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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part sixty-eight: "The Sleepover"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your sister asks a last minute favor for you to watch your nephew overnight.

Or Hudson, you, and a special guest make brownies.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.4k

a/n: Getting some more of these transferred over from AO3 and I'm almost caught up! This is a fluffy installment where Reader and her nephew make brownies with...someone special. The entire list of installments for this series can be found here. I'll start a tag list once I've caught up to AO3 so if you're interested let me know in a comment (I know I've already gotten asked about it so I'm slowly adding names)!

Swinging your apartment door open, Amber greeted you with a look of relief and gratitude. Beside her stood Hudson, his dinosaur backpack slung over his navy blue winter coat. He was beaming up at you and you couldn’t fight the large smile making its way onto your own face.

“Thank you so unbelievably much,” Amber gushed instantly. “And I am incredibly sorry to bother you so last minute like this, really. I owe you big time.”

You shrugged a shoulder in response. “It’s really not a big deal,” you assured your sister. “I love spending time with my favorite nephew and it’s been awhile since we’ve had a sleepover. Hasn’t it, Huds?” you asked, attention focusing down to your nephew.

“Right!” he agreed quickly. “Is Uncle Matt going to be here?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so, Huds,” you answered him awkwardly.

You figured Matt would realize you weren’t alone in your apartment tonight when he stopped by, probably hearing Hudson before heading home where he would inevitably find the message you’d left on his normal not vigilante phone about Amber needing you to watch Hudson last minute overnight. You knew he’d entirely understand that you’d be unavailable this evening.

“How’re things going with him after the breakup?” Amber asked, catching your attention. “Still doing good?”

You nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah. Things are great between us,” you told her with a smile.

“Mmm,” she hummed out, eyes narrowing. “I’ll punch him in that handsome face if he hurts you again, though.”

“Amber, it was a…misunderstanding of sorts that got vastly blown out of proportion,” you told her, aware of how much of an oversimplification that was, “and we’re good.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “I haven’t forgotten all those nights you were crying on my couch downing an entire bottle of wine on your own. I just don’t want to see you like that again.”

“Point taken,” you told her. “Now don’t you have to be at the office?”

Amber expelled a deep sigh before she nodded. “Yeah, I should probably get back before Hogarth gets pissed. Leave it to her billionaire golden boy to somehow need help late on a Friday night.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be telling me that,” you pointed out.

“Right,” she agreed, pulling a face. “Forget I said that.”

She turned, lowering down to Hudson’s height as she held her arms out. Hudson threw his arms around her, immediately hugging his mom tightly.

“You be good for your aunt,” Amber told him. “She’s doing mommy a big favor tonight so let’s not be a troublemaker, okay?”

“Okay,” Hudson answered.

“I’ll see you in the morning, buddy,” she said, kissing his head. “I love you. And be good , please.”

“Love you, too, momma!” Hudson replied.

Amber rose to her feet as Hudson bolted straight towards you, wrapping your left leg in an excited hug that almost knocked you off your feet. Amber shot him a sad smile before her attention shifted back to you.

“Thank you, really,” she repeated. “Just…make sure he gets to sleep and eats breakfast and I’ll be happy. I already know you’re the fun one and he’s going to do some things he usually doesn’t get to at home.”

“It’s because I’m not his mom,” you reminded her. “I don’t do the disciplining part. I do the fun activities part.”

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hudson," your sister said, shooting him a quick wave.

Amber mouthed one last 'thank you' before turning and heading down your hall towards the elevator. You closed the door and turned, spotting Hudson slipping his dinosaur backpack off onto your couch.

“You want help with your coat and shoes, Huds?” you asked, making your way over to him.

He nodded enthusiastically, patiently waiting for you to help him out of everything. Afterwards, you headed back to your door, hanging his coat and putting his shoes by yours. Turning around, you sent Hudson a large grin that he quickly mirrored.

“Your mom said you already had dinner,” you began, Hudson nodding in response. “So would you like to help me make some brownies?”

His eyes widened, lighting up excitedly as he bounced from foot to foot. “Yes! Can we make them now? Please?” he begged.

“Absolutely,” you told him. “You want to help me get the stool out of my closet so you can wash your hands first?”

Hudson didn’t answer, instead he booked it out of your living room and down the hall, heading straight to your bedroom closet. You laughed, shaking your head as you followed after him. When you entered your room, you saw him already struggling to pull the stool out of the closet with his little arms. Before you could offer help, he was already hoisting it up and shooting you a proud smile. You waved him out of your room with a smile of your own, watching as he carried the stool down your hallway. You followed slowly behind, amused at how cute he looked holding onto something half his size.

“Alright," you began, "first we’re going to wash up and–”

“ Daredevil !” Hudson shrieked, dropping the stool to the floor of your living room and cutting you clean off.

Eyes widening in horror, you turned to your left. Sure enough Matt was crouched at your window dressed as Daredevil. His mouth was hanging wide open, his fist still raised from where he must have been knocking against it. Hudson sprinted towards the window, immediately struggling to open it.

“Hudson we probably shouldn’t be opening the window to strangers, don’t think your mom would approve of that,” you said, your eyes on Matt.

“He’s not a stranger, he’s a superhero!” Hudson called over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew him, auntie!”

“What the hell, Matt,” you awkwardly sing-songed under your breath knowing he could hear you.

Out on your fire escape, Matt’s mouth tugged into a sheepish grin as his hand fell back to his side. With a sigh you made your way over to the window and lifted it up.

“I don’t exactly know him,” you corrected Hudson, pulling him away so Matt could climb in. “He uh, just was helping me with something for work.” Your focus shifted back to Matt as he closed the window behind himself. “And he shouldn’t have stopped by while I was watching my nephew,” you said through a forced smile.

Matt huffed out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. “I wasn’t quite paying attention,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

“That’s okay!” Hudson said excitedly. “You’re my favorite superhero! I’m going to tell momma I met you!”

“No!” you and Matt both shouted simultaneously.

The smile fell off of Hudson’s face as he looked up at you curiously. You licked your lips nervously, eyes briefly darting over to Matt. He was wringing his gloved hands, clearly nervous. Okay, so it was on you to come up with a fast lie. Great.

“You can’t tell your mom you met him,” you said slowly, kneeling down in front of him, “because uh…he’s helping me with something super secret for work, okay? It involves some…really bad guys and it wouldn’t be safe for me or Daredevil if they knew he was helping me. So can you keep this a secret?”

“Hmmm,” Hudson hummed out, his focus shifting back towards Matt, a slow smile forming on his mouth. “Okay,” he said with a nod. “Can he make brownies with us?”

You sat there kneeling on the floor, blinking rapidly a few times. “You…want Daredevil to stay and make brownies with us?” you asked him slowly.

“Yeah,” he answered, a little pout on his face. “I might not see him again.” Quickly Hudson’s hands flew out and grabbed onto your shoulders, taking you by surprise. “Please, auntie? Can he stay, please? Please?”

Your mouth fell open, eyes widening as you continued to kneel there on the floor entirely dumbstruck. “I, uh, well, Huds, uhm–”

“I can stay and make brownies,” Matt answered.

He had intentionally pitched his voice lower and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a laugh. He sounded absolutely ridiculous talking about making brownies in the same gruff voice he used to threaten breaking bones with criminals.

“But if I do,” Matt added, “I need you to keep my secret. Can you do that?”

“Okay!” Hudson said, releasing his hold on your shoulders and bouncing up and down.

Slowly your head turned towards Matt, a hand flying up to try to cover your laugh. “You’re uh, you’re going to stay and make brownies then, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” you teased. “With a three year old?”

Matt shrugged a shoulder, a grin slipping onto his face. “I do serve the people of Hell’s Kitchen when they need help,” Matt answered. He gestured a gloved hand at Hudson. “And this young man is clearly in need of some brownies.”

You bit down hard on your lip, eyes closing as you refrained from letting out a snort of amusement. “Hudson,” you began, fighting to keep your voice even, “I’m going to put on some cartoons, okay?” You opened your eyes, glancing over at your nephew. “Can you sit and watch them for me while I go over some uh, work things with Ma–uh Mr. Daredevil?”

“And then he’ll make brownies with us?” Hudson asked, wide eyes staring hopefully up at you.

You cleared your throat, nodding slowly as you rose back to your feet. “Yeah, I suppose he will,” you sighed.

Hudson grinned, running over to the couch and hopping up onto it. You turned, shooting Matt a pointed look.

“You go wait in my room,” you ordered him in a hushed tone.

Matt’s mouth curled into a smirk as he nodded at you. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes as you made your way into the living room. Taking a minute, you turned on the television to some cartoons and begged Hudson to give you a few minutes to talk to Daredevil. When he was clearly enraptured with some cartoon dogs, you headed back towards your bedroom where Matt was leaning against your dresser.

“What the hell, Matt?” you whispered. “My nephew is here!”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I sort of gathered that by this point.”

“Well didn’t you pick up on him here in my apartment with your Fancy Devil senses before you came knocking on my living room window?” you asked.

“Clearly not,” he answered. “I was admittedly a little tired from today. I wasn’t paying that close of attention. I’m sorry.”

You sighed, running a hand over your forehead. “It’s fine, I just hope he really does keep this a secret. I mean he is only three.”

“There’s not much to do about it now,” Matt said. “Hopefully his love of Daredevil will have him wanting to keep the secret for now.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you agreed. “Because I don’t really think you’re planning to tell my sister anytime soon about your extracurricular activities.”

“Not really,” he agreed. Pushing off of the dresser, he made his way towards you. “Come here, sweetheart.”

“Well I should–”

“He’s entranced by whatever cartoon is on, I promise,” Matt assured you.

You nodded, crossing the distance between the two of you. Matt’s gloved hand reached out, tenderly gripping your chin and lifting your face towards his. You couldn’t fight back the smile growing on your lips despite the situation.

“Hi,” you whispered.

He huffed out a laugh, a grin forming on his own mouth. “Hi, sweetheart,” he responded just as quietly.

Leaning towards you, Matt connected his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Your hands rose to his chest, bracing yourself against him. Soon you were pulling away, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face against his chest. Matt’s own arms encircled you, his face burrowing against you in return.

“Missed you today,” Matt murmured into your shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” you whispered.

With a sigh you reluctantly stepped back, knowing you couldn’t leave Hudson out in the living room much longer. Matt released you as well, his head shifting to the side as he focused on you through the red lenses of his mask.

“So are you really going to help me and Hudson make a boxed brownie mix dressed in the full ensemble?” you asked him, waving a hand at his suit.

Matt grinned in response. “Only if you call me Mr. Daredevil again,” he teased.

You playfully swatted his chest, the gesture causing Matt to laugh. "I'm serious, because you're going to have to keep up the charade that you're not Uncle Matt," you told him.

"You know, I quite missed him calling me that," Matt said, head canting to the side.

" Matt ," you chided.

He grinned again at you, clearly enjoying pushing your buttons.

"If you get me a glass of water so I can keep up the voice I'll do my best, but–" Matt said, raising a finger and tapping you gently on the nose, your eyes narrowing in response, "–you're going to have to keep your hands to yourself."

"Keep it up and Mr. Daredevil is going to have a new foe to fight tonight," you quipped back.

Matt made a noise in his throat that sounded almost like a pleased purr. "Now that sounds fun," he whispered.

"There's a three year old on my couch right now, Matt," you reminded him. "And I'm going to head back out there and get started on the brownies now. Behave yourself, Devil."

He smirked, nodding as you turned to leave. But you stopped in the threshold when he spoke again.

"Yes, ma'am."

You shifted your head over your shoulder, shooting Matt a stern look. "You stop that, Matthew."

He chuckled as he made his way out of your bedroom, pausing when he neared you. He leaned down, his left hand resting on your lower back as he whispered into your ear, "Why would I stop when it's clear how much you like it?"

Your jaw dropped, your eyes following him as he made his way back down your hallway to the living room. He glanced over his shoulder at you, shooting you a cocky smile as he walked away.

“Ass,” you muttered, heat rising to your cheeks.

Heading over towards Hudson who was still enthralled with the cartoons, you passed Matt and heard a deep chuckle come from him as you did. Choosing to ignore it, you focused on Hudson.

“Ready to make those brownies?” you asked him.

Hudson scooted off the edge of the couch, nodding his head excitedly. His focus shifted on Matt still dressed fully as Daredevil beside you. Somehow his smile widened even further.

“Alright, bring the stool over to the sink and wash your hands first,” you told him. As Hudson darted off to pick up the stool, you shot Matt a look. “You too, Devil. Take the gloves off and wash your hands. I don’t want…whatever might be on them in the brownies.”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, your eyes following the movement as the soft flesh slickened with his saliva. His mouth pulled up into a devilish grin that had your hand momentarily pausing in its reach for the television remote.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered back.

Your teeth grit together as your hand wrapped tightly around the remote, eyes narrowing back at Matt. He wasn’t wrong. That was certainly starting to do something to you, but now was really not the time nor the place for Matt to be teasing you like this. Especially because he couldn’t stay the night with Hudson over.

“Matt,” you whispered his name in warning.

That grin was still on his face as he raised his hands, slowly undoing his gloves. “What?” he asked innocently. “I’m just trying to be respectful.”

“Keep it up,” you playfully threatened him.

