonight?”

“You don’t need to ask,” he mumbles out shyly. He hugs the pillow to his chest, and sticks his tongue out at Francis. “I want you to sleep with me.” He smiles brightly. “And I’m happy to report you taught me some very valuable information that I will be using in the future. Hopefully the near future.” He winks at him. “Oh, and the bathroom is across the hall. Towels are in the linen closet.” He blows him a kiss as he opens the door. “Have fun, sexy.” His ears turn red and he leaves the room quickly. Arthur stands, stretching himself out. He’s not got any mess to clean up, so he pulls his clothes back on and wanders out into the hall. He meets up with Francis, who kisses him deeply. He doesn’t even mind not knowing if he brushed his teeth or not.

“Let’s put those two to bed and make out until we fall asleep.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

#frukweek2020 #day 6 #fruk #aph face #aph face family #aph america #aph canada #aph england #aph france #why did i make this #the characters took over #kinda smut #no its smut #smut #this is my first time writing something like this in detail

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writings-in-ebony · 4 years

Text

Extended Vacation - 2

Summary: You have to prove yourself to Steve’s friends and your journey finally begins!

Author’s note: Hello everyone! Why is Reader such a tease? Because SHE IS ABLE TO BE ONE! She’s a badass!

A reminder: Prompt was created by @sugarthicc and she gave me permission to write this.Thanks again!

Prompt: Have reader have a personality like Meg the Stallion.

Word Count:1872

Warnings: Bad language

Chapter 2

“Steve falls off his bike, what do you do?” The questions and scenarios were seemingly endless, but understandable. You were sitting in a chair, a rather uncomfortable one mind you, facing the suffocating intimidation of Bucky, Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to them, you were extremely prepared for this and any questions they threw at you. After Steve officially took you on as his assistant, you spent countless hours researching his friends, his enemies, and anything you felt like you had the right to know. You also made sure to study different scenarios and issues that might crop up during your journey. So, yeah, you were prepared for everything they threw at you. But the cold, killer expressions from Bucky and Natasha didn’t help in easing any nerves.

“I immediately pull over my car, survey traffic and proceed to help him off the road. If he sustained any injuries, I would go to my car and retrieve my first aid kit.”

“There is an attack on your hotel and the lights are shut off. All methods of contacting the outside are jammed or shut off. What do you do?” Bucky asked this questioned and leaned over the table, as if he was going to pounce you. As if he dared you to say something stupid. But you didn’t flinch because that’s what they wanted, you to break.

“I go get Steve in the next room,” you were cut off by Natasha’s hand slapping the table.

“What if he’s not in the next room? He’s in the pool, on the twentieth floor, while you are on the tenth.” She immediately made the situation more complicated.

“I would retrieve my phone since the pool is most likely open air if it’s on the twentieth floor. Quietly take the stairs since the elevators are down and make it to Steve as fast as I can.” You barely got out your last word before Sam was interjecting with his own additions.

“You get there, and Steve has a knife in his leg and a gun aimed at his head. What do you do?” Before you could answer, the door to the interrogation room slammed open and there stood both Steve and Tony. They aimed disapproving glares at the trio in front of you.

“You know when I said make sure the new girl feels “welcome”, I didn’t expect that “welcome” to be a full-blown interrogation session,” Tony ground out. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Sam beat him to the punch.

“We have to make sure that she is prepared for every situation. She is basically the only person in charge of America’s hero on this trip. Someone who just arrived only a month prior. Who has no knowledge of Steve and how- .” He stopped when he heard your chair abruptly scrape the concrete floor.

“I’m sorry to interject, Mr. Wilson. But I thoroughly researched and analyzed not only Mr. Rogers, but his enemies and his friends. Steven Grant Rogers has no physical health issues currently listed in his file. He suffers from insomnia, night terrors and nightmares, which I got by looking at his mental health notes and the inconsistent visitations to his psychiatrist. They usually occur on the weekdays but will definitely happen after a mission. He is not on any prescribed medications, primarily due to his metabolism, and his last panic attack was around three years ago.” You completely ignored the shocked expressions of Steve, Sam and Tony. Bucky kept his expression nonchalant and Natasha only raised an eyebrow. But you kept going.

“Mr. Rogers has fourteen major enemies whose whereabouts are currently not near any of the locations we will be visiting, but I talked with Mr. Fury about making sure that there’s security on standby in all our locations anyway. I also made sure that Jarvis is installed in all my devices so that he can monitor and track our locations and offer me any feedback and updates.”

“As for friends, Steve Rogers has a close connection with Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, and Tony Stark. I noticed with the younger Avengers they look up to him as a father figure or brother. It depends. With his friends, Mr. Rogers naturally relaxes and lets out his true personality. I’ve observed that he’s sarcastic, sassy, and loves listening to conversation even if he, himself, cannot understand what the subject is or its context. In unknown or strange company however, Mr. Rogers displays shy or reserved behavior. Negative behaviors include stubbornness, irrational thinking, and the tendency to thrust himself into dangerous situations without thinking of his own health. But I can literally go on about what I found, but it’s fruitless. Ms. Romanov has already researched into me and read my file, anyway.” Tony and Sam looked dumbstruck as their gazes fell on Natasha. She didn’t even look at them, instead she aimed a smirk at you and you officially took that as a win.

“How did you know Natasha researched you?” Tony slowly asked.

“Oh! Jarvis makes a note of everyone who views the files and she and Ms. Potts already researched me and read up on me. I just wanted to check to see who read my file.” You let a small smile slip and Bucky scoffed.

“I like her,” he grumbled, obviously trying to hide a smile. “Well, if Natasha read your file and you still have both legs, I take it you fit the bill.”

“She does,” Natasha admitted.

“But why the interrogation?!” Sam looked at her as if she betrayed him.

“Because I had to scare her and see her reactions,” she shrugged. “She passed, but I’ve been watching her this entire month. She’s fine in my book.” You smiled warmly at her and she winked at you, proceeding to exit the room. Bucky and Sam followed also, but Sam was giving her an earful for her deception. Tony apologized for their behavior which you quickly dismissed and excused. He made his exit and that left you with a blotchy-faced Steve.

“Wow, you…uh…know so much about me. Like a lot,” he admitted. He was extremely uncomfortable, and you walked towards him, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Steve, I just wanted to be prepared for my job. If I didn’t know everything that made you tick or could put you in harm, my job would be pointless and your friends wouldn’t even let me be in the same room as you, let alone accompany you on a cross-country trip. If you wanna know about me, I’ll send you my file immediately and you can read everything. I thought you would anyway.”

He bashfully looked at the ground, realizing that he should’ve done that. “I didn’t want to invade your privacy. I…uh…thought I could figure you out without a piece of paper telling me,” he sounded a little bitter and you understood where it was coming from.

“I didn’t get half of the things I just said from reading a piece of paper. This entire month was dedicated to me watching you from afar. I did my own character analysis, while asking others what they see you as. You might not like this, but you’re very transparent.” He visibly winced. “And as you’ll come to realize, I am very blunt. But just because I know about some of your secrets, does not reflect how I view you as a person. That very first day, when I called you a badass, was the truth and it still holds up. You’re a hero to America for a reason.” You lightly tapped his shoulder and walked away.

Steve should have known this trip was a bad idea. He should have known! He should have cancelled and claimed he had an illness. But no, that wouldn’t work because Captain America can’t get sick! He was being tormented and the tormenter was you! What could he do as you walked out of the convenience store, long legs bare and shorts riding up on your…? He couldn’t even bring himself to finish. He turned away and continued filling his bike with gas, face heating up and body reacting in ways he wishes it wouldn’t.

You were both stopped at a convenience store somewhere in Pennsylvania. It wasn’t too crowded, given there were already two cars filling up when you both pulled in. It wasn’t a small gas station, but it also wasn’t a large brand either.

Your car was already filled, since it didn’t burn that much gas, and you had decided to get some snacks and drinks for the road. And would he be lying if he said his eyes didn’t track the way you sauntered into the convenience store like you were a queen strolling past her subjects? What possessed you to wear those godforsaken shorts? And that deep V-neck t-shirt that gripped your thickness and put you on display? You were his assistant and here he was, drooling like a kid in a candy store.

“…something to drink,” Steve startled out of his stupor and turned to see you were raising a blue energy drink to his face.

“Huh?”

“I asked did you need something to drink. You look overheated, which is very uncharacteristic. Are you feeling okay?” She gazed up at Steve with big eyes, her lips parted and inviting.

“Thank you, yeah. I’m feeling okay, just a little hot and the wind…Yeah.” God, he sounded like a dumbass. Her eyes furrowed in even more confusion but looked pleased when Steve reached out and grabbed the drink. He really wanted his bike to hurry up and fill because he was running out of other things to stare at.

“So, you liking the trip so far? I know we’re only five hours into the trip, and we have two more hours before we get to Cleveland, but are you enjoying just riding?” She popped open the cap of her own drink.

“Yeah! It’s so…freeing? It’s like I can think about myself without thinking about others. It’s just me and the road. And I wanna thank you for allowing me to have that feeling,” he trailed off as he watched you drink. He fixated on your puckered lips around the top and actually flinched when you popped your lips and released a content sigh.

You turned back to him and smiled up at him, seemingly disregarding his creepy staring. “That’s good. But you know, I’m getting honked by angry citizens for your freedom.” She waggled a finger at him as if scolding him, but a humorous smirk was plastered on her face. He chuckled and heard the nozzle of the gas tank pop. Finally! He quickly removed the nozzle and screwed on the cap to the tank.

“Well, back to driving,” he beamed, swinging his leg over the bike. “You ready?” He looked at you expectantly and you threw him a thumbs up.

“Sure thing, Steve. And by the way,” she walked over to him and leaned down next to his face so that only he could hear. “You don’t have to be so bashful. It’s okay to stare. It’s actually very flattering.” And with that, she squeezed his bicep and sauntered back to her car.

#black!reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x poc!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #poc!reader #marvel fanfiction #extended vacation fic

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Exception | Carter Baizen x Reader (Part 6)

My Masterlist

Summary: You needed Carter. You needed BOTH of them.

Word Count: 6100+

Pairing: CEO!Carter Baizen x Lawyer!Reader, Nate Archibald x Caroline Baizen, Chuck Bass, Lily van der Woodsen, Serena van der Woodsen (mentioned).

Warnings: Swearing, Gossip Girl References, Drugs, Infidelity, Car Accident, Blood, Trauma, Hospital, Teenage Pregnancy

A/N: This is my entry for @baezen‘s writing challenge. A lot of you have been calling me out on things and I must admit that I’m impressed. I’m so glad you all seemed to figure out that there was a child involved. And for those of you who didn’t... SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS! Y’all might get Dad!Carter in this fic! I don’t own the gifs. ELIF, GO AHEAD AND YELL AT ME… SAB, I LOVE YOU. THEORY ANON, LETS SEE WHAT YOUR THEORY IS NOW. :P

It was no joke that Caroline Baizen had spent so many months planning her perfect wedding to Nate Archibald, but she had spent many more months planning her perfect honeymoon with him. It was supposed to be just the two of them in their honeymoon suite at the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah, soaking up the sun on a yacht at the Dubai Marina and making love to each other like the newlyweds they were before they both had to return to the chaos that was the Upper East Side of Manhattan. All of that planning went to shit the moment she got that phone call, saying that her brother had been hit by a car outside of the Gramercy Tavern and had been rushed to the hospital.

Though the police officer who had been kind enough to contact her did not have many details about Carter’s condition, Caroline could not help but hope for the best while expecting the worst. Her heart was beating right out of her chest as she feared for her brother’s life, her husband holding onto her as she sobbed against his chest. It was as though the limo was moving way too slow as she and Nate were on their way to the hospital. She was worried, and scared, for she did not want to lose the only family she had left. Losing their parents in a car accident had been bad enough as it was.

Carter and Caroline never shared the best of sibling relationships, not since he had first cut ties with their parents and left the Upper East Side for good. But when he had returned from being held by the Buckley’s, she had seen that he was a changed man. He had promised her that he would change his ways and do right by everything in his family; he would do right by their parents and he would do right by her. He had done just that since then. Losing their parents had been hard on the two of them, but they got through it together. They had always had each other. But now, even when she had Nate, Caroline felt alone. She did not want to lose her big brother.

To say that Nate had been worried sick about the fate of his brother-in-law would be an understatement. But he was also aware that Carter had plans with you that evening, thanks to Annalise and her commitment to updating him about what was going on between you and Carter since the wedding.

A part of him was worried about you as well. After all, he knew how much he meant to you. Even though in the exterior, you acted like you hated him, Nate knew that you would always love him. Perhaps that was why he had been calling your cell phone ever since Caroline had come crying to him about her brother. But unbeknownst to him, your phone had slipped out of your hand during your fall and shattered on the side of the road, and you had abandoned it for the man who had just saved your life in the matter of seconds.

The man who had saved your life in a matter of seconds was also the man whom you had always believed to be your apocalypse. You had always believed that he was the final destruction of your life. You had blamed him for ruining your life for years, but now he had saved it too.

The reason why you were possibly alive at this very moment was because Carter Baizen had pushed you out of the way and taken the hit from that speeding car. It should have been you and your stupidity. You took all the blame for the fact that your ex-boyfriend of fifteen years was now laying in an operating room with his skull open.

It was as though the guilt that you had been living with for the last fifteen years was not enough. It was as though you needed to be punished even more for having run away the way that you had and for keeping your secret for as long as you had. As if the fact that your whole truth had been eating you alive was not painful enough that it kept you awake at night, you had to face the worst of the consequences that had been caused by your mistakes.

How were you supposed to live with your whole truth like this, especially after Carter had now saved your life? Perhaps it was a blessing and a curse – a blessing was that you had survived the accident with a few scratches and the curse would be living in a world where Carter Baizen was dead. You did not want to live in a world without him.

He could not die, not like this. He had been alive when you had found him lying in a puddle of his own blood. He had been holding onto his dear life and then you had also been holding onto his dear life in your hands when the ambulance had driven you down to the nearest hospital. Your hands had been laced with the crimson fluid that had bled out of him. His blood in your hands, literally.

A team of doctors and nurses had rushed Carter upstairs to operate on him the moment you had arrived at the hospital. His head injury had been a priority. Meanwhile, another doctor had managed to bandage up your bruises.

You made no noise while the exhausted ER doctor worked on you. You did not yell. You did not cry. You did not expel any of the emotions that urged to spew out of you as you held a clean tissue against your nostrils, blotting the last of the blood that dripped down as you had finally stopped crying.

The doctor thought that your newfound calmness it was because you were still in shock from the accident – you were frightened by witnessing your loved one getting struck by a car. It was common for most patients to experience such trauma. But the way you had managed to respond to her queries in with the nod of your head or one word at a time made her realize that you were indeed... lucid. You were not completely traumatized, but you clearly knew how to stay in control of your emotions.

You wanted to break down. You wanted to cry. But what was the point in that? Carter Baizen, the love of your life, the father of your child, was lying lifeless in an operating room somewhere. The father of your child. He was the father of your child and he was lying lifeless in an operating room somewhere...

What kind of a mother had you been? What kind of a mother keeps the secret of becoming a mother from the whole world? What kind of a mother willingly chooses to keep the father of her child as far away from her child’s life as she possibly can? What kind of a mother puts the life of the father of her child in danger? What were you going to tell the fourteen year old you had left behind in London when you had boarded that plane back to New York City? What were you going to say when the child you had birthed and raised on your own gets here in a few days and asks you about her father?

Once the doctor had finished up with you, a handful of nurses had helped you get cleaned up. You could see the pity in their eyes as they helped you into the shower. They must have known from the lifeless look in your eyes, that the man who was being operated on was someone who meant so much to you.

Carter was not some guy you had once dated, no. He was the only man you had ever loved truly. He was the only man who made you weak and vulnerable. He was the only man who knew the real you. He was the father of your child.

Turning on the water, you watched as Carter’s blood dripped away from your skin. The scrubbing may have removed his blood from your hands now, but metaphorically his blood was still on your hands. It was your fault that he was lying lifeless in an operating room right now. He was the father of your child.

Apparently the doctor had told the police that you were in no emotional state to provide a statement, so the kind sergeant who needed to file the report had decided that it was best to give you some time to recover from the incident and return in the morning. Needless to say, you were grateful for that. While you had changed into a fresh pair of scrubs that the nurses had handed to you, you hoped and prayed that Carter would make it out alive from this.

You had always wanted the best for him, even when you had loathed him. Even when you hated him, you loved him. Even when he had ruined everything you had planned for your future, you had wanted him to have a good life.

You never wanted him to suffer for what he had done. You never wanted to punish him even more than you already had. You had convinced yourself that he not knowing that he had fathered a child was punishment enough for the way he had treated you fifteen years ago.

But now, you knew that this punishment was not for him. It was for you. You were being punished for keeping this from him for as long as you had. The possibility that Carter might even die not knowing that he had a child was weighing you down like a boulder. He might even die not ever meeting his child and it was your entire fault.

The moment you arrived in the waiting room to see a crying Caroline Baizen rushing over to you, a worried Nate following right after her and a concerned Anne Archibald grabbing onto your numbing body, that was when you had finally broke down. You knees were weak and your legs were growing numb. You felt your body losing all of its strength as you finally let out the emotions that you had kept bottled up for the last fifteen years all at once.