His head tilted to the side as he watched you in amusement, his hands still undoing his gloves. Behind him in the kitchen you heard the sink turn on and you spotted Hudson washing his hands.

“Keep it up and what?” Matt pressed.

Your eyes slid back towards Matt. Setting your jaw firm and feeling emboldened by his flirting, you walked over to him and gently placed a hand along his abdomen as you leaned in and whispered, “Keep it up and you’ll end up in your shower tonight wishing you’d behaved, Devil,” you whispered.

Your hand gradually slipped downwards until your fingertips were almost touching him through his suit. Something like a grunt fell out of Matt, his nostrils flaring. That devilish grin on his mouth faded as his lips pulled into a tight line. Your hand returned to your side as you made your way towards the kitchen feeling pleased with yourself. You certainly missed having an effect on him.

“Wash your hands, Devil,” you called back over your shoulder.

Entering the kitchen, you helped Hudson finish washing his own hands before you washed yours. You noticed it had taken Matt a moment to recover before he’d made his way back into the kitchen, pausing beside you at the sink. You couldn’t fight the triumphant smirk on your mouth as you moved out of his way, letting him wash his hands next as you reached up into a cabinet nearby, grabbing him a glass for water. You waited for him to finish washing his hands before you filled it up and handed it to him. Meanwhile, Hudson had been excitedly moving the stool over towards your open counter space and curiously examining the boxed brownie mix you had out.

"Okay, so we need a bowl," you said, walking around your kitchen and bending down to a lower cabinet to pull out a large bowl. With it in hand, you walked back to the counter Hudson and Matt were both now standing at, Hudson on his stool. "You think you can handle pouring the dry brownie mix into the bowl with Hudson, Devil?"

"You really think I can't handle that?" he asked back.

Turning, you made your way over to the oven. "What do you think, Huds?" you asked over your shoulder as you began to preheat the oven. "You think Daredevil knows how to bake?"

"Yeah!" Hudson shouted.

Finishing setting the temperature on the oven, you turned back around and immediately paused, your eyes taking in the sight before you. Matt was letting Hudson tear the box open, a large smile spread across his face. Hudson was giggling hysterically as he brutalized the box with his little hands before Matt pulled out the bag from inside that held the dry ingredients. You couldn’t hold back the smile on your face as you watched him help Hudson open the bag next. It was strange but also incredibly beautiful watching your nephew bake brownies with his hero, and simultaneously watching Matt as Daredevil using the same hands he punished criminals with helping Hudson carefully pour the dry brownie mixture into a bowl.

It was in that moment, watching Matt with Hudson as you continued to openly stare by the oven, that the full realization hit you. You wanted Matt. You wanted to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him, but you also realized something else. You wanted a family. And you wanted it with him . You felt your eyes suddenly prick with tears as a strong wave of emotion hit you at the thought of Matt smiling and talking to your pregnant belly, those big hands cradling your baby bump. Or those same hands gently burping a baby over his shoulder as he rocked them back and forth. That deep rumble of his gently shushing a crying baby as he held them safe in those big protective, strong arms of his.

Matt's head abruptly spun in your direction, the smile on his face briefly dulling to something that seemed curious and questioning. No doubt confused about the conflicting emotions your body must have been displaying to him. You blinked hard a few times, trying to fight back the tears that hadn't fallen yet.

"We need eggs!" Hudson shouted.

You cleared your throat, nodding your head as you made your way to the fridge. "Yes, you're right," you said, trying to keep your voice even. "How many Hudson?"

"Two!" he proudly answered.

"Two eggs it is," you said.

Trying to gain control over your emotions, you opened the fridge door. As you were opening the egg carton and grabbing the eggs, you couldn't help but listen in to the conversation behind you.

"You remind me of Uncle Matt," Hudson was saying.

"Oh?" Matt asked, his tone cautious.

"Yeah. I want to bake brownies with him, too," Hudson said.

Turning around with the eggs in your hands, you saw the bright smile sliding across Matt's face under his mask. The sight only further melted you.

"I'm sure he'd love to if you asked him," Matt replied.

"He likes dinosaurs," Hudson continued on. "He said his favorite is a brontosaurus."

"Did he?" Matt asked.

Walking back to the pair or them, you set one of the eggs beside the bowl. “You want to help me crack these, Huds?” you asked.

Hudson reached out, grabbing onto the back of your hand as you cracked the egg on the edge of the bowl. He helped you pour the egg inside before letting go of your hand as you reached over, tossing the shell in the garbage before picking up the other. Once again his little hand was holding onto the back of yours as he helped you crack the egg.

“Do you like dinosaurs?” Hudson asked Daredevil.

“I do,” he replied in his gruff tone.

You bit your lip hard, fighting down the laugh. You were certain Matt’s throat would be aching after tonight from continually talking like that. Though as you made your way back to the sink to wash your hands, you could feel a happy warmth blossoming in your chest as Matt continued to chat with Hudson about dinosaurs in the full Daredevil suit. He had to be sweating under that thing.

Walking back over to the counter as the two continued chatting, you picked up the box. You couldn’t resist the snort of amusement that escaped you at how decimated the top of the box was. Matt’s head shifted in your direction at the sound and you caught the little smile he flashed at you in response. His attention quickly returned to Hudson as you noticed you still needed the vegetable oil.

You made your way over to a drawer, pulling out the right measuring spoon. Afterwards, you made your way over to a cabinet just beside Matt and opened it. Carefully you reached up to pull out the vegetable oil, but your hand bumped the container of olive oil and it went tumbling off of the shelf. Before you could blink, Matt’s hand darted out beside you, catching the bottle of olive oil seconds later. You stood there with your mouth hanging open for a moment. On the other side of Matt, Hudson’s eyes grew wide.

“ Cool !” he squealed.

Recovering, you accepted the bottle from Matt, muttering a ‘thank you’ as you did before you placed it back in the cabinet. With the vegetable oil in hand, you made your way back to the bowl that Hudson had been helping Matt mix.

“Can Daredevil stay and have brownies?” Hudson asked.

“Uh, Huds, you know it takes about a half an hour for these to bake,” you told him, carefully measuring out the vegetable oil.

“Please?” Hudson begged.

With a sigh, you poured the vegetable oil into the bowl before glancing at Matt beside you. He was looking at you through the red lenses of the mask, his lips quirked up on one corner as his head tilted curiously to the side.

“Maybe you should ask Daredevil,” you suggested. “He is usually busy.”

Hudson’s big, pleading eyes turned to Matt beside you. He was fortunate he couldn’t see the look on the three year old’s face because it was a look you often couldn’t say no to.

“Please stay for brownies?” he asked, his lip pushing out in a pout.

“After all our hard work?” Matt asked. “How could I not stay to eat them?”

Hudson began bouncing excitedly on the stool, expelling a loud, pleased squeal. Matt let out a laugh in response as he continued to mix the batter.

“Well Mr. Daredevil ,” you said, heading to a cabinet and pulling out a pan to bake the brownies in, “I’m assuming you haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you?”

Matt’s attention turned towards you, a little grin forming on his mouth. “I can’t say that I have, ma’am ,” he answered.

You pursed your lips, shooting him a pointed look you knew he could feel. “While these are baking, would you like some leftover pesto pasta?” you asked, grabbing the can of cooking spray from your counter to spray the pan with. “Because I can’t have you setting a poor example for Huds and eating dessert for dinner.”

“Well now, we certainly can’t have that,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

“Someone’s got to make sure the neighborhood vigilante stays fed,” you joked, spraying the pan with cooking spray. “I’ll heat some up once I get these in the oven.”

As the oven beeped behind you, letting you know it had reached temperature, your eyes lingered on Matt and Hudson. Matt’s large, ungloved hands were holding the bowl as Hudson was trying to stir the sticky mixture, once again babbling on about dinosaurs as Matt listened with an enraptured interest.

Somehow watching Matt interacting so well with your nephew tonight, despite being dressed in his Daredevil suit, was also doing something to you. Whether it was that 'baby fever' women often joked about finally kicking in or something else, you weren’t sure. But what you were sure of was that the next moment you had Matt alone after this, you were certainly going to repay him for his kindness to your nephew. And you found yourself suddenly really, really looking forward to that.

Matt’s attention snapped towards you instantly, his head canting curiously to the side as Hudson beside him continued on with his chattering as he stirred the brownie batter. You were sure Matt had just picked up on the hint of your arousal. You only smiled slowly before shooting him a wink yourself, the gesture drawing a slow smirk onto his lips in return.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #fftd #matt murdock fluff

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

Note

Yay! Congrats on 100! Thanks for keeping us well fed with great fics 🥰

I’m usually an angst person but ya know what? It’s a warm spring day and I’m feeling fluffy. Can I get a writers choice fluff prompt with Jake please?

Hi Ellie! Thanks for this request! Since you left it to my choice, I selected the prompt, "I hope that in every life, you are there with me.". I had a great time writing this one and I hope you like it!

His Girl, Friday (And Just Maybe, Yours Too)

It's stupidly early in the morning, unsurprising when one works for the US Navy. You're Admiral Mitchell's new assistant, and while you're slowly figuring out Admiral Mitchell himself, there is definitely one thing you're less than fond of. What is that, you ask? Well, if the Admiral and his squadron are due on base and in one of the classrooms at 7 AM, you're expected to be there with Admiral Mitchell's coffee in hand by 6:45 at the latest. And you're not an early riser. Not in the slightest. 6:45 used to be your early alarm before you started working for the Navy. Now, if your alarm goes off at 6:45, you'll likely get a demerit.

Not that you think Admiral Mitchell will actually dole out a demerit to you, of course. The man is allergic to authority and all of its trappings. And the paperwork? You're pretty sure he'll break out in hives if he ever has to plant his John Hancock on anything more complex than flight plans for his squadron. So you can pretty much thank your lucky stars that the man will never get around to filing the paperwork out if you're late. And there is also the fact that you're the keeper of his coffee most days. He doesn't usually try to get on your bad side when his coffee is on the line.

What's that thing they say about great power needing great responsibility? That's your entire life at the moment, honestly. You're the last line of defense between the continued operations of Naval Air Station North Island and one maniac and his merry squadron of pilots. You have weekly meetings with Admiral Simpson and his secretary Dora about what Maverick and his Daggers get up to. It's a bad week when you must also explain their shenanigans to the Secretary of Defense. The only highlight of those weeks is the glass of top-shelf scotch that Admiral Simpson pours you a finger of before you leave.

You can't say you hate waking up in the morning, though, when you never actually went to sleep the night before. It's the time of year all administrative assistants in the Navy hate, evaluations during night flying exercises. It's been you, Admiral Mitchell, the largest coffee carafe you've ever seen, and twelve under-caffeinated grouchy aviators all night. You're exhausted, and all you've been doing is lugging Admiral Mitchell's paperwork around all night. You can't imagine what it's like flying all night.

"Hey, Friday?" After so long sitting in silence, Admiral Mitchell's voice startles you out of your mind.

"Yes, sir? And Friday?" Your voice is tired but polite as you look at him.

"Can you grab cups of coffee for the kids? They've all been through it. And we have one final debrief before they and you are free to go. We can finish the paperwork in forty-eight hours. And I'm going to call you Friday from now on, cause you're my girl Friday. Dependable and loyal to a fault. Don't pretend I'm unaware of you smoothing things with Cyclone, Warlock, and the SecDef as needed." You're gawking unflatteringly at him as he pats you on the shoulder after that speech, winks, and then leads you over to the coffee dispenser.

You're still slightly taken aback by the compliment when the Dagger Squadron pours in. They're all sweat-soaked and stinking of jet fuel as they wander in, still clad in their flight suits. You can see the exhaustion heavy on their faces and shoulders as they line up patiently at the table after making beelines for you and your coffee dispenser. You hand cups of the steaming liquid over, hardly minding the fact that you're getting only grunts from most of the men.

Phoenix smiles as she accepts her hot water and walks to the assortment of tea bags. Bob greets you with "Thank you, miss" and the sweetest bashful grin you've ever seen as he takes the paper cup from you. Halo grins sunnily at you before downing half her coffee in three scorching gulps and asking you for a refill, which you do with a chuckle. The only aviator of the twelve you haven't seen yet is Hangman.

You're not quite sure where you stand with Lieutenant Jake Seresin. The first day Admiral Mitchell had introduced you, he'd flirted with you relentlessly. And he hasn't really stopped over the past month since then, either. So you're only left to wonder as you carefully cradle his cup of coffee in your hand, specially doctored the way he likes. Maybe that, too, is telling. You don't know any of the other's coffee preparations beyond knowing if they drink coffee or tea.

It's a few minutes before you see him finally enter the doors. Hangman looks to be just as exhausted as the others, but unlike them, you can see a streak of grease across one high cheekbone. His lips are pursed, and he's in serious thought as he bypasses you entirely before settling into his seat in front of the podium. You can't help the way your face falls just a little before you set the sole cup down and close the classroom doors.

Your heart is heavy as you carefully make Admiral Mitchell his cup of coffee. You set it in his hand mid-briefing as he goes over the exercises before settling into your customary seat next to Hangman. For a few moments, you weigh your actions carefully. You're still holding his coffee cup. Would it be considered anything other than a friendly gesture if you hand it to him mid-briefing? Or would he see it as a return of his affections? Or are you just overthinking this?

When you glance his way, you can see the exhaustion even more on his face. Purple shadows are under his eyes, and his lips are bitten red. He looks shattered like one word would push him over. That, more than anything, makes up your decision for you. You tap his forearm, and when those sharp green eyes find your face, you press the cup into his hands. He blinks at you, fingers loosely grasped around your own for several moments before he finally takes the cup. You smile when he brings it to his mouth, tasting the hot liquid before greedily taking a gulp.

You can feel his eyes boring through the side of your head throughout the remainder of the briefing as you take notes for Admiral Mitchell. A few minutes after you hand him the cup, you feel a light tap on your arm, and a note is laid against your clipboard. A giddy feeling rises up in you at the sight of Hangman’s spiky handwriting spidering across a scrap of paper.

I hope that in every life, you are there with me.

The scribbled words send a flush of heat through you. What are you supposed to think? This has to be another flirting game he’s playing with you. You're so happy that Admiral Mitchell isn't a long-winded person because the briefing is over in 45 minutes, and you're finally free to go home. Maybe you can finally figure out what is happening between Hangman and you. As the aviators stretch and start to file out of the room in ones and twos, you hand your notes over to the Admiral. You listen patiently at his side as he goes over the evaluation paperwork, and the both of you collate your notes. You’re not expecting to see anybody there when you turn back around. But there he is. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.

“Be careful with that one, Fri. He’s a good kid but a bit rash and a womanizer.” Those are Admiral Mitchell’s parting words before he gathers all of the paperwork into his arms and walks out the door. You know what the Admiral told you, but he’s never been anything but a sweetheart with you. And you’re a young adult. You’ve spent a fair bit of time at the Hard Deck around the Dagger Squadron, and you’ve never noticed Jake be anything other than a flirt. He hasn’t even taken ever taken anyone home while you could see it. He’s standing at attention in front of you when you step forward to him.

“Hi, Hangman.” Your voice is soft as you smile at him.

“Hi, beautiful. Call me Jake, please.” His voice wraps around you like a warm blanket. “So, you saw the note, I guess?”

“Yeah, I did.” It makes you smile seeing the bashful grin on his face. “Why did you write it? Did you mean it?”

He runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in feathery spikes. “Yeah, I did. I know by now that many people have warned you away from me. But you’re amazing. And I still wanted to take the chance. Would you maybe want to get dinner sometime?”

“Yeah, Jake. I’d love to.” You step into his space, standing on tiptoes to brush the grease from his cheekbone as you peck the other cheek. “Pick me up at 6?”

There’s a disbelieving grin on his face as you grab a ballpoint pen and scrawl your number on a piece of paper which you stick in his pocket.

“See you then, sweetheart!” You grin when you hear his words as you walk out the door to get a nap and prepare for your date. For a man usually so suave, you never would have thought a kiss on the cheek would fluster him so much.

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #100 follower celebration #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fluff #hangman imagine #hangman fluff

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bunnybunbun0 · 2 years

Text

i don´t know what is this,just had an epiphany and wrote this,english is not the first language so be ready for lots of errors.

also this is smut content so be aware!

Steve would definetely call you over to his place and fuck you relentlessly on his parents queen sized bed.

It would start off innocently,it was the peak of summer in hawkins,and Steve just wanted to chill with you in the pool,but the sight of you all wet in your tiny bikini that hugged your curves so thightly,was getting a rise out of him.

It was already getting late so you decieded to stay over for the night,which wasn't a problem since you were used to that,the problem was the heat. Summer in hawkins was cruel and was not letting you sleep! Even if the only thing you were wearing to bed was a skimpy little tanktop and white cotton panties making steves blood run south you were still very hot!

Good thing there was and air conditioner in steve's parents bed.

They were out of town as usual so it wouldn't be a problem to sneakly sleep their room, and thats exactly what you did!

The sight of you barely clothed, relishing in the divine cold breeze of the device,a sheen layer of sweat on your forehead,parted lips as you panted,well manicured hands fanning yourself,it was enough to give Steve a hard on.

It was too much and he couldnt stop himself from passionately kiss you,roaming his hands all over your body

“wait-stev-jeez what has gotten into you?”

The realization that you didnt even knew what you did to him made the bulge in his pants grow into a full erection.

“i-fuck baby,i need to take you right now”

His words went straight into your core,its fair to say that a whole day of seeing steve shirtless did things to you,but when you made a move to go back to his room, Steve just smacked his lips onto yours,at the same time,he pushed your panties to the side and roughly shoved two fingers inside of you,your loud surprised moan was quickly swalloed by him with a deep groan of his own.

His pace is fast and desperate,his mouth now sucking deep purple marks on your neck,the coil in your lower belly almost snapping,your whimpery cries getting louder and louder.

“Steve i-i”

“ I know baby,just let go,i got you”

His thumb drew quick eight figures on your sensitive and swollen clit,you cant hold anymore and cum with a scream of his name.

It was the most intense you have ever came, your vision goes blurry for a while, all you can do is moan and whimper steves name while your whole body convulses with pleasure.

“Fuck baby that was so hot”

Once you regain your strenghts and look up at him you see his arm and the sheets below you completely soaked,while your hazy mind tries to figure out what happened, Steve was pulling down his boxers.

“Think you can do that on my cock pretty girl?”

And thats the story of how you squirted all over Mr. and Mrs. Harrington fancy bed.

#steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine

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halothenthehorns · 3 months

Text

Chapter 17: I OPEN A COFFIN

"Dracula!?" Alex gasped with hope.

"We already have real monsters, why do you want more?" Percy frowned.

"I have fantasies too Percy, it's not all about you," Alex reminded.

"If Kelli sleeps in one of those, you just know it's going to be pink," Magnus snorted.

"Grave robbing Percy? That's what you've been reduced to?" Jason chuckled.

"How sacrilegious," Will snorted.

"Yes, because I really strike you as the kind of guy to be respectful," Percy scoffed with laughter.

Nico was to busy grinning to himself nobody seemed to assume this had anything to do with him to make a snarky remark as Alex eagerly started.

Jumping out a window five hundred feet aboveground is not usually my idea of fun.

"Really? Because you seem to do it a lot," Magnus frowned at him.

"The arch, you jumped off the side of a cruise ship, you were fully prepared to jump off that cliff after Annabeth, and now you jumped down the side of a mountain," Alex nodded along as he ticked off on his fingers. "Percy, you might have an adrenaline junkie problem."

"Yeah, the problem is to much adrenaline. Please tell me there's a cure," he sighed.

Especially when I'm wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.

"But that's the perfect time to do it," Nico told him blandly from personal experience. "If you do the chicken dance any other time, people just look at you strange."

"Now the YMCA on the other hand, that's a universal dance you don't need an excuse for," Will grinned.

Thalia forced a laugh she didn't feel, she knew she wouldn't find anything really funny again until Percy's feet were back on the ground and she could stop imagining this.

I plummeted toward the valley and the red rocks below. I was pretty sure I was going to become a grease spot in the Garden of the Gods, as Annabeth yelled from somewhere above me, "Spread your arms! Keep them extended."

The small part of my brain that wasn't engulfed in panic heard her, and my arms responded. As soon as I spread them out, the wings stiffened, caught the wind, and my descent slowed. I soared downward, but at a controlled angle, like a kite in a dive.

A sudden memory flashed back to Percy's mind. He'd been eight in the park with his mom, who had just given him an octopus kite, with its big blue nylon head and each of its legs a different color of the rainbow.

It had only fluttered in the air long enough for him to take his eyes off and smile at his mom before a flash of lightning had zapped it out of the sky. On a cloudless day.

Now he couldn't shake the mental image that was about to happen to him next, and there was no string that would fizzle his fingers as a result.

Experimentally, I flapped my arms once. I arced into the sky, the wind whistling in my ears.

"Yeah!" I yelled. The feeling was unbelievable. After getting the hang of it, I felt like the wings were part of my body. I could soar and swoop and dive anywhere I wanted to.

"Annabeth once again saving your ass," Alex snorted. "Please tell me you're keeping a tally on that?" He obviously directed to none other than Jason.

"Of course," he scoffed as if the question offended his very principles, like he even remembered what those were. "What do you take me for?"

I turned and saw my friends—Rachel, Annabeth, and Nico—spiraling above me, glinting in the sunlight. Behind them, smoke billowed from the windows of Daedalus's workshop.

"Land!" Annabeth yelled. "These wings won't last forever."

"How long?" Rachel asked.

"I don't want to find out!" Annabeth said.

We swooped down toward the Garden of the Gods. I did a complete circle around one of the rock spires and freaked out a couple of climbers.

"I bet they spend the rest of their life telling everyone they saw an eagle soar," Will offered.

"Or a really, really big sugar glider," Magnus smirked.

Then the four of us soared across the valley, over a road, and landed on the terrace of the visitor center. It was late afternoon and the place looked pretty empty, but we ripped off our wings as quickly as we could. Looking at them, I could see Annabeth was right. The self-adhesive seals that bound the wings to our backs were already melting, and we were shedding bronze feathers. It seemed a shame, but we couldn't fix them, and couldn't leave them around for the mortals, so we stuffed the wings in trash bins outside the cafeteria.

"Where they can rot next to cat litter and corpses," Thalia shivered in disgust one last time.

"I can't believe Annabeth wasn't having a conniption fit about throwing away something he made," Magnus admitted.

"I like to imagine Rachel kept a feather as a souvenir at least," Jason said with a sad smile. He definitely liked the idea of flying, it sounded immensely comforting, the idea of lounging on a cloud.

"I can't believe Daedalus still never found a way to make those better long-range," Alex looked wholly upset at a clearly failed experiment. "That had to be his life's work, right? To find a perfect set of wings that could have saved his son. I hope he never finds out they still wouldn't have worked."

"I don't think I go out of my way to mention it," Percy's promise felt lackluster, he didn't exactly have a good feeling about meeting Daedalus again...though the fact that he felt anything at all for it was a cause of concern all its own.

I used the tourist binocular camera to look up at the hill where Daedalus's workshop had been, but it had vanished. No more smoke. No broken windows. Just the side of a hill.

"Have I mentioned how awfully convenient it is your world just cleans up after itself like that," Magnus shook his head in a kind of daze all that was so close and yet so far from the world.

"Now if only we could convince the monsters and gods and titans to stop getting the world killed and we'd have it made," Percy nodded, crossing his hands behind his head and lounging back.

"The workshop moved," Annabeth guessed. "There's no telling where."

"So what do we do now?" I asked. "How do we get back in the maze?"

Percy smiled in surprise nobody pointed out a better way back to Camp would be Blackjack, because it wasn't the way of getting there. Grover and Tyson were still trapped in there, and the Camp was already as warned as they could be. They weren't going home until everybody in the quest was back together.

Annabeth gazed at the summit of Pikes Peak in the distance. "Maybe we can't. If Daedalus died...he said his life force was tied into the Labyrinth. The whole thing might've been destroyed. Maybe that will stop Luke's invasion."

"Along with Luke," Thalia said lowly. She knew that didn't happen, but there was a tiny kernel of relief in her that Annabeth had said it.

The troubled look on Percy's face meant Annabeth might not have said it with any hope, but even the acknowledgment of it gave Thalia some sense of peace Annabeth wasn't totally delusional about Luke's end.

I thought about Grover and Tyson, still down there somewhere.

Percy decidedly did not like the hesitant moment of silence that followed that sentence. He knew Alex wasn't doing it on purpose as a respectful moment because they were probably dead, but it sure felt that way to Percy for that one, horrible beat.

And Daedalus...even though he'd done some terrible things and put everybody I cared about at risk, it seemed like a pretty horrible way to die.

Will smiled at Percy, a really tender expression Percy couldn't begin to guess at. Will couldn't help it, the only person Percy had yet shown zero remorse for was Gabe. It was obviously not common around camp to get to hear insights of what everybody was thinking, Will just genuinely enjoyed the moment of hearing the constant and probable deaths on these quests weren't so easily glossed over.

"No," Nico said. "He isn't dead."

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

"I know when people die. It's this feeling I get, like a buzzing in my ears."

"Is that where that saying comes if your ears are buzzing somebody's talking about you?" Magnus asked.

"No," Nico shrugged, "I have no idea what started that myth."

"Happens to me every time I blow my nose," Jason rolled his eyes. Thalia swallowed a hysterical laugh the same thing actually happened to her, and she didn't think it was related to this nonsense.

"Hades kids get all the good superstitions," Will chuckled, "all I get is somebody blaming my dad for their allergies."

"The real question is, do Percy's ears buzz every time somebody pee's in the ocean," Alex said saintly.

"I wish I could ban you from the room," Percy frowned at him while Nico tried hard to stifle a laugh and was failing.

"What about Tyson and Grover, then?"

Nico shook his head. "That's harder. They're not humans or half-bloods. They don't have mortal souls."

"Cool," Magnus said with a blank look on his face like he wasn't sure if he meant that or not while Percy started chewing on his lip hard.

Will still gave Nico a hopeful smile though. This was the first time Nico had blatantly talked about even a hint of his powers in his past and nobody was reacting poorly at all. If anything it sounded like they really wanted to know more and just weren't sure how to phrase it.

"We have to get into town," Annabeth decided. "Our chances will be better of finding an entrance to the Labyrinth.

"Why?" Alex looked truly dumbfounded at that train of thought. "You literally know of one in your own woods. The location seems purely random."