“Y/N!” Chuck Bass was quick to rush over to you before your knees hit the tiled floor of the waiting room, helping you up and leading you over to the nearest chair so that you could sit down. His lips curled into a frown when he saw you in this state, for he had always known you as this strong spitfire of a young woman before you had fled the Upper East Side. The Y/N he knew never broke down like this. But he also knew that you had always loved Carter and seeing him get hit by a car must have crushed you.

Lily van der Woodsen had sat down right next to you, her arm wrapped tightly around you as she let you sob against her shoulder. Perhaps her maternal instincts had kicked in when she had seen you like that. She had always seen you as another child of hers, perhaps because she had once dated your father.

While you had been against her relationship with your father as a whole and had rejected all of her attempts to be a part of your life, she still felt some kind of love for you. She had forgiven you for being that selfish seventeen year old she knew. She knew that you had grown up now and you had apologized for the way you had treated her then. That was all that mattered to her. She knew that your mother was out of town and at that moment, so she figured that you probably need that kind of support.

No one in the Upper East Side was a stranger to what you had with Carter Baizen. The two of you had been the closest friends since you were young. You had dated during your high school years and you had both fallen in love with each other. While no one knew how your relationship had ended or why you had left New York for good, they all knew that Carter being in this condition would have been hard on you. So, they were all there to offer you the support that you needed while either of your parents could be present.

“It was all... m-my fucking fault...” You whispered between the sobs, the salty tears dripping down to your burning lips as your head began to feel heavy. “I was... crossing the street and... I wasn’t paying attention, I...” You could not get yourself to replay those scenes in your head.

Seeing the way he had been thrown off into the air and the way he had looked up at you before he had fallen unconscious had been burned into your memory forever. He made you realize how wrong you had been about everything for the last fifteen years. He was no apocalypse; he was your savior. “C-Carter... saved my life... he... h-he...” As you felt another sob, Lily hugged you tightly.

You cried as much as you could, in order to be rid of your guilt. But no matter how much you cried, your tears could not make up for the time that you had lost with Carter. Your fifteen year old stupidity had now cost him his life and the woman whom you had refused to accept as your new step-mother back then was now the one who was comforting you. This was your punishment.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. He’ll be okay...” Lily rubbed your back, gently. “I just spoke to William. He’s in surgery and they’re working on him. He’s going to be okay...”

“No, he’s... he was bleeding so much. His head, he... his head was bleeding.” You looked down at your hand that had been drenched in his blood earlier. Even though it had been clean, you could not forget the image of his blood all over it. “He’s... he’s...” You pulled back from the hug to look over at Caroline, your lips curling into a frown as you realized that you had taken away from her the only family she now had left.

You felt like a monster for being the reason behind her brother’s accident. Everything that had ever happened to you had been your doing, not his. “He’s... he saved my life.” Your lips quivered as you stood up from your seat and made your way over to the younger Baizen, your heart breaking at the sight of that little girl whom you had grown to love as a sister long before she had even married into your family. “Caroline... I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. It was my fucking fault. I wasn’t looking and now he... he saved my life but it should have been me. It should have been me.” You fell down to your knees as you grabbed her hands, sobbing louder as you looked down. “It should have been me...”

Caroline shook her head at you. “Y/N, no... Don’t say that. He... he must have had a reason for doing what he did and I respect that. He’s not a selfish guy and if he thought that saving you was more important than saving himself, then I respect that.” She admitted with a nod, sobbing harder as she held onto your hand.

“He’ll be okay. He needs to be. He’s made his mistakes but so have we all. He should be able to live his life like we all do. He’ll be okay.” Even though she felt lost and confused without her brother by her side, she was hopeful. Carter had been through so much and he had turned out alright. She knew that this was just another obstacle that her brother had to cross before he got to live the life he truly deserved.

A few hours had passed as you sat in the waiting room with Nate and Caroline. Lily and Chuck had both left once you had calmed down. You knew that the only reason the two of them had even bothered to be at that hospital in the first place was for you and not for Carter.

While Lily had been a close friend of your father’s over the years, your knowledge of the feud between Carter and Chuck was also reason enough for you to believe that Chuck had no respect for Carter. But you appreciated that they cared for you, considering what you had done.

You had loathed the Upper East Side and the people in it when you had run away so abruptly. But now, not only had the Upper East Side had welcomed you home with open arms, you had also had an entire support system of people to make up for the lack of familial support. You did not deserve any of it.

It had been early morning when you had finally received news from the nurses that Carter’s surgery had come to an end. You overheard the neurosurgeon that had operated on him telling Caroline that he had suffered a traumatic brain injury – while he was alive; they could not be so sure that he would wake up from that. They had given him forty-eight to wake up, and if he did not wake up by then, Caroline had some decisions to make.

While a part of her had been glad that her brother was out of surgery, Caroline broke down once again at the revelation that Carter might not make it. You might not have been a medical expert but you had witnessed just how bad he had been injured; you knew that he was not going to make it out of it that easily.

But you did have some hope that he would make it out alive. You needed him to make it out alive, for your sake and for the sake of your child. The realization that you had indeed taken Caroline’s only family away from her had dawned on you suddenly. But Carter was not only her family. He was yours too. As she broke down in tears again, so did you. But you were quick to step out of the waiting room, away from her gaze.

You found yourself in an empty hallway by a medical supply closet and you began sobbing once again, pacing back and forth as you realized how much you had fucked up. You had fucked up. You knew you had fucked up. And now there was no going back. There was no going back in time to fix the mistakes that you had made.

Nate hugged his wife tightly as she sobbed, rubbing her back as he watched you step out of the waiting room. He turned over to look at his mother with a frown, hoping that Anne Archibald would finally come to her senses and have some empathy for her new daughter-in-law.

The woman gave him a nod as she walked up to the two of them, her hand gently placed on Caroline’s back. “Sweetheart...” She frowned, pulling her into a hug.

“Anne, I can’t lose him...” Caroline shook her head as she cried. “I can’t...”

As he let his mother calm down his wife, he made his way out of the waiting room for a moment. He looked around the hallway before he heard your soft sobs, and following the sound of your quiet cries, he found you leaning against the wall next to the medical supply room. “Y/N...” He frowned at the sight of you, immediately rushing over to your side. He pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/N... come on, you can’t break down like this.”

“Nate, I never wanted any of this to happen...” You admitted as you sobbed against his chest. “I wanted Carter to be away from... I never wanted him to... no, not like this.”

He stroked your hair as he began to tear up; remembering the last time you had been a crying mess like this. It had been fifteen years ago now, when you had called him before you had left for London.

You had confided in him your secret, which he had kept with him since then. Not even his own wife ever came to know the truth, even though she did have every right to know of your whole truth. “Y/N... you need to calm down. The doctors did say that... whether he wakes up or not... it’s not like they were sure that he won’t wake up. They just said that... all we could do right now is wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Nate.” You sniffled as you pulled back from his embrace, wiping away your tears as you felt a drop of blood streaming from your right nostril. “What even is the point of waiting anymore? He might not even wake up. He...”

Nate was quick to reach into his pocket and grab a handkerchief. He handed it to you as he sighed, wrapping his arm around you as he held you close. He had always been your pillar of strength when it came to Carter. He had kept your secret for fifteen years now. But he knew by now that it was about time that you told the truth to everyone. He knew that you must have been thinking about that, as he was too.

You dabbed at your nose as you fought back the tears. “I need to call Carter.” You let out a sigh as you nodded your head, trying to convince yourself that you were sure of what you were about to do. “I need to call Carter right now.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked you, biting down on his bottom lip. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What even is the point anymore, Nate?” You asked him as you broke into another sob and shook your head. “He might not even wake up. He might not... he might never know and it’s all my fucking fault!” You cried. “I was such an idiot, Nate! I was such an idiot for doing what I did and... now he’s... what am I going to do? What am I going to... I have to call Carter.”

Nate gave you a nod as he agreed with your decision. He had always stood by the decisions you had made for yourself, even then and even now. Even if he did not agree with the choices that you had made, he had kept your secret for as long as he had.

He often wondered why you had chosen to call him that night and tell him the truth. Perhaps, it had been for an unforeseeable reason. It was because he was the only one who could give you the support at this very moment.

“Nathaniel... it’s me.”

“Y/N?!”

“Nate.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?! Where are you?! We’ll all been worried about you!”

“Nate, calm down... I’m okay. I’m fine, I... I hopped on a boat from Santorini and got back to Athens. I’m taking the train in a bit... going up to... T-Thessaloniki in the northern part of Greece. I’m going to be on the move for a while so I wanted to speak to you before I left on this journey. I had to speak to you, you know, in case I never get to speak to you again. I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?! What? Are you running away?!?!”