"Man do I wish somebody had made a map of these so we could try and discern a pattern," Jason said with a smile like cherishing a long-lost loved one.

"Dude, please keep going before Jason starts writing calculations on the wall," Percy groaned.

We have to make it back to camp before Luke and his army."

"Could Rachel even get you to Camp through the labyrinth?" Jason puzzled. "If mortals aren't allowed in, which would trump the other?"

"Monsters can't get in either, but we're not betting on the maze to keep them out," Percy frowned too though as he wasn't sure if Rachel would just smack into an invisible barrier. No way would they leave her behind in there for any reason, but who knew where the nearest entrance would pop them out at.

"We could just take a plane," Rachel said.

I shuddered. "I don't fly."

"But you just did."

"That was low flying," I said, "and even that's risky. Flying up really high—that's Zeus's territory. I can't do it.

"Important things Rachel should know for future interactions with you," Thalia said agreeably.

"And yet you've flown in every adventure so far," Jason chuckled.

"I don't consider getting thrown into the stratosphere by a ship exploding flying," Percy sighed.

"And yet Zeus probably never will forgive you for it," Thalia reminded.

Besides, we don't even have time for a flight. The labyrinth is the quickest way back."

Nico pursed his lips and wondered if Percy would accept a shadow-traveling trip from his dark creepy powers if it would have gotten them back in time to save the camp. He couldn't have done it back then, to many people, he certainly hadn't the skill for it, but the thought fluttered like a shedding bronze feather in his mind...as he next wondered what Will would say if had to experience that...

I didn't want to say it, but I was also hoping that maybe, just maybe, we would find Grover and Tyson along the way.

Alex had to bite back the comment about Percy being an optimist. Those two could be in France or Utah, or dead for all he knew.

With Rachel as guide though, there was a slim chance he would find them again, and Alex liked to blame that idea more on logic than these weirdos rubbing off on him.

"So we need a car to take us into the city," Annabeth said.

Rachel looked down into the parking lot. She grimaced, as if she were about to do something she regretted. "I'll take care of it."

"Rachel can hotwire a car," Magnus said at once with absolute confidence. Was she a runaway? It seemed to fit.

"Why does Nico feel like the only good influence friend you have?" Will frowned, even knowing that wasn't true. "The rest of you nutjobs are all out here doing every illegal, objectionable, immoral, or obnoxious thing I could name, he's the only one actively choosing not to kill people."

"That's not a very high bar Will," Nico rolled his eyes.

"And yet you're still winning," Percy shrugged.

"How?" Annabeth asked.

"Just trust me."

Annabeth looked uneasy, but she nodded. "Okay,

"Prog...proggress?" Jason tried to say. At least she didn't offer a snarky comment instead.

"It takes her a while to get there, but she does trust people," Thalia said patiently.

"Exhibit A," Percy shouted, raising his hand with pride.

I'm going to buy a prism in the gift shop, try to make a rainbow, and send an Iris-message to camp."

"Did Rachel understand any of those words?" Will asked with twitching lips.

"I'm going to buy a rainbow and talk to my also fruity friends, seems plain enough," Alex nodded.

"I'll go with you," Nico said. "I'm hungry."

It also didn't hurt to get away from Percy for a second, Nico happily kept to himself. He'd only been back in his presence for twenty minutes, tops, and already several fantasies had come true about monsters and buildings exploding. All that was missing was the slow, dramatic walk away from it all as he brushed his hair aside.

The reality looking back was much grungier. Percy's shirt had been singed, he'd had a desperately unhappy look in his eyes as he worried about his missing friends and the impending attack. There had been no hand-holding or swooning from anybody.

"I'll stick with Rachel, then," I said. "Meet you guys in the parking lot."

Rachel frowned like she didn't want me with her. That made me feel kind of bad, but I followed her down to the parking lot anyway.

"Because if Percy ever took a hint we'd all have like, half as many problems," Thalia chuckled.

"There could have been very fearsome monsters in that parking lot," Percy insisted. There really was no point in reminding his curiosity on how she was going to make that happen would never let him walk away from this.

She headed toward a big black car parked at the edge of the lot. It was a chauffeured Lexus, like the kind I always saw driving around Manhattan.

The driver was out front, reading a newspaper. He wore a dark suit and tie.

"Easy money his name is Jeeves," Alex said with a very calculating look of where this was going.

"Or Jarvis, or Alfred, come on Alex, don't stereotype," Percy snorted.

"What are you going to do?" I asked Rachel.

"Beat him up, steal his keys," Thalia said with all the sarcastic confidence she had.

"Finally reveal how Annabeth chased that guy out of the car wash, all without planning on duplicating her of course," Jason smirked.

"Kick him in the shins and run for it while expecting Percy to hotwire the car," Magnus offered. Hey, he was from New York, maybe she just assumed he knew how.

"Just wait here," she said miserably. "Please."

Rachel marched straight up to the driver and talked to him. He frowned.

Rachel said something else. He turned pale and hastily folded up his magazine. He nodded and fumbled for his cell phone. After a brief call, he opened the back door of the car for Rachel to get in.

Percy watched in sympathetic commiseration as four mouths opened in shock around him. Will had certainly never heard about this at Camp, and it made Rachel's mystic arcane powers seem even more enchanting she'd been doing this before she spewed green smoke.

"She's a secret siren! I knew Percy couldn't have a normal friend!" Magnus yelped.

"What does that make you," Percy's frown was just as confused as his though.

"I never claimed to be normal," Magnus snorted.

Alex was rubbing the back of his neck though with a very contemplative look on his face. Rachel sure knew how to get around for a mortal, and he knew of one sure fire way that could be accomplished...though it didn't track at all with her going to a public school Percy would attend...unless...

She pointed back in my direction, and the driver bobbed his head some more, like Yes, ma'am. Whatever you want.

"Would you like a space necklace from the Cupar system? Would you like my firstborn child?!" Thalia said sycophantically.

"Mock me all you like, I am this close to stealing that book away and getting answers without your help, Pine Fresh," Percy sighed.

"And miss all my brilliant commentary," she sniffed, giving him a good hard poke in his spleen just because she could. He yelped in surprise while Alex went on, for once ignoring the casual violence in curiosity if there was any proof to his theory.

I couldn't figure out why he was acting so flustered.

"It's called having manners Percy, I know that's a really foreign idea to you," Jason told, but he was to bemused himself to hold much weight.

Rachel came back to get me just as Nico and Annabeth appeared from the gift shop.

"With not a snack in sight I might add," Percy said, taking his troubled eyes off the book to throw an accusing glare at Nico. "If you stuffed Skittles up your sleeve, I hope you share!"

"Annabeth and I weren't exactly walking around with spare change," Nico reminded with a raised brow. "She went to the bathroom with that prism to get any good light and water for her rainbow and I kept lookout nobody went in the podunk, lucky it was working, one-room bathroom." Percy noticed he didn't deny the claim of stolen sweets though as his stomach rumbled.

"I talked to Chiron," Annabeth said. "They're doing their best to prepare for battle, but he still wants us back. They're going to need every hero they can get.

Percy waited for the smart-ass crack about how he and Annabeth alone were going to turn the tide of battle...but it didn't come. Percy felt a sense of pride they had as much faith in his camp as he did, though the troubled look on Will's face still promised it hadn't exactly been a clean sweep of a victory with or without them.

Did we find a ride?"

"We found an alien abduction in progress," Magnus muttered.

"The driver's ready when we are," Rachel said.

The chauffeur was now talking to another guy in khakis and a polo shirt, probably his client who'd rented the car. The client was complaining, but I could hear the driver saying, "I'm sorry, sir. Emergency. I've ordered another car for you."

"If Rachel was claiming that, I would expect to see a lot more blood," Alex said cynically with a raised brow. "I don't see her or Annabeth pulling the 'my water broke' line."

"She's an artist, I would think she'd commit to the bit more, be screaming her heart out at minimum," Percy mockingly agreed.

"Come on," Rachel said. She led us to the car and got in without even looking at the flustered guy who'd rented it. A minute later we were cruising down the road.

"You and Annabeth didn't question this at all?" Magnus asked of Nico.

"We just flew down from a window in the mountain where an emposua and Canadians tried to kill us, a mortal not asking questions why we were using his car was the blessing of the day," Nico scoffed.

Magnus sighed, he'd thought he'd gotten better about keeping up with the weirdness of all this, but clearly he was starting to fall behind again.

The seats were leather. There was plenty of legroom. The backseat had flat-panel TVs built into the headrests and a mini-fridge stocked with bottled water, sodas, and snacks. We started pigging out.

"The only way to travel," Thalia shook her head in exasperation. "You should have abducted this girl back at the Hoover Dam Percy, she would have gotten us a free ride the rest of the way west too in luxray."

"I'm sorry kidnapping wasn't my first train of thought," Percy said blandly.

'It sure was Artimes's' Nico kept the burning comment to himself, and it wasn't as painful as he'd thought it was as it lit and dimmed in him quickly.

"Where to, Miss Dare?" the driver asked.

"I'm not sure yet, Robert," she said.

"Damn, guess you lost that easy money Alex," Percy chuckled.

"I'll make it back by betting when you next say something illegal, objectionable, immoral, or obnoxious." He easily promised.

Percy sighed, he should have known he'd be the sole contender on that list. Ah well, he was used to taking the blame anyway.

"We just need to drive through town and, uh, look around."

"Whatever you say, miss."

I looked at Rachel. "Do you know this guy?"

"No."

"And here my next theory was long lost cousin and blackmail," Jason admitted.

"But he dropped everything to help you. Why?"

"Just keep your eyes peeled," she said. "Help me look."

Which didn't exactly answer my question.

"Oh, well that's a relief, I thought I was just lagging behind again," Magnus frowned.

"Not in this room buddy, one speed only," Percy agreed.

We drove through Colorado Springs for about half an hour and saw nothing that Rachel considered a possible Labyrinth entrance. I was very aware of Rachel's shoulder pressing against mine. I kept wondering who she was exactly, and how she could walk up to some random chauffeur and immediately get a ride.

"Is that what it takes to impress you?" Nico asked in exasperation. "I bet I could do that." Not that he wanted to... it was the principle of the matter...

"Do I need to add a clause about not giving said chauffeur a heart attack?" Percy demanded with a raised brow.

"Well that rules out Annabeth too, guess Rachel gets to keep this unique skill to herself," Will chuckled.

"Yeah, but Rachel ate all the peanuts," Percy grinned, "I have to say, it dulled some of her mystique."

After about an hour we decided to head north toward Denver, thinking that maybe a bigger city would be more likely to have a Labyrinth entrance, but we were all getting nervous. We were losing time.

Then right as we were leaving Colorado Springs, Rachel sat bolt upright. "Get off the highway!"

"That's better than screaming, oh my god monster, but somehow not by much," Magnus sighed.

"I was half expecting her to see vampires running alongside the car," Jason admitted.

The driver glanced back. "Miss?"

"I saw something, I think. Get off here."

The driver swerved across traffic and took the exit.

Alex's gleefully evil eyes were back on full display, clearly plotting whatever diabolical thing he'd do with someone willing to dart across traffic on a whim. It only made Magnus piss his pants a little.

"What did you see?" I asked, because we were pretty much out of the city now. There wasn't anything around except hills, grassland, and some scattered farm buildings. Rachel had the driver turn down this unpromising dirt road. We drove by a sign too fast for me to read it, but Rachel said, "Western Museum of Mining & Industry."

For a museum, it didn't look like much—a little house like an oldfashioned railroad station, some drills and pumps and old steam shovels on display outside.

"You've been spoiled by visiting all the good museums already," Thalia reminded. "This is probably their major economy or something Percy, be a little more respectful."

"It's going to take a lot more steam shovels for that to happen, I demand hydraulics," Percy smirked.

"There." Rachel pointed to a hole in the side of a nearby hill—a tunnel that was boarded up and chained. "An old mine entrance."

"A door to the Labyrinth?" Annabeth asked. "How can you be sure?"

"Why is she still wasting her breath questioning this?" Nico asked in exhaustion.

"Someboyd's got to double-check our work around there, and it's not going to be me," Percy shrugged.

"Well, look at it!" Rachel said. "I mean...I can see it, okay?"

She thanked the driver and we all got out. He didn't ask for money or anything.

There was an awkward pause where everybody expected somebody to say something. Alex didn't blurt out any wild ideas about mind control, Jason didn't offer any theories of how she pulled that off though.

There was just silence as they all tried to process for a moment if this guy had just done a random nice thing for a bunch of kids.

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Miss Dare? I'd be happy to call your—"

"No!" Rachel said. "No, really. Thanks, Robert. But we're fine."

Rachel had watched him go with a look on her face Nico had recognized at the time with no clue why. Percy and Annabeth had turned attention at once to their destination, but looking back he saw now she was regretting her 'power.' Her ability to manipulate someone into doing her bidding just by invoking her father's name. It was a heedy power she toed the line with he still struggled against.

The museum seemed to be closed, so nobody bothered us as we climbed the hill to the mine shaft. When we got to the entrance, I saw the mark of Daedalus engraved on the padlock, though how Rachel had seen something so tiny all the way from the highway I had no idea.

"A valid question," Jason promised, "though I'm over here wondering who went around and put all those marks up. Did Daedalus play Where's Waldo with a US map and throw darts?"

Magnus still took an extra second to realize he was talking about Quintus, that it was possible he'd been alive so long he'd lived in every city in the states, had moved west with every new plot of land and done this himself for his own means. The idea melted his mind.

I touched the padlock and the chains fell away. We kicked down a few boards and walked inside.

For better or worse, we were back in the Labyrinth.

"Worse. I'm pretty confident it's going to be worse," Percy said with entirely to much confidence for the guy who had lived through it and couldn't remember.

The dirt tunnels turned to stone. They wound around and split off and basically tried to confuse us, but Rachel had no trouble guiding us. We told her we needed to get back to New York, and she hardly even paused when the tunnels offered a choice.

To my surprise, Rachel and Annabeth started up a conversation as we walked. Annabeth asked her more about her background, but Rachel was evasive, so they started talking about architecture. It turned out that Rachel knew something about it from studying art. They talked about different facades on buildings around New York—"Have you seen this one," blah, blah, blah,

"I get the feeling Percy was riveted by this conversation," Jason snorted in amusement, and deeply wishing he could fill in the blanks of those blahs. He was now right along with Percy in his jealousy of the universe neither girl was here!

"I'm just over here glad she's finally making friends," Thalia said with a proud smile. She worried about that a bit when she'd left for the Hunters. She knew Annabeth had Percy, and everybody in Camp respected her, but in the time they'd spent together in the mortal world catching up, her little sister hadn't exactly given a list of friends she missed at Camp. She missed the freedom of walking around on the green grass and strawberry fields without a hall pass, and the activities, and avoiding the harpies when she wanted out after curfew to sneak down to the ocean, but just a few sparse details about her half-siblings.

Another thing she'd once resented Percy for but now found herself more than grateful to. The boy made friends everywhere he went, and his friends were going to be Annabeth's friends if they wanted to stay that way.

so I hung back and walked next to Nico in uncomfortable silence.

"No, Percy, say it ain't so. Tell me how you really feel," Nico said deadpan.

"I could have started whistling show tunes to ease the mood," Percy offered just as sarcastically. "There's a pretty wild swing on people who love and hate that though, I don't know you well enough to guess."

"Imagine if someone had actually locked them in a room together," Alex said with way to much critical thinking in the tone of his voice. "Two opposing personalities, that Big Bad Kid 3 whatever tension hitting its breaking point, they'd have either killed each other or come out as best friends."

"Isn't that how everybody makes friends?" Percy shrugged, throwing an arm over Thalia's shoulders.

She smacked him and scoffed, "if we were locked in a room together they'd never find the body."

Nico scratched at his ear and decided to keep the thoughts to himself; A, they were once trapped in a room together and Percy did consider killing him and B, they were locked in a room together now and nobody had actively started killing yet; so it really was anybodys guess how this would end.

"Thanks for coming after us," I told him at last.

Will smiled that of course Percy's first instinct was to thank Nico.

Nico, however, couldn't help a little twitch under his skin that the last person who had thanked Percy was Kronos, and didn't appreciate all the easy parallel lines he could always draw there.

Nico's eyes narrowed. He didn't seem as angry as he used to—just suspicious, careful.

It seemed to be how he'd mellowed out to now, Jason noticed. Gone was that happy little kid, but at least this quiet, suspicious, careful kid didn't seem to have a hint of homicidal return. He just seemed kind of sad. Jason didn't even remember how he used to be and he cracked a smile whenever he found the easiest chance.

"I owed you for the ranch, Percy. Plus...I wanted to see Daedalus for myself. Minos was right, in a way. Daedalus should die. Nobody should be able to avoid death that long. It's not natural."

"What is natural anyways?" Thalia said with a challenging smirk. "Fire doesn't occur without a biological factor, and yet we have Greek fire." Here Nico was mocking Annabeth for wanting to always make sense when he thought he could raise the dead and have natural order.

Fire- occurs- endless gasless fire- gas feeds fire- wait what is gas again- oh right- "Dinosaurs still exist as gas," Percy sounded like he was agreeing even as he went cross-eyed. "Hey, do you think the gods rode on them? I bet they all fought over who would win in fights like we still do. Bet I could ask my dad-"

He was forced to stop his verbal ADHD rant at the loud laughter and then chuckled along until Alex got his breath back enough to keep going. He really wished Riptide would work as a pen right now though, he wanted to jot that one on his hand to ask later.

"That's what you were after all along," I said. "Trading Daedalus's soul for your sister's."

"You know what, I take it all back," Magnus rolled his eyes, "Percy does have a filter, it's just so dam clotted with blonde hair the only thoughts that don't come through are when you won't shut up about how pretty my cousin is."

"I'm always slipping through the cracks!" Nico somehow managed to make that sound like a good thing as Will looked at him in concern.

"What?" Percy still asked blankly like he couldn't figure out why anyone would scold him for bringing up a sensitive topic.

Nico walked for another fifty yards before answering. "It hasn't been easy, you know. Having only the dead for company. Knowing that I'll never be accepted by the living. Only the dead respect me, and they only do that out of fear."

Jason's mouth ticked, and he had no clue. It wasn't pleasant, to suddenly have a lurching inside him that made him wonder if he'd ever described himself like that with no clue why...but the feeling was fleeting and didn't linger as his headache immediately overrode the sensation.

Percy was biting his tongue hard, proving Magnus's statement false once again as he stopped himself saying maybe that wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't run away in the first place! If he could use the maze and the ghosts to figure out how to get around, he could have come back to camp.

"You could be accepted," I said. "You could have friends at camp."

He stared at me. "Do you really believe that, Percy?"

I didn't answer. The truth was, I didn't know. Nico had always been a little different, but since Bianca's death, he'd gotten almost...scary. He had his father's eyes—that intense, manic fire that made you suspect he was either a genius or a madman. And the way he'd banished Minos, and called himself the king of ghosts—it was kind of impressive, but it made me uncomfortable too.

"Sorry," Percy said it like a knee-jerk reaction. Like he was still on the roof about to catch him before he fell, and yet his hand twitched in his lap like he'd pull away just as fast.

Nico knew he was apologizing the thought was said out loud, not because he'd thought it.

Which was kind of a relief. A nice feeling to know what Percy really thought of him instead of constantly wondering and guessing. It's not like there had ever been a question, but getting the answer was still appreciated. Somewhere deep down. "Uhhu," was all Nico could think to say to that.

Was Percy apologizing, saying he shouldn't come back to camp because he wouldn't be accepted? He knew that. And yet Percy made a face like there were dancing skeletons doing the tango every time it was mentioned he'd run away.

"Percy's just uncomfortable around anyone competent, like Thalia and Annabeth obviously," Alex scoffed - "Hey," Percy sighed- "We accept you Nico," he reminded, looking a touch hurt he wasn't everybody's first and last thought.

"Because you've been stuck in a room with me for days and I haven't killed you all," his biting sarcasm held no weight though, he found that an odd anomaly.

"I mean, that's a bonus, not the point," Jason snorted, waving a mocking hand at Percy who pretended to look offended.

Nico struggled to answer with the sudden heat in his face. Will and Percy wouldn't have let these guys murder Luke if he'd been trapped in here, it wasn't the same. They were kicking it in luxury survival mode and would all part ways the moment they could.

"It doesn't have to be like that Nico," Will said robustly like he'd read his mind, a stern edge in his voice like he was daring anyone to say anything now.

Yet even Thalia, who knew his contribution during the Titan war, looked a little to guilty as her eyes shifted from Percy to Nico and chose not to say anything. She thought Will naive, Children of the Big Three didn't get that balance between respect and friendship, Percy seemed unique in that. She'd certainly lived the experience in her short months at camp with everybody avoiding eye contact and afraid to step on her toes lest she electrocute them. The only ones who had never been like that were Luke, Annabeth, and Percy.

"It doesn't matter now," Nico sounded calm, factual. "I'll never know the difference, they all know so it won't feel real."

Percy went crosseyed in confusion when the Camp found out about this but Will wasn't letting go that easily.

"I'm not saying you'll be universally loved! I can't stand Ashely McNabb, I swear she has Munchausen's as much as she's in the infirmary complaining about something! Nobody is, have you met Clarisse?" He threw his hands up in exasperation, ruffling the hair along Nico's neck. "We took in Chris without question! We would have taken in Ethan despite how hard that would have been on a lot of kids who still feel betrayed by Luke and wouldn't believe some idiot would flip-flop on sides like that. You could at least give the place a real chance to prove that."

Nico didn't outright answer. Something about having a solid future like that ahead made him queasy. He still felt that need to go into Tartarus, to find out what was happening down there, and he didn't believe he could do both without being some sort of infectious plague on the camp.

When it was apparent Nico and Will were just going to have a staring contest over there, Alex kept reading. Not that this wasn't a riveting debate over universal morals, but whoever blinked first would just ruin the tension anyway and he'd rather do that himself.

Before I could figure out what to tell him, I ran into Rachel, who'd stopped in front of me.

"That's one way to end an awkward conversation," Magnus muttered. "I might just get up and run into a wall next time it starts getting to quiet in here."

"I'll have the camera ready," Alex promised without looking up.

We'd come to a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight ahead, but a side tunnel T'd off to the right—a circular shaft carved from volcanic rock.

"Do you go diamond mining?" Thalia asked with such a horribly painful build-up in her throat she was sure that didn't sound intelligible.

"I do not," Percy said with a dull flush on his face for whom his mind jumped to.

"What is it?" I asked.

Rachel stared down the dark tunnel. In the dim flashlight beam, her face looked like one of Nico's specters.

"Which is not an effect of proximity from being around him," Will added cheerfully like somebody was going to rush and check a mirror.

Yet only Nico looked soothed when nobody moved. Will would have rolled his eyes at him if it wasn't just a touch more sad.

"Is it that way?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Rachel said nervously. "Not at all."

"Why are we stopping then?" I asked.

"To make sure you're keeping up?" Jason offered.

"Not in the slightest," Percy sighed.

"Listen," Nico said.

I heard wind coming down the tunnel, as if the exit were close. And I smelled something vaguely familiar—something that brought back bad memories.

"Eucalyptus trees," I said. "Like in California."

"How's that abdication of cough drops going?" Thalia asked, wishing to plug her own nose up at just the thought.

"Surprisingly well, I don't get the flu or allergies very much," Percy resisted the urge to stuff his tongue down his throat to gag up any smell that wasn't in the memory of his nose.

Last winter, when we'd faced Luke and the Titan Atlas on top of Mount Tamalpais, the air had smelled like that.

Percy swallowed a lump in his throat as the thought easily echoed around his brain now. He'd meant to say that out loud, to warn Rachel and Nico what could have been at the other end of that tunnel, but the words had lodged in place to just leave his head feeling cluttered.

"There's something evil down that tunnel," Rachel said. "Something very powerful."

"And the smell of death," Nico added, which made me feel a whole lot better.

"The two usually go hand in hand," Jason agreed blandly, even as his innards squirmed at the idea of Percy going back there. He had no reason to...and yet Jason really wanted him to. Any time Percy got near California, and especially this mountain, the powerful feeling of his memories was always right on the cusp of being understood, no matter how painful it was.

Annabeth and I exchanged glances.

"Luke's entrance," she guessed.

"Gods, if she starts naming all the tunnels and actually trying to map this place out again you'll never leave," Alex said with an awkward laugh that still managed to sound genuine to everyone but him.

"The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans' palace."

"I have to check it out," I said.

"Percy, no."

"Two words that have never done any good," Thalia snorted.

"So we know if she ever says Percy, yes, I'll be unstoppable," Percy grinned.

"Luke could be right here," I said. "Or...or Kronos. I have to find out what's going on."

Annabeth hesitated. "Then we'll all go."

There was a collective wince around the room that Percy didn't cause this time. Absolutely nobody seemed to think it was a good idea to put Annabeth back around Luke, and yet, none of them would have tried arguing the point with her. Last time she and Percy had separated...hadn't ended well.

"No," I said. "It's too dangerous. If they got hold of Nico, or Rachel for that matter, Kronos could use them. You stay here and guard them."

Nico still felt just as small and unseen as he had then, and he still hated himself for that hold Percy would always seem to have over him no matter how desensitized he became to his crush. He didn't need guarding! He, unlike Percy and Annabeth, had never been fooled by Luke! He should have been the one to go!

He'd been about to slip away to prove as much when those girls seemingly agreed with that decision.

A very large part of him had wanted to tell Annabeth and Rachel to hit the road. To split up. He and Percy could handle this while they went to warn camp, it would have been perfect, he could have navigated the maze just fine.

And yet, he'd been far to much of a coward back then to voice such a thing, and it never would have had a good outcome. Percy would never see him as anything more than what they were now. Maybe acquaintances, possibly friends.

What I didn't say: I was also worried about Annabeth. I didn't trust what she would do if she saw Luke again. He had fooled her and manipulated her too many times before.

"Percy, don't," Rachel said. "Don't go up there alone."

"I'll be quick," I promised. "I won't do anything stupid."

Jason made a terribly mocking scoff as he looked at Percy in concern. "You can't even ask yourself what would Annabeth do to avoid that because she's just as bad!"

"Then I follow my own instincts, they've gotten me this far," Percy said simply.

"We're all doomed," Jason did not look very reassured.

Annabeth took her Yankees cap out of her pocket. "At least take this. And be careful."