“This guy... Spiros... he told me that I could get to Romania from Thessaloniki in like a day... and then I’ll be in Bucharest for another day and then I’m taking another train to... Budapest and then another day to Munich. Paris, I can get there in like ten hours...”

“Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you taking a train trip around Europe like this? What’s going on? Your dad’s worried. The cops found blood in your hotel room and Carter was questioned.”

“I... I know that there’s a lot going on right now and I hate to do this to you. Don’t tell him... either of them... but uh... I’m going to London. I’m going to see my mom.”

“Y/N, you’re... couldn’t you at least call your dad and tell him that you’re okay before you leave?! He’s been worried sick!”

“Nate, listen to me... I can’t talk to my Pop about anything right now. He... He’s in love and it’s blinded him. If I told him what happened, I know he’s not going to take my side in this. I need to get to London. I need my mom, okay? I really need my mom right now!”

“What’s going on?! Carter’s been asking about you... what happened between the two of you? He said he’s worried sick! What happened?!”

“Nate...”

“Y/N, please tell me the truth. What happened that night? Why did you leave Santorini?”

“Nate, I... I can’t tell you.”

“Y/N, please... we’re family. You called me for a reason. You have to tell me the truth.”

“Promise me... that you won’t tell anyone. No one can know, not my Pop and not Carter. Not your mom or dad. Not even Chuck.”

“Y/N...”

“Promise me, Nate!”

“Fine... I promise. I won’t tell anyone. You have my word, Y/N. Now tell me what’s going on... please?”

“... I’m pregnant.”

“What?!”

“Nate, I’m pregnant... I’m pregnant and it’s Carter’s. And I can’t do anything about it... because he... he cheated on me, Nate! He cheated on me with Serena. He went to a party and she got him high and they... he told me that he loved me and he went off and slept with Serena. He told me that I was his one exception and he knocked me up. He slept with me and now he slept with Serena. I... he cheated on me with Serena and I’m fucking pregnant with his child!”

“Y/N, what- that son of a bitch! Why haven’t you told your dad? Why haven’t you called him?! Please, just fucking call him! He’s worried sick!”

“Because... he loves Lily and... if I told him the truth, I’m scared that he’s going to take the van der Woodsen’s side over mine. Believe me, Nate. He’s done it before and... He treats Serena like this perfect princess and I can’t live through that. He’s never treated me like his daughter ever since she came into the picture and... it’s only going to get worse now. I know I disappointed him. I know that he had all these plans for me and... I went off and got pregnant. I can’t go off to Yale now and take over the company like he’s always wanted me to. He’s going to hate me.”

“Y/N, you can’t leave... you can at least talk to him about it. You can try to figure things out. Come back to New York and figure it out.”

“I can’t go back to New York, Nate. I can’t... Carter is no fit to be a father. He’d rather go off and party and get high than... he’s not going to change his ways. I know him. I thought he had changed and that he loved me but... he went off and cheated on me. I’m not going to bring his child into the world thinking that he’d want a part in that. I’m done putting my faith in him.”

“Y/N, come on... you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to. You don’t owe him shit! But you can’t leave New York over this! You have your dad, you have... all of us. We’re not going to let you do this alone.”

“I’m... leaving, Nate. I’m leaving and I’m never going to come back. I know that... New York is home but... the Upper East Side is not a paradise like I always thought it was, Nate. I’ve had some time to think about this. Our parents gave us a shit tonne of money since we were kids... credit cards with no limits and trust funds... we were spoiled rotten. I was spoiled rotten. I was so caught up with spending my dad’s money and having the time of my life that I never thought about the consequences of any of this... I was an idiot. I was a spoiled, irresponsible... stupid little shit and I ruined my own god damn life. It was all my doing, Nate. I don’t know... what any of our parents were thinking when they raised us the way they did. But... I’m going to be a mom now and there’s a child that’s growing inside of me... a child that’s going to come into this world because I was stupid enough to fall in love with the wrong person. Now I’m seventeen and I’m pregnant, all because of the way I was raised. I don’t want my kid to grow up the way I did... I don’t want my kid to... have a credit card at thirteen or... weekly shopping trips to Saks. I don’t want my kid to... be exposed to alcohol and drugs at a young age. I don’t want my kid to... get drunk at prom and get knocked up in the back of a limo or... get high after a party and cheat on anyone. I don’t want my kid to be any of what I’ve become, Nate... that’s why I’m leaving. I’m not going to let the Upper East Side ruin my child’s life like it ruined me. It’s for the best.”

“Y/N...”

“I love you, Nate. I love you so fucking much, don’t ever forget that. I’ll always be the big sister you never had but... I might not see you again for a while.”

“Y/N, don’t leave... Y/N, please don’t do this.”

“I’m going to miss you, Archibald.”

“Y/N... please...”

“You’ll come visit me in London, right? You won’t forget about me... right? Come see me when you can, okay? I don’t want you to... I love you so much, little bro. But this is for the best. It’s best that I stay away from all of this, for the sake of... your niece or nephew.”

“I love you so much... and please stay safe. Please... don’t leave me hanging. Call me when you get to London and... Call me? Talk to me every now and then... just so that I know... that you’re okay. Y/N... please... don’t let me go like you’re letting go of the Upper East Side.”

“I... should get going, Nate. My train’s about to leave soon and... be careful out there. Tell Chuck not to get in too much trouble and... Don’t let him get you in too much trouble either. I know that Blair Waldorf has a thing for you but... don’t sleep in your feelings for Caroline. Get your shit together, Archibald... because your big sister’s not going to be there to give you any relationship advice. You’re on your own now and you’re going to have to figure shit out yourself.”

“Y/N...”

“You’re going to grow up without me... but I know that... you’re going to make me and all the van der Bilt’s so fucking proud. I’m sure of it, Nate. I love you so much and I’m going to miss you so fucking much!”

“Y/N, don’t go- Y/N!”

Nate Archibald pulled out his phone as he looked over at you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears and holding the handkerchief against your nostril. “I should have done this fifteen years ago, Nate.” You admitted.

You should have done this long before. Even though it was probably too late now, it was better late than never.

Nodding his head, he dialed the number that he had saved in his phone for years now and put his phone on speaker. He had not called this number in a while, probably ever since you and he had a brief fall out regarding his mayoral race.

But the moment he heard the call go through, his heart began to race. He knew that the moment this call had been picked up, every single one of your lives would change in an instant.

“Hello? Uncle Nate? Uncle Nate, is that you?”

“C-Carter...” You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing you daughter’s voice at a time like this. At least you could say that one of them was alive and well.

A part of you was worried about how to break the news to her. Your relationship with your daughter had already been rocky in the last few days, ever since you had left her in London and moved right back to New York.

She had not been happy about you choosing to stay in New York for your father’s sake. After all, London had been where she had been living since she had been born, not to mention the fact that you had sent your mother to bring her to New York instead of being the one to do that. She had been pissed at you for days.

“Mom? Mom, why are you calling me from Uncle Nate’s phone? I told you, I don’t want to hear it! I’m getting tired of telling you and Nan over and over again. I’m not leaving London!” Your fourteen year old daughter groaned into the phone.

“Carter, sweetheart... just listen to me for a sec...” You bit down on your bottom lip as you fought back the tears.

Nate rubbed your back gently as he held you close. “Come on...” He mouthed, knowing that you have to be the only one who should be informing this to his beloved goddaughter.

Carter Eleanor Lydia Y/L/N, even though she was now his niece by marriage, is his goddaughter and that was never going to change. As the only one who had kept in touch with you since you had left New York for good, Nate had been the only one other than your parents and Annalise who knew of her existence. He had been honored to have been asked to be your child’s godfather. After all, he knew that you had trusted him with your child’s life even though you had not even trusted her own father with that.

Not even her own father knew that he had a child and if he does not wake up now, he might as well die not even knowing that he ever had a child. You had told yourself that you were punishing him by keeping your little Carter away from him, but you knew that the only ones who had been punished by this were you and your daughter.

You had always told her that Carter Baizen was her father and you had told her why you had purposefully kept her away from him. While she did not agree with your decisions at first, as she grew older, she began to understand why you had made the decision to raise her on your own. As much as she missed having a dad growing up, she knew that her mother was strong and resilient. She respected that.

But that did not mean that she did not ever want to have some kind of relationship with her father. She wanted to know him as much as she wanted him to know her. But you know that the chances of that happening now were slim. You needed her to come to New York now more than ever!