"Thanks." I remembered the last time Annabeth and I had parted ways, when she'd given me a kiss for luck in Mount St. Helens. This time, all I got was the hat.

"I guess this decision isn't that stupid," Will grinned. "She only shows you affection when she's scared, so she's not that worried about you this time."

"Yeah, that's it," Percy sighed. "So what you're saying is, I should have decided to walk in backward and pretended to join their side."

"Annabeth definitely would have kissed you again if that was the stupid plan you went with," Jason rolled his eyes.

"You're assuming he had a plan at all," Thalia stage whispered.

I put it on. "Here goes nothing." And I sneaked invisibly down the dark stone tunnel.*

"And the countdown for the next disaster begins," Percy sighed for everybody this time. It did not help what a horrible feeling this place was giving him, like this quick trip to Mount Tam wasn't going to be any better than the last time.

Before I even got to the exit I heard voices: the growling, barking sounds of sea-demon smiths, the telekhines.

Percy looked mildly offended his awful stunt hadn't even vaporized all of these things. Either that or they'd just regenerated that fast because his luck was truly the worst.

"At least we salvaged the blade," one said. "The master will still reward us."

Magnus's mind flashed to a guy who lived near the local landfill who salvaged anything of value and then threw it in the ocean where he was sure his master dwelled and would one day call out to him. He was now vaguely concerned if Poseidon or some other ocean spirit could put curses on mortals or something.

"Yes! Yes!" a second shrieked. "Rewards beyond measure!"

"I wonder if they share that with all their telekhine kind, or if they're just the greedy ones who are going to hoard it for generations," Alex huffed.

"Like Kronos is going to hold up his end of the bargain anyways," Jason scoffed.

Thalia felt a horrible feeling deep in her chest that made her want to scream. This would be the last time they'd be able to speak about Kronos in the abstract...soon they'd all have a face to attach to the Titan, one she'd never wanted to look away from once.

Another voice, this one more human, said: "Um, yeah, well that's great. Now, if you're done with me—"

"No, half-blood!" a telekhine said. "You must help us make the presentation. It is a great honor!"

"Oh, well in that case," Magnus blew a raspberry and flipped off the monsters that had nearly killed Percy.

Percy chuckled appreciatively, but his stomach twisted hard at how familiar that voice had sounded. Apparently, no good deed was going to go unpunished.

"Gee, thanks," the half-blood said, and I realized it was Ethan Nakamura, the guy who'd run away after I'd saved his sorry life in the arena.

"Is this an ad to never save somebody's life again?" Thalia asked, that sick feeling in her slowly but steadily rising up, her face growing hot. "I'm thinking about throwing my hat in with that sponsorship."

"Don't forget to do a thorough background check Thals," Percy said with a deep frown of concern at her. He knew she was just kidding, she'd no more stand around and watch someone die than he would, but it was an especially bleak joke from her. There were shadows flickering in her dark blue eyes that had nothing to do with this dark room hinting when her mind really was.

I crept toward the end of the tunnel. I had to remind myself I was invisible. They shouldn't be able to see me.

"Doesn't mean you should start slacking," Jason said sharply.

"Yeah, I was going to start singing opera music or something, I thought that would be real subtle," Percy rolled his eyes.

"You don't even know any opera songs," Alex accused.

"You got me, it was going to be Led Zepplin," Percy grinned.

Thalia laughed in surprise, though she visibly winced too. Percy frowned steadily at her, that look on his face she hated the most. It was usually the dumbass expression that meant he noticed something when he was supposed to be helping her fight.

A blast of cold air hit me as I emerged. I was standing near the top of Mount Tam. The Pacific Ocean spread out below, gray under a cloudy sky.

About twenty feet downhill, two telekhines were placing something on a big rock—something long and thin and wrapped in a black cloth. Ethan was helping them open it.

"Careful, fool," the telekhine scolded. "One touch, and the blade will sever your soul from your body."

Ethan swallowed nervously. "Maybe I'll let you unwrap it, then."

"Not so brave now Percy's not about to be the one to kill him," Alex frowned.

"Thanks, I feel real special," Percy frowned along.

I glanced up at the mountain's peak, where a black marble fortress loomed, just like I'd seen in my dreams. It reminded me of an oversized mausoleum, with walls fifty feet high. I had no idea how mortals could miss the fact that it was here.

"Mount Olympus hangs above New York," Magnus was the one to remind with a completely blank face, "I'm so done questioning this." However, the fact that his face still ticked proved that a minor lie and he was just done begging the world to make sense of it.

But then again, everything below the summit seemed fuzzy to me, as if there were a thick veil between me and the lower half of the mountain.

Thalia tried hard to swallow, but it felt like her body was fighting her, she could taste the acid swiftly climbing. It had nothing to do with heights for once.

There was magic going on here—really powerful Mist.

Above me, the sky swirled into a huge funnel cloud. I couldn't see Atlas, but I could hear him groaning in the distance, still laboring under the weight of the sky, just beyond the fortress.

Percy still could have pointed to the exact boulder Zoe had been thrown into. He blinked rapidly against his painful eyes as he remembered Calypso.

He wished he could somehow add a few extra layers to Atlas's punishment.

"There!" the telekhine said. Reverently, he lifted the weapon, and my blood turned to ice.

It was a scythe—a six foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon, with a wooden handle wrapped in leather. The blade glinted two different colors— steel and bronze.

Percy rubbed his thigh where that blade had once sliced right through him. He exchanged a troubled look with Thalia, the hurt and vengeance all mingled together like the forge that had done this. Luke had used that to cut off everybody who mattered to him in service of Kronos...and they hoped it wasn't worth it.

"Is that a special telekhine ability only?" Alex asked with a rather sad smile for still getting a joke in. "If they steal my weapon, will they give me back a better one? Does the stealing have to be explicit, or do they do trades for volcanos?"

"I get the feeling that sword was a gift Alex, and Luke gave it back to them willingly," Jason told him with bland sarcasm.

"Killjoy," Alex rolled his eyes at murdering such fantasies of thieving gone right.

It was the weapon of Kronos, the one he'd used to slice up his father, Ouranos, before the gods had taken it away from him and cut Kronos to pieces, casting him into Tartarus. Now the weapon was re-forged.

"We must sanctify it in blood," the telekhine said. "Then you, half-blood, shall help present it when the lord awakes."

"But he didn't even win his fight!" Thalia protested. "What was he doing there in a place of honor?" She said that like one would of a porta potty.

"They got desperate and used the only fool they could grab," Jason scowled.

I ran toward the fortress, my pulse pounding in my ears. I didn't want to get anywhere close to that horrible black mausoleum, but I knew what I had to do. I had to stop Kronos from rising. This might be my only chance.

There was ominous silence in the room for several moments.

Then they realized Alex was just pausing dramatically for effect before he took a breath to keep going. Percy almost wished he wouldn't. He had a bad feeling about this, and not once had this kind of gut-deep bad feeling turned out to be wrong.

I dashed through a dark foyer and into the main hall. The floor shined like a mahogany piano—pure black and yet full of light. Black marble statues lined the walls. I didn't recognize the faces, but I knew I was looking at images of the Titans who'd ruled before the gods. At the end of the room, between two bronze braziers, was a dais. And on the dais, the golden sarcophagus.

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fires. Luke wasn't here.

No guards. Nothing.

"It's to easy," Magnus finally couldn't help but state the obvious.

"Which has never happened in my life and I'm finally owed one!" Percy tried to say with triumph, even shaking his fist at the sky like he was daring the god of the heavens himself to smite him for saying otherwise.

It didn't exactly invoke a feeling of safeness and assurance this was going to go well.

It was too easy, but I approached the dais.

Percy sighed and hung his head. Nobody even mocked Magnus for the book copy. It was just that awkwardly silent. "Yeah, I know," Percy said. "Time to play how does it all go wrong?"

"Well, we know it's probably not Dracula in that coffin, or if it is, Kronos has allies cooler than you and I'm not going to be rooting for you anymore, so I'm out," Alex shrugged, and seeing as he had the book, that kind of mattered the most right now.

The sarcophagus was just like I remembered—about ten feet long, much too big for a human. It was carved with elaborate scenes of death and destruction, pictures of the gods being trodden under chariots, temples and famous world landmarks being smashed and burned. The whole coffin gave off an aura of extreme cold, like I was walking into a freezer. My breath began to steam.

I drew Riptide and took a little comfort from the familiar weight of the sword in my hand.

Thalia couldn't help but paint over the image, Percy's black hair turning blond, him shooting up several inches and his eyes turning bright blue; Luke's final moments. Had he walked into the room with confidence and stopped to admire his final resting place with a smile? Had he been crying and regretting this as Kronos egged on his every step? Had he ever prayed to his father for a way out in a last desperate attempt? Would he have checked every corner, hoping beyond hope for someone to show up and help him out of this one last time?

Had he lain down in peace it was finally over?

She still remembered him throwing her arm over his shoulder, supporting all of her weight as she tried to limp along. She'd gasped he should take Annabeth and run, but he hadn't listened to her that time, instead telling her, "you can live with dignity, you can't die with it," and she hadn't said another word about it all the way to his mother's house.

What had been his final thought that day? What would he call this death? What Kronos had done to his body was perverse, as far from dignifying as she could imagine.

Whenever I'd approached Kronos before, his evil voice had spoken in my mind. Why was he silent now?

"Did he finally run out of things to say?" Nico asked without hope. "They say silence speaks louder than words, is he just trying to be louder than your constant internal monolog?"

"I have a feeling he was talking to himself when no one was around to listen in Tartarus, I doubt that's it," Percy was fighting off the urge to shiver in here. His body wasn't cold, only his memory of what was about to come.

He'd been shred into a thousand pieces, cut with his own scythe. What would I find if I opened that lid? How could they make a new body for him?

"Duct tape?" Alex offered.

"I vote a welding torch, it sounds more painful," Jason murmured, and they all felt a thrill of horror as they wondered if that's what Daedalus had done. Given someone other than himself an automaton body.

I had no answers. I just knew that if he was about to rise, I had to strike him down before he got his scythe. I had to figure out a way to stop him.

I stood over the coffin.

Jason looked blearily at the book, his gaze switching from its solid black cover to Percy and Thalia for several moments with deja vu swimming on the brain...before it clicked. Percy had dreamed of this moment once. Standing over this coffin, ready to kill Kronos...was Thalia going to appear again to help get the job done?

She looked just as pale and miserable as she had back then. He understood her expression now, truly one of mourning, which really didn't click with her having any feelings other than triumph over the Titan Lord's defeat. She'd screamed in that dream...a scream of fear for what was inside...

The lid was decorated even more intricately than the sides—with scenes of carnage and power. In the middle was an inscription carved in letters even older than Greek, a language of magic. I couldn't read it, exactly, but I knew what it said: KRONOS, LORD OF TIME.

"What a boring epitaph," Magnus raised a brow. "No, here lie's dad, he tried to eat us all and deserves this. I would have settled for, in loving memory of the dude who birthed us the second time and nothing more."

"Gods just aren't that original Magnus, we've gone over this," Nico scoffed.

"I bet the Titans made it and just couldn't be bothered," Alex rolled his eyes.

My hand touched the lid. My fingertips turned blue. Frost gathered on my sword.

"Guess Jason finally gets his answer about if I can get frostbite," Percy muttered as his stomach turned. He tried to calm it, constantly convince and remind himself nobody could possibly get hurt from this except him and he was fine...maybe he'd finally saved the world with one easy stab and Annabeth would hold his hand and kiss him this time.

Then I heard noises behind me—voices approaching. It was now or never.

I pushed back the golden lid and it fell to the floor with a huge WHOOOOM!

Thalia knew there was nothing she could do to brace herself. She wished there was, she would have done anything to feel prepared for what she knew was coming next, but there was nothing. She just felt cold, and empty, and primed for the pain that every word was going to cause her next.

I lifted my sword, ready to strike. But when I looked inside, I didn't comprehend what I was seeing. Mortal legs, dressed in gray pants. A white T-shirt, hands folded over his stomach. One piece of his chest was missing—a clean black hole about the size of a bullet wound, right where his heart should've been. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale. Blond hair...and a scar running along the left side of his face.

The body in the coffin was Luke's.

She'd known this was coming all along, reliving these horrible memories of Percy's could lead to no other choice of words than those, and yet Thalia still felt that gasp of air pass her lips. A traitorous tear slipped from her cheek.

She couldn't just sit here right now. She didn't care how weak or childish it felt, a betrayal of her own body as she jumped up with bile in her throat blocking her scream of protest.

This was not something she'd ever wanted to hear in vivid detail, and her mind claimed some protection from that as she stormed out of the room without a word...leaving a storm behind.

Percy gave her a thirty-second head start as he dodged a lightning cloud to go after her. Jason muttered something about raincoats as he ducked into the nearest room, but Percy felt eyes on the back of his neck until he very cleverly and with Sherlockian skill figured out which room she'd tried to barricade herself in by the loudest bass guitar he'd ever heard in his life.

He pushed the door open, one hand trying to reflexively come up and cover his ear to stop it bleeding. Thalia was standing with her hand inside the fridge where a large stereo was blasting music, her fingers still managing to fiddle with the links of her bracelet on that wrist awkwardly with the other.**

The lyrics weren't exactly cheery either, what he could make out through the screaming.

He knew he was probably going to get all of his bones shocked like a stupid cartoon outline and his hair would never lie flat again for this, but he went around beside her and waved his hand experimentally in front of her face to at least let her know he was here.

Her mouth twitched, the smallest degree, but her brow furrowed in concentration and somehow the music got louder. His teeth were vibrating in his skull. His eardrums felt like somebody was crumpling up sandpaper in them.

Stubbornness set in though as he leaned closer and blew on her face, disturbing the hair that was swaying along to the beat.

Her eyes snapped open, electricity crackled from her nose and he really hoped she never decided to get a nose ring, but she took her hand off the speaker and it finally dulled into a background noise as his ears popped. If he wasn't in the ocean he'd probably never get his hearing back.

"What are you, five?" She scowled. "You think I'm going to start whining you're breathing the same air as me?"

"Nah," he shrugged, "I just knew if I tapped you on the shoulder you would have murdered me without hesitation. This seemed safer."

"I probably can't kill you down here," she said with the confidence of one who had really considered it. "I don't want to hear the rest of that. Come get me when you're back in the maze."

"Fair," Percy promised. "Just wanted to check if you need anything besides new eardrums first. Punching bag? Black liquorice?"

She smiled against her will he did remember the kind of candy she liked.

He had to ruin the sweet moment though with a classic Percy, "I know you're beating yourself up, and you shouldn't. You couldn't have done anything differently."

"Go away Percy," she ground out, smile vanishing.

"What could you do?" He insisted. "Not saved his life on that hill? Pretend to join his side to talk him out of this? Annabeth thought of every plan and never found one crazy enough to use, you couldn't have changed-"

"I know!" She snapped as loud as the music had been. Thunder rumbled in the distance. "That's the worst part! I know I couldn't have fixed this and I hate him and I hate myself for hating him and I, I hate that I loved him!"

She stopped with a gasp, another exhale of air that fizzled with electricity between them and made Percy's heart zap like a paddle blast he had not needed. He swatted his chest impatiently, ignoring his fingers twitching against their will as his nerves were clearly standing on end too.

He watched her turn away, her hand reaching for the radio. Gods knew how long she'd been holding all that in. He suspected she'd never talked to Annabeth about this, or at least, it hadn't ended any better than grumpy silence if they started, considering that's all he got out of Annabeth defending Luke. He highly suspected she wouldn't talk to the other Hunters about this, the boy-hating club would just take her side and agree Luke wasn't worth the wasted breath and move on.

No one who was willing to listen without taking sides. She just needed space from any judgy opinion.

"Okay," he managed before the spark from her fingers could make contact. "I'll come get you like you asked."

"Thanks," she whispered.

He got to the door, but the music didn't start again.

"Do you really think that Percy?" She asked, face still turned away. "That we really couldn't have done anything differently?"

"Yeah," he said. He didn't need to know the whole story, or if this was all he'd found out in his life and the war was still raging on. He still believed it no matter the outcome, the two of them had done everything they could to save as many lives as possible.

"Right," she muttered with distaste. "So why put myself through listening to it, it won't change anything. It only makes me hate everything I ever remember about him."

"Right," he agreed, "no need to put yourself through that."

She hated Percy for not making this easy on her and insisting she should come hear every detail anyway or ask what she was hiding from. She knew she was playing right into his manipulative hand by falling for the 'I'm only on your side' smile on his face. If she didn't find a way to stab some nonvital part of him through that Achilles curse than she'd consider this trip a failure.

"Right," she echoed as she stomped around the bed.

He stayed in the doorway with that stupid smile. "Sure you don't need anything?"

"Move Perky!"

He stepped aside with his hands raised and she cussed him out all the way back he was taller than her and yet she could still drop-kick his ass. Why was she doing this to herself?!

She felt insane all of a sudden, like she'd been trying to convince herself she could go back to the innocence of it all. She knew all the signs coming and knew how it ended, but there was nothing she could do to turn a blind eye to it anymore. It had hit, and she just had to keep going...

They came back in to see the clouds had mostly subsided to murky black swirls that were escaping and dispersing out of the cracks in every wall, with everybody having an umbrella in hand and chilling in place like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

They were getting oddly good at that.

"How the hell do you make it rain underwater anyways?" Alex asked, sticking his hand out from under the pink and green nylon to catch a few drops, watching it fall through the cracks in the floor with interest.

"Hey Nico," Will grinned, staying close underneath Nico's arm hoisting a solid black one instead of holding his own. He looked ridiculous as ever all scrunched up and doubled over, but he had a stupidly delighted smile on his face while cupping his hands to collect some. Nico half expected to be splashed, until it spilled over Will's smooth palms to splatter into the puddle at their feet as he grinned and finished, "I think this is getting out of hand."

"So help me Solace, I will find a way to drown you down here," Nico said fondly.

"You're just mad you didn't think of that joke in time Nico," Magnus chuckled, shaking out his banana yellow umbrella and tucking it underneath his feet like he was sure he was going to need it again.

Jason was humming 'rain, rain, go away,' from under his purple umbrella and watching Thalia with those same deep, trusting blue eyes as when she'd first laughed and sang that song with him on an old, broken toy she'd stolen from a traders show to give to him. Unlike 'normal kids', that's how they'd learned their ABC's and 'twinkle twinkle little start.'

The old man bonking his head had been his favorite part. He was to young to get the joke the rain would never stop for them...only to be proven wrong as the others folded theirs up too. She supposed every storm had to run out of rain eventually.

"Sorry," Thalia sighed all the same.

"Pssh, I've gotten them all ten times more wet than this," Percy reminded.

"Anyways," Alex said loudly while Thalia struggled on whether she should address what Percy just said or not. She would either turn it into a competition or try to make him hear the double meaning and while both would be entertaining, Alex decided he had to be the mature one and finish one catastrophe before starting another.

I should have stabbed him right then. I should've brought the point of Riptide down with all my strength.

Nico resisted the impulse to tell Percy that wouldn't have worked anyway. Luke might have been in a state of in-between, he'd sensed that the closer they'd drawn something was off in that place like a soul that was screaming out and would need help being released.

Riptide wouldn't have done the trick though, not with the Achilles curse already in place to house Kronos's body.

But I was too stunned. I didn't understand. As much as I hated Luke, as much as he had betrayed me, I just didn't get why he was in the coffin, and why he looked so very, very dead.

Jason felt a horrible, sick feeling this is what all of Luke's planning had been leading up to. Some final sacrifice Kronos had needed. Wasn't it supposed to be some child of the big three to bring Kronos back? Wasn't that what this was all about? Had Luke thought he'd be good enough and his death was in vain? It was a sad, yet horribly fitting ending to the guy that had started all of this.

Then the voices of the telekhines were right behind me.

"What has happened!" one of the demons screamed when he saw the lid. I stumbled away from the dais, forgetting that I was invisible, and hid behind a column as they approached.

Magnus and Alex exchanged a whole conversation with just one look. They did not like Luke, and whatever was happening in this Greek story was well beyond them to understand.

What they did hear was the mental rant Percy was giving himself over there about losing his chance and how they were going to hear that verbally with extra effects later if this didn't end well, which had never been likely from the start.

"Careful!" the other demon warned. "Perhaps he stirs. We must present the gifts now. Immediately!"

"Swords in bed, they'll replace breakfast, love, and healthcare in no time with that method," Will said dully. This was just a horrible place to imagine from every angle and between that, and actually getting some rain in this dingy place with still not a hint of sunshine in sight was seriously starting to depress him. He longed for the natural world again more every chapter.

The two telekhines shuffled forward and knelt, holding up the scythe on its wrapping cloth. "My lord," one said. "Your symbol of power is remade."

Silence. Nothing happened in the coffin.

"That was not an impressive enough speech to get anyone to wake up," Alex scoffed. "They should try it with coffee and donuts."

"Will did just establish they think their idea is better and I don't think even you could change their mind," Magnus shrugged.

"You fool," the other telekhine muttered. "He requires the half-blood first."

Ethan stepped back. "Whoa, what do you mean, he requires me?"

Alex made a really suggestive, double-clicking sound with his mouth that made them all groan in disgust and Jason threw a bit of his beanbag at him.

"I'm sorry for putting us in the gutter but I'm electing we don't stay there," Thalia's voice was hoarse with stress. To anyone not paying attention she just hadn't thought the joke was funny and was still taking this in stride.

Alex was not one of those people and bobbed his head once in apology, mock zipping his mouth shut as he continued reading.

"Don't be a coward!" the first telekhine hissed. "He does not require your death. Only your allegiance. Pledge him your service. Renounce the gods. That is all."

"No!" I yelled. It was a stupid thing to do,

"True, but ramming a bus into the side of a tunnel is still your top impulse moment," Jason promised.

"If saving this guy's life the first time didn't convince him you knew more than these monsters I don't think shouting in his face will," Magnus agreed.

"I never shouted in his face?" Will mock grinned in confusion.

Nico pretended to spray a water bottle in his face, "bad joke, bad!"

Will laughed in delight and swatted real water still dripping from his hair, which got the most mild of chuckles out of everybody else in the room.

but I charged into the room and took off the cap.

"Annabeth's going to be so pissed at you for revealing her secret weapon, waving it around like that," Thalia managed some attempt at her usual tone.

"She can't do any worse to me?" But Percy somehow managed to phrase that as a question anyway.

"Ethan, don't!"

"Trespasser!" The telekhines bared their seal teeth. "The master will deal with you soon enough. Hurry, boy!"

"Ethan," I pleaded, "don't listen to them. Help me destroy it."

Ethan turned toward me, his eye patch blending in with the shadows on his face. His expression was something like pity. "I told you not to spare me, Percy. 'An eye for an eye.' You ever hear that saying? I learned what it means the hard way—when I discovered my godly parent. I'm the child of Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge. And this is what I was made to do."

"Could a goddess have a child that could have revenge against her? That sounds redundant," Magnus frowned.

"As Luke himself has proven, we're not hard-wired to use our powers for our parents unconditionally," Nico frowned. He still felt like he hadn't found a balance between defining himself and who his dad was.

He turned toward the dais. "I renounce the gods! What have they ever done for me? I will see them destroyed. I will serve Kronos."

The building rumbled. A wisp of blue light rose from the floor at Ethan Nakamura's feet. It drifted toward the coffin and began to shimmer, like a cloud of pure energy. Then it descended on the sarcophagus.

Each time a half-blood joins us, the Olympians grow weaker and we grow stronger. He grows stronger." Luke pointed to the gold sarcophagus... Luke himself had promised this was exactly what was happening. Not one of them had wanted to see it in action, here in as vivid a detail what a few words could do. If only Alex had the power to kill a whole word, he knew which he'd start with right now.

Luke sat bolt upright. His eyes opened, and they were no longer blue.

They were golden, the same color as the coffin. The hole in his chest was gone. He was complete. He leaped out of the coffin with ease, and where his feet touched the floor, the marble froze like craters of ice.

Thalia pressed her hand to her mouth. She didn't know what she was holding in, a scream, a gasp, a sob. It didn't matter. It was staying where it was.

He looked at Ethan and the telekhines with those horrible golden eyes, as if he were a newborn baby, not sure what he was seeing. Then he looked at me, and a smile of recognition crept across his mouth.

"This body has been well prepared." His voice was like a razor blade running over my skin. It was Luke's, but not Luke's. Underneath his voice was another, more horrible sound—an ancient, cold sound like metal scraping against rock.

Percy had always heard those voices together side by side from one of his very first dreams. It still didn't prepare him to hear them as intrinsically tied together as Backbiter now was.

"Don't you think so, Percy Jackson?"

I couldn't move. I couldn't answer.

Kronos threw back his head and laughed. The scar on his face rippled.

"Luke feared you," the Titan's voice said. "His jealously and hatred have been powerful tools. It has kept him obedient. For that I thank you."

"He's not welcome," Percy managed through gritted teeth. He could feel that guinea pig in him once more squeaking in terror and telling him to run, but he easily overrode it with anger at Luke for doing this to himself. One swipe, that's all he needed, one chance with his sword before this could possibly somehow still get worse.

Ethan collapsed in terror. He covered his face with his hands.

There was no mocking to be had, no superior laughs for the comeuppance of his words. This was something no mortal should ever have to lay eyes on.

The telekhines trembled, holding up the scythe.

Finally I found my nerve. I lunged at the thing that used to be Luke, thrusting my blade straight at his chest, but his skin deflected the blow like he was made of pure steel. He looked at me with amusement. Then he flicked his hand, and I flew across the room.

Another tear traced down Thalia's cheek, and she hated herself for that. Her nails were digging into the side of her cheek and she did not unclench any part of herself, sitting still as a tree once more as if a once cursed slumber would help the pain of this all go in easier.

I slammed against a pillar. I struggled to my feet, blinking the stars out of my eyes, but Kronos had already grasped the handle of his scythe.

"Ah...much better," he said. "Backbiter, Luke called it. An appropriate name. Now that it is re-forged completely, it shall indeed bite back."

"What have you done to Luke?" I groaned.

Kronos raised his scythe. "He serves me with his whole being, as I require. The difference is, he feared you, Percy Jackson.

"He hid that well," Jason frowned. He didn't think Luke left his secret diary lying around for notes over that, but he would have liked to hear it from the horse's mouth. Jealousy, hatred, superiority could all easily be applied to Luke, but fear?