“Mom... is everything okay?” She asked you, worried about the tone of your voice. Your daughter knew you well enough to know that your voice was trembling. She wondered if something must have happened to your father and not hers, for your father’s health had been the reason why you had returned to New York in the first place and insisted that she move here for the time being as well. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is it Pop? Is he okay?”

“Carter... i-it’s... Pop’s fine, he’s fine... But... C-Carter, it’s your dad. He was in an accident last night and... it’s not looking good.”

“What?! Mom, no... no no no, mom...” She broke down. “Mom... he can’t... no... he doesn’t even know me! He can’t... mom, don’t lie to me!”

“Carter, I’m not... why would I lie to you about this? I’ve always told you the truth when it comes to your dad. I never lied to you about who he was. You knew everything about him... since you were ten. I’m... I’m sorry, baby. This is all my fault, I know... but I need you right now and so does he. C-Can you... can you... your Nan has the private jet on stand-by and she’s packed up most of your things already. Can you... I need you to come to New York as fast as you can, baby.”

“... I’ll be there.”

#togwc #exception #aj writes #carter baizen #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen x you #carter baizen x y/n #carter baizen fanfic #carter baizen fic #carter baizen fanfiction #carter baizen fluff #carter baizen series #nate archibald #gossip girl fanfic #gossip girl fic #gossip girl fanfiction

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Tremor III

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen (may wibble upwards into AO3′s Mature later) Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Scott Tracy, The Hood

Here we go again! This week our sense is Hear from @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday challenge. Part 1 | Part 2

I think it’s time to wake Scott up, although he might disagree with me on that one. While there’s nothing overly graphic, there are depictions of torture in this part.

There was the hum of machinery all around him and passing through him. Some sort of engine, a monster of a beast from the low rumble. It wasn’t the rumble of a Thunderbird; not even Thunderbird Two’s acoustics reached quite as low as this. Certainly, it was nothing like the comforting cry of his own ‘bird.

He shifted, his back resting on something solidly uncomfortable, and there was a heavy clink, like metal hitting metal. Attempts to pull his arms to his sides – why were they above his head, he never slept like that – resulted in a louder clank and he was forced to stop moving by pressure on his wrists. That didn’t bode well.

Where was he? This could be one of Gordon’s pranks, but Gordon knew better than to mess around on a mission, and the last he could recall, he’d been on a rescue. A collapsed mine, a distressed woman, and then- he’d been attacked?

He stilled, running through everything he knew again. He was lying on something hard and unforgiving, with only a thin layer of what felt like rough cotton between his back and the surface. His uniform was gone, as well as anything else he’d been wearing from what he could tell, and there were chains holding his wrists in place. A heavy weight on his ankles suggested that his feet were similarly restrained, legs splayed just past the edge of what would be comfortable. All in all, not a favourable position to be in.

There were other little noises, barely audible over the thrum of engines. A shuffle, the almost silent passage of air in and out of someone’s mouth. Wherever he was, he wasn’t alone.

“I trust your sleep was pleasant?”

Scott considered feigning further unconsciousness. If he didn’t respond, they might just leave him alone and he could work out how best to get himself out of the predicament he’d ended up in. Even if he was no longer wearing his uniform, it should be nearby, and if nothing else John would be tracking it.

“Come, now, Scott,” the voice continued. It was male, silky, coaxing. The sort of thing he heard from the businessmen he trusted the least. It was also bordering on familiar. “You and I both know you’re awake.” He was sure he’d heard that voice before, somewhere. If he could just remember where… “If you wish,” the man continued, “I’ll let you know where you are. You’re currently in one of the sections of my ship; I must apologise for the accommodation – I don’t often entertain guests.”

That told him nothing new, which he suspected was the purpose. Offering useless information to bait him in was a common tactic, and one he’d pulled on younger brothers when required.

His companion sighed.

“A conversation ideally requires more than one participant,” he said neutrally. “Of course, we could get down to business without preliminary small talk, but that would be so impolite. What would your father think?”

A rush of rage flowed through Scott. Who was this man to talk about Dad so casually, so familiarly? How dare he-

All of a sudden, he realised where he knew the voice from, and something unpleasant coiled in his gut. Reluctantly, he pried his eyes open, squinting against the bright light directly above him, and looked over to his side.

The Hood was not someone he’d ever met in person, but he’d watched the Zero-X footage a thousand times, with the same, slimy bald head and drawn cheeks etching themselves into his mind over and over again until he invaded his dreams. This was the man that killed Dad, and – Scott’s stomach lurched – now he was at his mercy. He didn’t think the Hood had much of that.

“Ah, much better,” the Hood said lightly, a patronising smirk twisting his features. There was nothing remotely pleasing to the eye about the entire visage. “We have much to discuss, after all.”

“We have nothing to discuss,” Scott snapped back, his voice still laden with the rasp of groggy awakening. Hazel eyes, a sickly green-yellow rather than Kayo’s much warmer, kinder, gaze, took on a glint of amusement.

“Oh, I assure you we do,” the Hood responded, inspecting his hands lightly. “I think we should begin with the exact nature of your so-called ‘Eye in the Sky’.”

Thunderbird Five. John.

“A space station of some sort?” the man continued, as though he was discussing the weather and not threatening his younger brother. “Presumably one with a Thunderbird callsign, like the rest of your admittedly impressive fleet. Let’s see… a Thunderbird Five?”

Scott glared at him, hoping he couldn’t hear his heart thumping. It was all conjecture, understandable leaps of logic. He didn’t actually know anything, he was just trying to get a reaction from him, to see how close his theories were to the truth. Scott refused to let him know how accurate his guess was.

“You killed Dad,” he accused. “Why would I tell you anything?”

The Hood gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Misunderstandings and defamation of character,” he said with an exaggerated patience. “I did not kill Jeff. He was not invited to join the show, nor did I force him to remain on the ship instead of bailing like a sensible individual. Your father’s tragic demise was entirely of his own creation, I’m afraid. Oh, don’t give me that look. Glaring doesn’t change the truth. He could have saved his own skin at any time, and you know it, Scott.”

His name falling as slick as oil from those thin, bloodless lips did nothing to improve Scott’s mood, and not for the first time, he wished glaring daggers was a more literal description. Anything to get this man away from him, saying half-truths as though they were gospel with a honeyed tongue.

“But we’re not here to discuss the tragedy that was the Zero-X,” the Hood continued, “although I would be willing to commiserate Jeff’s life with you after we get the business out of the way. After all, he was my friend.”

“Liar!” Scott spat, without thinking. “Dad would never be friends with, with-”

“With me?” the Hood finished, leaning forwards and delicately taking hold of his chin. His fingers were spindly and just warm enough to be living, but slimy and raised goosebumps where they touched his skin. “Oh, Scott, don’t you remember me? Captain Taylor might have been awarded with the title of godfather, but I held you back when you were an infant before he ever met you. I dare say the man’s still never got his own godson’s name right.”

It was phrased as an observation, but there was a questioning tilt at the end of the sentence. Scott set his jaw and didn’t answer. That couldn’t be right. He was lying – he was a crook, lying was what he did best.

“Oh, Lucille was never my biggest fan,” the Hood continued when it became apparent he had no intention of confirming or denying. “But you adored me, always crawling to my feet whenever I walked in the house. Never in anything more than a nappy – oh, I’m speaking to an American, diaper. You weren’t the biggest fan of clothing, as I recall.”

Scott felt sick, although he kept his glare up, jaw set against saying anything and waiting for the spidery fingers to release their feather-light touch on his face. His parents and grandparents alike had commented more than once on infant-Scott’s protests against clothes, reminding him as a child whenever he despaired over Gordon’s similar dislike over wearing anything. How the Hood knew that – if it wasn’t a lucky guess – he didn’t want to know.

Those weren’t the sort of details available to the public.

“But we can reminisce later,” the Hood said, finally taking his fingers away. “Business before pleasure, of course. So, International Rescue’s Eye in the Sky?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” he spat, and the Hood sighed.

“Such melodramatics.” He shook his head. “I must say it gives me no pleasure to do this.” There was a glint in his eye that told Scott he was lying, but before he could begin to determine what this was, his wrists burned like a wildfire, shocks streaking down his arms and contracting the muscles involuntarily.

It lasted no time at all, but to Scott’s dismay he was panting, forcing his muscles to relax again.

That gleam was still there when the Hood gripped hold of his chin again, fingers pressing in to the delicate flesh under his jaw, and forced him to face him again. He didn’t remember looking away.

“I’m afraid I can’t accept no for an answer,” he said, voice still in the smooth businessman tones. “If you won’t tell me willingly, I have no choice but to resort to somewhat harsher methods. I will ask you again: tell me all about your Eye in the Sky.”

“Go to hell!” Scott spat, tensing up in anticipation of another shock. None came, and the Hood gave a grin that would have looked more at home on a tiger as he retracted his hand again.

“Now why would I want to do that?” He checked his watch, a flash of gold, and hummed. “I’m afraid I will have to bring our conversation to an end for the moment. My attention is required elsewhere.” Scott watched him stand, brushing invisible lint from his suit. “We shall resume later.”

The door was out of Scott’s line of sight, but he heard it lock and relaxed. Time to find-

Pain lanced through him, electricity dancing through his muscles and once again forcibly contracting them. He clenched his teeth through the pain, his back arching away from the table and his limbs coming up short against the clinking of chains. Unlike the first dose, it didn’t cease after a split second, instead wracking his body into spasms. He couldn’t breathe, it hurt, it burned, he couldn’t breathe.

Black spots danced in his vision and somewhere there was a keening sound, like a distant scream. He couldn’t breathe, his nerves were on fire, his body wouldn’t listen to him-

As suddenly as it had started, it stopped again, leaving him heaving for breath and blinking away the black spots. His back cautiously lowered to the probably-table he was chained to, and oh so slowly, he got his trembling limbs back under control. He had to escape; while he had every faith that John and Kayo would find him, he couldn’t just lay back and wait. Not with taser-infused chains that needed no clear provocation to activate.

Given their resistance to his pain-induced thrashing, it was unlikely that the chains would break easily, but with nothing else to go on, Scott forced his aching arm to extend until his hand to wrap around the chain linked to him and tugged. There was a rattle, but no give.

Clenching his teeth, Scott tried again. And again. And again.

There was the hiss of an opening door and he dropped the chain as though it burned. Hurried footsteps, unlike the calm and measured ones of the Hood, approached him until a person with a ridiculous mask over their head was stood next to him. He couldn’t see where they were looking exactly, but the helmet moved in a slow turn, giving off the appearance of taking in his entire restrained – and, oh, undressed – self, before settling on his face.

“Water,” a heavily disguised voice said, holding up a clear plastic bottle in front of his face. Scott opened his mouth to point out that he was hardly in a position to drink, but before he could say anything, the cap was popped off and the water upended over his mouth.

Unprepared, and in what was quite possibly the worst position, there was nothing Scott could do except splutter and choke as some of the miniature deluge found its way down his throat. There was no way to breathe, no way to escape – attempts to turn his head sideways, out of the path of the water were thwarted by a large hand gripping his chin with none of the Hood’s faux finesse and forcing his mouth open.

Then the water was gone, and he was coughing and choking in an effort to keep it out from his lungs. Water erupted onto his face, running off his cheeks like tears, and he turned his head to the side, vomiting up what he could. The masked person was gone by the time he got control of himself again, now uncomfortably aware of the rough cotton below him absorbing the moisture and turning damp.

The chains on his wrist flared up again, and he had a split second to panic about the water dripping off of him and into the material below him before his awareness sharply narrowed to agony, can’t breathe, muscles wound tighter than a spring and his vision alternating black and white as that background keening started again.

Him, he realised dimly when the pain came to an abrupt end, leaving him gasping and heaving.

“I trust you’ve had some time to reconsider.” The Hood’s silky tones draped over him as the man himself stepped back into view. How much time had passed? Scott didn’t think it had been that long, but he had no way to tell the time. Any attempts at keeping track mentally had been well and truly thrown off. “I would rather dispense with this uncouth method and discuss this civilly.”

Scott spat some leftover water at him as he carefully persuaded his muscles to unclench, one group at a time, and took some glee in the fact it landed on his face. Aside from the twitch of a brow, there was no response.

“We were discussing your Eye in the Sky?” the Hood prompted instead, just as he managed to release the tension from his left calf. Scott turned his head away and a sharp burst of electricity shot up from his left ankle, jerking his leg taut again and travelling up to his hips before fading away. “It’s polite to look at someone when they’re talking to you, Scott. I’m sure your father taught you that. Your mother certainly would have.”

Scott reluctantly rolled his head over to glare at him, once again trying to unwind his leg muscles.

“You don’t get to talk about my parents,” he rasped, throat unpleasantly raw. He tried not to think about that.

“I would prefer to address International Rescue,” the Hood reminded him. Scott shut his mouth and glowered at him. “Really, Scott? I was hoping to have a mature conversation with an adult; who knew the commander of International Rescue was such a child? I imagine you’ll be sticking your tongue out at me next?”

Scott refused to rise to the bait, and the Hood sighed.

“No matter,” he said. “We have time.” Scott inwardly scoffed. His family would arrive soon, even if he couldn’t get himself free any time soon. He only had to hold out until then.

He had military training. He could do that.

The Hood headed for the door again, calm and measured footsteps that stopped just out of his sight.

“Oh, and Scott? Everything you had on you was left by the mine.” Scott suddenly felt very cold. His tech, his trackers… “I do hope you weren’t expecting a rescue.” Without those, they couldn’t track him. The Hood’s ship had constantly evaded everything they had for eight years now – it had been a point of contention for John and Kayo alike.

The Hood made a noise that was clearly amused.

“You were? Oh, dear, Scott. It’s a good thing I told you – we wouldn’t want you clinging to some false hope, would we?” Scott barely listened to him, dread pooling in his gut.

He had to get out of there.

The door hissed shut, locking with a thud, and for the first time, he felt truly trapped.

Part IV

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #the hood #tremor

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virgyvandijk · 4 years

Note

For that au idea, idk if it meant any ideas or juat your own. But if its any could you do a liverpool x peakyblinders/mafia style one if you don't mind?

this got so long i’m sorry it’s going to have to go under a cut

virgil’s father is the kingpin of a drugs gang that near enough rules the netherlands. they control what goes in, what goes out, and ron built the empire up from scratch, dating back to long before virgil was born

he was a flaky dad when virgil was a kid, but when he turned twelve, he disappeared completely. just upped and left without a trace, leaving a whole trail of destruction in his wake. eventually he got back in contact and left his number

when virgil got old enough, he realised what his dad actually did. it disgusted him, to be honest. made him feel sick, because he knew what happened down the production lines of drug gangs. he knew about the violence that so many innocent people inevitably faced, and he couldn’t believe his dad was a part of that

people still recognised him though, when he was in the right bars or even just walking on the right streets. they knew who he was and who his father was, and they’d stop him. sometimes it’d be compliments, sometimes anecdotes, and sometimes threats. he hated all of them

when he turned 18, all those people on the streets started asking him when he was going to follow in his dad’s footsteps. then it turned into trying to convince him to join, and it began to feel constant

the day after his 19th birthday, he packed a bag, kissed his mother goodbye, and moved to the uk. he had a friend in liverpool who had somewhere for him to stay and the offer of a job, so he got on the next flight out and started fresh

he set up a life in liverpool – a good one. he had a decent job as the head of security for concerts in the city, and moved into his own little flat, right near the docks. nobody recognised him, and that was absolutely perfect, it was a proper New Start

he met jordan through a friend of a friend of a friend at a house party and they hit it off straight away. he’d never been so attracted to someone after only speaking for them for a few minutes, and he wasn’t even nervous when he asked jordan if he’d like to go for lunch the next day, because he knew jordan was going to say yes

their dates were more often than not, every other day for the first week and then every day after that. they got on so well, just spent hours talking and laughing and getting to know each other. virgil didn’t think he’d ever met someone quite like jordan

it wasn’t long until they decided to move in together. they were together most of the time anyway, spending time at virgil’s flat away from jordan’s housemates, so it just made sense. they both had decent jobs and put together a considerable amount for a deposit on a house, and they moved in not even a month later

things were good. virgil knew that he’d found his forever and he was happy about it, settled in his own little house with his own little family (jordan and two cats), in a country where nobody knew about his father and what he did for a living

except, of course, things aren’t always that easy.

gini is the only person he still talks to from back home, because he moved to liverpool shortly after virgil did – after virgil told him how happy he was in the city. they’re inseparable by now, and virgil considers him a brother

they go out for dinner every tuesday (jordan leaves them to it, has a night in with the cats and a pizza), somewhere different each week. gini chooses the restaurant, because he’s much more exciting than virgil is, but that’s fine by virgil. he doesn’t need to be exciting, he enjoys his life as it is thank you

one tuesday, virgil parks somewhere in town and walks to the restaurant that gini suggested. he’s never been there before so he’s using google maps, head buried in his phone, and he quite literally bumps into someone heading up paradise street. he looks up, and he swears he recognises the bloke, but he can’t quite place him

before he can ask, the man speaks. his accent is dutch – the same recognisable region as virgil, and he grins, but it’s more evil than kind. says, “i know you – your dad is ron van dijk. expanding his business, are you?”

virgil tries to walk away, but the man calls him back. he says he’s got some information about his brother, about what he’s been up to. virgil didn’t even fucking know, but the man has some documents on his phone and virgil can’t deny it. his grin grows wider, and virgil wishes he could forget his next words completely

it’s a choice, that’s the thing. it’s a choice and he makes it, but it’s a choice between his brother’s entire life being ruined for a stupid little mistake that he made when he was a kid, or virgil running a few slightly illegal errands for some shady man. it’s a choice, and it’s one he makes willingly. not only is his baby brother’s wellbeing at stake, but also his own. he doesn’t know what he’ll do if hendo finds out about how shady his family is

but it gets out of hand. at first it’s just a few drops of packages that virgil determinedly doesn’t look into, because he knows he won’t like what he finds. he can do that, can just pretend it’s something different, that this stranger doesn’t have all the information in his pocket to ruin so many lives. the packages eventually turn into bigger requests – into violence. virgil has never been a violent person. he might be big, and some people might find his stature imposing, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly

the violence is where he draws the line. he tells the stranger that he’s not going to do it anymore, that he’s done what he asked and he’s done it perfectly, so there’s absolutely no reason for him to carry on

in hindsight, he probably should’ve been a little suspicious about how calm and casual the stranger was when he said that, but he was just so relieved that he didn’t think twice

he forgets about it. well, as much as he can – it still plays on his mind but days pass and turn into weeks, so he doesn’t think about it. it’s over, as far as he’s concerned, and now he wants to make his boyfriend a nice meal and spend quality time with him and the cats

he picks a friday night, when neither of them have got to be up in the morning. buys a nice bottle of wine and cooks jordan’s favourite meal, because he always finishes earlier than jordan does

except jordan doesn’t come home when he’s supposed to. virgil doesn’t hear the familiar crunch of his tires over the gravel in the driveway, or his keyrings clinking against each other. he doesn’t hear the familiar inflection of jordan’s accent shouting virgil’s name or the incomprehensible muttering about virgil leaving his trainers in the middle of the hall

at first he thinks jordan is just caught up at work, but then an hour turns into three, turns into five and the worry is gnawing at his stomach, making him nauseous. it doesn’t help that jordan isn’t answering any of his calls, either – no matter how many times he dials that familiar number

on the twenty second time he calls, the ringing stops and there’s silence. jordan has finally fucking picked up, and virgil snaps at him, asks him where he’s been and why the fuck isn’t he home, but the voice that answers isn’t jordan. the accent is dutch. familiar. virgil’s heart sinks into his stomach and tears prick at his eyes, because he should have known he wasn’t getting out of it this easily

his chest feels tight, breaths struggling to go in, but the stranger just laughs. tells virgil that he got what he deserved for thinking he’s the one in control here. tells virgil that if he doesn’t do as he’s told, his little boyfriend will die, and it won’t be quick and painless

virgil agrees, says that he’ll do whatever he wants, whatever he needs – as long as he doesn’t hurt jordan. that’s the only thing that matters

the stranger gives him instructions and hangs up. he sounds so smug that it makes fury boil in virgil’s veins and before he even realises what he’s doing, he’s scrolling through his contacts until he finds his father’s number. he’s not even sure why he kept it, but right now he’s glad. the nausea sets in while he listens to it ring, and he bites his tongue when his dad answers

“i fucking hate you,” he spits, means every word of it. “i hate you. i hate what you’ve done to me. you’ve ruined my life, you’ve ruined everything, and i will never, ever forgive you.”

“okay,” his dad replies, completely unfazed. virgil somehow hates him even more. “is that all you called for?”

“i’m in liverpool. where does your gang operate?” virgil asks, voice hard. he knows his father will give him an answer, because that’s the least he deserves. “they’ve taken my fucking boyfriend, ron. they’ve taken him and i won’t let them hurt him, so tell me where they’ve set up around here.”

ron does the only decent thing he’s ever done in his life, and tells virgil. he doesn’t even say goodbye before he hangs up and then he’s dialling the number for jordan’s dad. he’s a police officer – virgil needs the back up. he’s rational enough to know that he’s too emotional for this, and he’ll never forgive himself if jordan ends up hurt, or worse, because of him

he stands back and watches as armed police surround the warehouse. it’s nothing out of the ordinary, really – there are hundreds of empty buildings around the docks, and this one is no different. virgil has walked past it dozens of times and he didn’t think twice about it

he’s not really thinking twice about it now, to be honest. he just wants his jordan back, in his arms and in one piece, and his heart is hammering against his ribcage when the armed officers burst through the doors. jordan’s dad stands next to him, an arm around his shoulders, and he’s really surprised that he’s not blaming virgil

it feels like hours, days, but it’s probably only minutes before that familiar stranger is being dragged out. he’s glaring, and if looks could kill then virgil would be six foot under already, but he makes a point of not looking at him. instead, he watches a few other men being dragged out, ones that virgil vaguely recognises from his dad bringing them around when he was a kid

eventually, jordan is being helped out by an officer, and virgil’s knees almost buckle with relief. he’s got a few cuts and bruises, blood streaked through his hair, but he’s okay. that’s the main thing – he’s okay

he heads straight to virgil, not even blinking at the sight of his dad standing there, and throws his arms around his neck, shuddering out a sigh when virgil tightens his arms around jordan’s waist. it’s only been half a day since he’s had jordan’s skin under his hands but it felt like years, and he buries himself into the older man’s warmth, into his scent

“i’m okay,” jordan whispers, thumb stroking along virgil’s hairline at his temple. virgil still isn’t quite convinced though, and he guides jordan towards the ambulance that’s waiting and makes sure he gets checked over properly

he is okay, to which jordan mutters, i told you so, but still, virgil would rather be safe than sorry. he takes jordan home and then helps him up the stairs and into the shower, hesitating when jordan tells him that he’s okay, that he can manage to wash himself. still, he knows that jordan probably needs some space after what just happened to him, so he heads downstairs and lowers himself into an armchair

what just happened – fucking hell. jordan nearly died, and it was virgil’s fault. dragged him into this and didn’t even give him any warning. he had no idea who virgil’s dad was or what he did. he probably feels like he doesn’t even know who virgil is anymore, if anything he told him was true

he’s probably going to leave.

jordan is taking his time in the shower, and virgil manages to convince himself that he’s in their bedroom, packing a bag and trying to figure out how to tell virgil that he’ll come back for the rest of his stuff later. nothing would surprise him after the fucking mess he’s made of everything

when jordan comes back down, he’s dressed in a comfy pair of joggers and one of virgil’s hoodies, fingers tangled in the baggy sleeves of it as he pads across the living room. he says something, but virgil doesn’t even hear it, let alone reply

“virgil?” jordan asks, close enough that virgil has to snap out of his thoughts. he doesn’t look up from the floor, can’t bring himself to make eye contact, because he doesn’t deserve that. “i said, do you want a cup of tea?”

“if you’re going to leave me, can you just – not drag it out?” virgil says quickly, the words choked as they leave his mouth. the thought of it makes his heart beat twice as fast, tongue too big for his mouth, and he quickly wipes the tears away that have spilled over his cheeks.

jordan drops to his knees just as quickly, both hands coming up to frame virgil’s face. he lifts his head, makes him look at him, and whispers, “i’m not going anywhere, virgil.”

virgil blinks. he’s so confused. “even after all the lies? all the pain i’ve put you through? you could have died, jordan. it would have been my fault,” he says.

“no,” jordan says, shaking his head. his thumb traces along virgil’s bottom lip carefully. “i love you, and that means i love all of you. even the parts that have a shitty excuse of a man for a father. even the parts that you haven’t told me about. i love you, and that means i’m all in.”

virgil can’t help it. he bursts into tears, sobs wracking through his entire body. he’s never felt unconditional love like this before, because even his mother was half terrified he’d turn out like his father, but jordan doesn’t see any of that. jordan sees virgil, and nobody else

jordan slides his arms around virgil’s shoulders and pulls him in close, for a tight hug. he lets him cry it out for as long as he needs, shushing him gently, and doesn’t say a word when virgil falls silent

that’s unconditional love. it means more to virgil than he could ever describe.

send me an au and i’ll give you headcanons

#anon #asks #vh #lucy writes

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lucastheunlucky · 4 years

Text

Run; Miles & Luke - Part 2

In Continuation to Part 1

Set up:

Miles had got Lucas off to sleep in the spare room, making sure all the doors and windows were locked and alarmed. Not so much to keep Luke in (although he was half-worried the poor guy might freak out and run away again) but to keep anyone who might be watching them out. One benefit of having a German Shepherd was that they were always on alert, so even if Miles didn’t catch whoever might be there, Duke would.

He hardly slept, almost too frantic to drift off. He did eventually though, drifting in and out of wakefulness a few times, barely on the edge of dreaming before he finally gave up and got up to make breakfast. He looked in on Luke a few times just to make sure he was still there. Poor kid must’ve been exhausted. By the time he finally heard the door to the spare room open, it was midday. “Morning.” Miles looked at him, still almost unable to believe he was real. “How’d you sleep?”

Luke had woken and for a moment didn't realize where he was, the bed unfamiliar, and the wall he was facing not filled with the usual sunshine. When he saw Miles in his kitchen and himself standing only a few feet from him, every single cell in his body screamed to fucking run. Bolt as fast as he could, even barefoot, and with Duke staring at him. The familiarness of the question was so strange, and when was the last time he even had someone say that to him? He rubbed his heart as stress spread under the surface.

"Morning? Is it? I haven't slept that hard in a long time," he admitted, walking forward, with a gentle pat on Duke's head in passing, before he sat down in a chair and laid his head down on the table with folded arms. "Did you sleep? You look like you've been spinning things in your head for hours."

“Sort of not,” Miles answered. “It’s a little after twelve.” His brother was there. His brother… was right there. It was impossible not to repeat that over and over in his head for however long it took him to believe it. “I was in and out. I’m kind of fighting the feeling like I’m gonna wake up any minute now and you’ll be gone.” He looked at Luke with sincerity. “I missed you, bro. We all did. We thought you were--” He was going to say ‘dead’ but he couldn’t get the word out. “You know.”

"Dead--" Luke said the word easily and sighed lightly, really not wanting to draw from that pool of memories already. It was so easy to shove it all away, just let it be this forgetful spot in his mind, but it never was. Continuously, he's reminded in the mirror or shower with scars, not ones he's earned but given. "Alright--" he said with faint determination and tugged his shirt collar to pull it over his head. He quickly palmed his face to hopefully not show how much stress this was on him. "I need to say this quickly because it fucks with me. So-- they gunned me down-- shot me twice here first." Showing the starburst scars in his chest and lower rib cage that didn't get seen nearly as much. "Stupid bullets got stuck in there but didn't take me down. Missed my heart, not surprising since it was from a damn car and it was moving. Ah, but then, I look over and bam--"

His breath shakes, and his eyes glance up, holding his fingers to his head. "Just like that, man, maybe four seconds. Four seconds and I was fucking gone."

Miles hated that word coming from Lucas’ lips, but he nodded sternly. He was mad, not at Luke, but this whole damn situation. Their entire family had been grieving and who knew what Luke had gone through? When he said the word torture, had he meant it literally? Miles could immediately tell he was different. He was darker, more haunted. It was as if Lucas had been living under a black cloud. He clenched his jaw as Luke went through his scars. His stomach was turning itself inside out. “Jesus. Sick bastards.” He was going to make some coffee, but maybe tea was a better idea to calm Luke down, or to calm himself down. “Do you know anything about them?”

Luke knew Miles would be mad, and he actually expected to get yelled at because it was his fault for bringing him this pain. A small, broken part of him wanted Miles to just go off on him, hit him, or tell Luke he deserved it. If he had just not wandered off when he was a teen or if he had just gone to that school in Texas as his dad wanted, none of this would have happened. He closed his eyes, pulled his shirt on, and started pacing. He didn't know how to explain this without sounding crazy, and little whispers were filling his mind now that he's scratched that memory. "Miles, they put me in the ground. They thought I was dead, but I woke up there. That guy-- " his voice wavered, and he worried his lip. "He said he saved me--" A beaten, faintly insane laugh spilled out, "can you believe that brother? Saved me. That's what I know about him. He hurts me, kills me, and makes sure I come back. Heh-- heh -- so we can do it again. How do I fight that?" He finished, sounding resigned.

“They fucking what?!” The idea of his baby brother having to dig his way out of a shallow grave… Miles wanted to throw up. This sounded like some serious fucking gaslighting. If it’d been pure hate, some hapless hunter just trying to kill wolves because they were wolves, that would be one thing, but this guy was sadistic. “He didn’t save you. You saved you, okay? You’re the best, strongest person I know. I’ve missed you like hell.” He handed Luke a cup of tea, leading him to the couch so they could sit. “What does he look like? Does he have an accent? Any distinguishing features?”

Lucas accepted the warm drink and walked with Miles over to the couch. Sipping it carefully, it was honestly delicious and soothing. 'Thanks," What did he look like? Lucas' head pounded. Various memories showed the silhouette of the man but never his entire face. There were so many blurry edges like his mind refused to put it together. Remembering seemed to come with bringing up something awful in him. "He always hides his face," he managed, "but he has a beard, scruffy with a mustache, gray and white hair. His teeth are so white and straight." He sets the cup down, afraid he might break it as he squirms and pulls his legs up and tries to remember. "Speaks like he's always talking through a smile until he's mad." The edges of his sight darken at that thought, and he feels himself drifting, his breathing slows and his gaze lands in the distance space across the room. "He talks southern-- wears a cowboy hat, usually white, taller than us."

Miles just sat down. Duke walked in circles for a bit and then lay down near Luke’s feet. “Guess he missed you,” Miles chuckled softly. Duke was trained in Search and Rescue so part of that required sometimes laying down near victims who were in distress or needed warmth. But Miles preferred to think of it as the former. “That’s good. Those are good details.” He put an arm around Luke’s shoulder. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do, but we’re gonna do it together this time, okay? You're not alone any more. I promise.”

"Okay, Miles," Lucas let that promise settle into him properly and believed it. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. He called me yesterday before I ran here. He gave mom my number, I lied to her on the phone when she called me. She cried--" he swallowed thickly, resting his head on Miles' reassuring arm. "I felt terrible. He knew Regan's name and a few others who helped me. I just don't know who I'm going to bring trouble too. The looming threat is hard to manage, I don't know what he will act on. I’ve been trying to pull things that relate to him, try to make sense of it all. But I’m not good at remembering anymore. Do you think we could set a trap?"

“The bastard got in touch with mom?” Now Miles really was angry. He had planned to contact the rest of the family to talk about Lucas once the nameless Hunter was out of the picture, but the fact this sicko was toying with her grief made him want to scream. “Lucas, this guy is going to hurt people no matter what you do. For some reason, he’s just the kind of person who enjoys hurting others. And they say we’re the monsters.” He shook his head. No amount of tea could calm him down, but he continued to drink it just so he had something to do with his hands. “I wanna find out what he wants. I have a lead on another hunter in town. I’ll see if he knows a guy who fits that description.”

Lucas watched with a hazy expression at the anger darting over his brother's face. There was a part of him that still wished Miles would just yell at him, hoping it would help him process it better, but he also wasn't sure he could handle seeing his big brother in such a state either. Miles was always his rock; this person he could fall into without any guilt and a calm atmosphere. Luke finally releasing all these secrets, all this burden he's carried since he crawled out of that shallow grave was worrisome for him. He didn't want it all to go and ruin his brother as it did him. Lucas wasn't that happy, partying, laughing boy anymore, please don’t change from this. "I know he is--" he said about the hunter. Knowing this man killed humans just as easily, he just didn’t have proof. "Okay-- I actually have someone checking my, well-- gravesite for me," Luke said with a shiver, "I wasn't alone in there. Maybe you will see the picture better than me once we get everything. Regan is looking over an old case file too. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize I needed help. But, I’m feeling more hopeful than I have."

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Miles said, firm but soft. He set his mug down, wrapping his arms around Luke’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He just held him there for a few moments, not wanting to let him go. There were days - many of them - when he never thought he’d have Lucas in his arms again. It was only a couple of seconds, but it felt like forever before Miles finally let go. “Now, since your sleepy ass missed breakfast, how ‘bout lunch?”

Lucas really couldn't remember Miles having this big of wind span and would have to find out how in the world did he get so big. The hug was welcome, and Lucas would probably find a way to get more in the coming days. Miles will likely have to keep telling Luke not to apologize and not to blame himself for years after this mess. Luke had hope. It felt good to have it back, even just a little bit. It didn't change Lucas was still terrified and had no idea what was going to happen when that surprise got to him. He wasn't sure he could handle watching Miles kill them, and he wasn't sure how he would react, even hearing his voice again. But, he had a few people keeping an eye on him now, and Luke felt unworthy in that broken way. He was also accepting it slowly. Hopefully, time could break those isolating habits he's created for himself. Maybe one day, in the future, he'd smile like he used too.

"Heyyyy- I was tired," he pouted when Miles let go and hugged Duke instead. Both were looking at Miles with the same puppy eyes. "Duke, you want some of my famous cooking. Miles has no idea what he's in for. Think we can make him cry over food? Come on--"

#x: miles #x: run

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