Then Jason's eyes flickered to Thalia, and he realized Luke was afraid of exactly what happened, what Thalia herself had once feared of Percy. That he would take away those most important to him. Kronos probably kept feeding the worst of this to delude Luke long enough he never realized he'd done that to himself as Luke's once best friend stayed frozen with this pain.

He wanted to do something for her, anything. He would have stolen Zeus's thunderbolt to smite this hybrid monster, he wanted to smack Percy for dragging her back in here.

All any of them could do was just get through it.

I do not."

That's when I ran.

"Character continuity," Nico gave him a big thumbs up. Percy would have assumed he was being mocked if Nico didn't look him right in the eye with sincerity. "It's like Echidna all over again."

"I've grown some over the years," Percy grinned, "I know how to pronounce Charon now."

"We all go at our own pace," Nico nodded along.

There wasn't even any thought to it. No debate in my mind about—gee, should I stand up to him and try to fight again? Nope, I simply ran.

But my feet felt like lead. Time slowed down around me, like the world was turning to Jell-O. I'd had this feeling once before, and I knew it was the power of Kronos. His presence was so strong it could bend time itself.

"Run, little hero," he laughed. "Run!"

Percy shivered, he still remembered the feeling like his blood was infected with ice. There had been no source of water, nothing he could have done. He studied his shaking fingers that hadn't even drawn his sword on instinct in here, that's how futile he knew this was. Why wasn't he dead? Of all the times he'd asked himself that, it really didn't seem like there was an answer this time-

I glanced back and saw him approaching leisurely, swinging his scythe as if he were enjoying the feel of having it in his hands again. No weapon in the world could stop him. No amount of celestial bronze.

He was ten feet away when I heard, "PERCY!"

Rachel's voice.

"What, took, you, so, long," Will swatted Nico's shoulder with every word, sadly the only available person here he could harangue for this. "Every one of you is a disobedient protective nutjob! How did Percy even make it five steps without you guys coming to save his bacon!" He was still smacking him on the shoulder with a pretty steady rhythm too.

It was light, and playful, like a kitten batting at him. Nico smiled at the casual contact and shrugged, which didn't dislodge Will's beat. "Annabeth told us to wait there, Rachel said she was coming, and I followed. It took, um, maybe sixty seconds, but it was a long tunnel and when we saw the telekhines we didn't have our own invisibility hat so we had to move slow."

Will huffed and crossed his arms, muttering about the lot of them all about to give him a heart attack.

Something flew past me, and a blue plastic hairbrush hit Kronos in the eye.

"Ow!" he yelled. For a moment it was only Luke's voice, full of surprise and pain.

Thalia couldn't stop the noise that escaped her. An eerily similar yelp of pain like it had echoed through time right to her. That this one moment couldn't have lasted forever. That was all that needed to be done to knock some sense back into him.

How awful did that make her? That she'd rather he be frozen in pain like that in his own body forever than possessed and disintegrated from the inside out as this thing took him over?

"Sorry Thalia," Percy couldn't help but whisper, moving to gently put his arm over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. Me too." she whispered, eyes on the floor even as she gave his wrist a squeeze. Being sorry didn't make it feel better.

My limbs were freed and I ran straight into Rachel, Nico, and Annabeth, who were standing in the entry hall, their eyes filled with dismay.

"Luke?" Annabeth called. "What—"

I grabbed her by the shirt and hauled her after me.

Percy's hand grasped at nothing in here, as usual, though his feet twitched and the cold still felt like it was seeping in. The orange of her shirt had looked faded, the black letters peeling. She'd gotten a new one yesterday before they left camp. The gray in her hair had stood out more than ever, her face ghastly pale like being in Luke's mere presence had been aging her faster than them all.

Had Luke/ Kronos seen her and caused a second's more hesitation? Would it have been enough to draw them apart if they'd forced them back into that sarcophagus?

She'd saved his life in that arena with the tip about Gaia, now he returned the favor by saving her from Luke. It had to be that simple. Even if she did hate him for dragging her away kicking and screaming, he really didn't care. Like the sirens all over again, he'd always save her from herself.

I ran as fast as I've ever run, straight out of the fortress. We were almost back to the Labyrinth entrance when I heard the loudest bellow in the world—the voice of Kronos, coming back into control. "AFTER THEM!"

It hadn't been about impressing Percy, as Nico had sneered and a spark of anger always easily at the surface of his mind caught to life at that moment. It had been pure obstinance of being hunted down that had made him lash out with a power he'd never known to touch before.

"No!" Nico yelled. He clapped his hands together, and a jagged spire of rock the size of an eighteen-wheeler erupted from the ground right in front of the fortress. The tremor it caused was so powerful the front columns of the building came crashing down. I heard muffled screams from the telekhines inside. Dust billowed everywhere.

We plunged into the Labyrinth and kept running, the howl of the Titan lord shaking the entire world behind us.

It wasn't until Alex had finished and silently got up to hand the book to Percy, only to sign to Magnus in very choppy and slow words as he sat back down, 'I need your help to plan the best hairbrush-themed party for Rachel' did he realize he'd gone silent and his eyes were swimming with tears of laughter. Showing anything of the sort would have made Thalia really start crying for a wholly other reason though.

He nodded and smiled back, thinking how lucky he was to have landed in here with these guys as Thalia coughed and snapped at Percy to get a move on, her voice frostier than the South Pole.

Percy of course did so without comment or question, pulling his arm away and giving Thalia the space she needed.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

No, they did not stop and laugh about Rachel hitting a Titan with a blue hairbrush. Thalia was in pain over this and there will be respectful silence for their fellow person during that.

They will, however, laugh their ass off in the next chapter along with Percy when there's been a little time to cool. Don't worry, you'll all get your chuckles while I have my emotional constipation about Thalia finally relieved.

*The one and only detail that bothered me about Chalice of the Gods. Percy's worn her hat plenty of times before and never felt an itchy sensation. My headcannon for this change is that Athena did this as a reminder of Annabeth's hubris in the hopes it would save her daughter from her fatal flaw in the future, even if it took a while to kick in when she got it back in The Staff of Serapis. Otherwise, I can't get enough of psychoanalyzing how far their relationship has come from these books to that.

**If you're curious about the song I imagine Thalia was listening to during that scene, it's Downfall by Trust Company.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #nico di angelo #Will Solace #Alex Fierro #Magnus Chase #percabeth #fierrochase #solangelo

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ilovedthestars · 6 months

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*puts on a different costume* trick or treat!!!

hello, mysterious new stranger! have a treat!

this was the original concept that i wrote down for this wip, which is creatively titled "gurathin"

[what if: that “i had nowhere else to go” trope, except mb is like “i’m turning to my worst enemy…” and gurathin is like “wtf i’m not your worst enemy get inside i’m calling an ambulance”]

i don't remember why i had that thought but it was funny and then i started writing it and it was still funny but also Dramatic. it's like, pretty close to complete, except i never figured out why Murderbot would have gotten stabbed on Preservation Station for reasons that didn't involve everyone on the station being VERY aware that it had happened, and obviously gurathin was gonna ask about that and i didn't have an answer. anyway. enjoy.

---

It’s late, and Gurathin has been sitting in this chair with a book open in his lap for a few hours now. He’s just thinking that it’s really probably time to go to sleep, as soon as he finishes the next few pages, when he’s interrupted by the gentle ping of a feed message reaching his augment. SecUnit: Can I come in He frowns, and glances towards the door to his apartment, although he’s in his bedroom and there are a few walls in the way. He knows SecUnit doesn’t need the rest period that most of the station is taking right now, but it usually spends this time in its own room, watching serials in its head or whatever else it does to keep busy. The fact that it’s out and about could mean nothing, but nonetheless, it’s…worrying. Gurathin: Are you outside? It’s the middle of the night. SecUnit: I know SecUnit: I don’t want to wake Mensah up SecUnit: But I kind of need help He drops his book onto the chair behind him without marking his place. Gurathin: I’m coming. When he pulls open the door to his apartment, SecUnit is outside, leaning against the corridor wall. Not casually—more like it needs the support if it’s going to stay on its feet. It has one hand bracing it upright and the other pressed to its side. There’s something on the side of its face that looks like blood. “Did you murder someone?” Gurathin says, and then sees the dark drops on the floor and the dark wet sheen on its hands and its shirt where it’s holding its side. “For the love of—What the fuck happened? Get inside.” It tries to push itself away from the wall, and sways. Gurathin grabs its elbow and steers it through his door. It collapses against the wall again as soon as it’s inside. There’s a glazed look in its eyes, and its mouth is pressed tightly shut. Gurathin shuts the door. “I can’t fucking believe—Why aren’t you in Medical?” Did it actually murder someone? He can’t imagine why it would come to him, unless it’s trying to hide. “Not that bad….” SecUnit mumbles. It’s dripping a terrifying quantity of blood on his floor. He is not buying its insistence that this is okay. “What’s your performance reliability?” Its lips twitch, and he wonders if it just suppressed an automatic canned response. “Fine,” it says. That is not a good sign. “What is it?” he insists. It hesitates. “Seventy…” It sees his face, and reluctantly corrects itself. “Sixty-eight.”

#ask game answers #stars wips #gurathin wip #that's such a bad title i have like three other gurathin fics #sorry it cuts off in a weird place that's just where it starts falling apart into fragments that i haven't edited together yet #cw blood #murderbot and gurathin's relationship is genuinely hilarious to me #like it's also really sweet #they're friends when it counts #but they also snipe at each other so much and it's so funny to write sometimes

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bzedan · 2 months

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[ID: An edit of the Parmigianino painting Cupid Making His Bow, showing a figure from the back, mid-buttcrack up, leaning over, braced against an unfinished bow. They are looking over their shoulder and have the head and tail of Garfield in cartoony contrast to the late Renaissance painting style of the body and wings. The figure is also Garfield orange. A script tattoo on one buttcheeck reads "February 2024." /end ID]

Listen, last year I did two hours and twenty-eight minutes and when I hit two hours and fourteen minutes this year I was like "whatever, print it." Also I liked how they hung together and some life stuff kind of meant that what I needed was a very loopable couple hours, not a curated several hours. I think every time I hear a Donavan song I go "this is my favourite" but it's more like "this is my favourite right now." More love and relationship type songs because you can't get away from that in music tbh, but also it's a fun thing to theme around.

Related media to some of the songs:

"Oh Snap" has some muddy origins, like any phrase. Wild in this article to see that as of this 2009 article it had worn its ironic welcome.

'Heartbeat' by Riggs is from Heavy Metal (1981), well not *from* the movie, but was in the movie, which is so specifically of its genre and era and also so specifically for me, who ended up with a sizable Loc-Nar tattoo. I think you can gauge pretty quick if a deeply '80s metal animated movie is for you and it conveniently is available on Archive.

It was a wet month here, hence all the rain songs, I hate linking to Insta, but latimes.404 had a nice little rundown of stats. The 1933 record mentioned is why we have such monster flood abatement where we live. I can’t remember which Raymond Chandler story it is but one scene takes place in a house that had been swept down a hill by a community ruining flood and THATS the record mentioned in the video. That’s why every four way stop is crossed with gutters that bottom out your car.

Bump of Chicken! 'Sleep Walking Orchestra' slaps. I am a Delicious In Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi fan (vol 13 and 14 on preorder, bb!), it's as specific as Heavy Metal, so I guess decide if you want a cooking manga/anime that is also very intense, and monster-nerdy. (and also kind of horny). Anyway, the official video is a more all-ages delight.

Anyway here's a link to February's playlist on Spotify, with the track list below the cut.

And embedded, if you like that:

'Sometimes' - Nick Lutsko

'There's No Love in February' - The Orion Experience

'Riki Tiki Tavi' - Donovan

'For What It's Worth' - Buffalo Springfield

'Downtown' - Petula Clark

'Braveheart - Original Mix' - DJ Sammy

'Magnify' - Real McCoy

'Everybodies Girl' - Dwarves

'Wildflowers' - Tom Petty

'Lost Souls/Eelings' - TR/ST

'Nightmare' - Dead On A Sunday

'Boy Problems' - Carly Rae Jepsen

'Gotta Get Up' - Harry Nilsson

'One Night/All Night' - Justice

'Brand New Key' - Melanie

'Crockett's Theme' - Jan Hammer

'Baby I'm Burnin' - Disco Mix' - Dolly Parton

'No One Dies From Love' - Tove Lo

'Just a Friend' - Biz Markie

'Cupid' - Sam Cooke

'Angela's Theme ("You're Just What I've Been Looking For")' - ET TU'

'So This Is Love - From "Cinderella"' - Ilene Woods

'If You Should Try To Kiss Her' - Dressy Bessy

'Horizon' - 1991

'Selfish Soul' - Sudan Archives

'What's Love (feat. MUNA)' - Empress Of

'The Beat Goes On' - Sonny & Cher

'Slow Ride' - Foghat

'Walking In The Rain' - Grace Jones

'Heartbeat - Soundtrack Version' - Riggs

'No Matter What - Remastered 2010' - Badfinger

'Raindrop' - Tripping Daisy

'It Never Rains in Southern California' - Albert Hammond

'Your Heart Is A Muscle' - Carly Rae Jepsen

'A Central Rain Melody' - Bart Graft

'Sleep Walking Orchestra' - BUMP OF CHICKEN

'Novocaine For The Soul' - Eels

'Parasites' - Ugly Casanova

'Haunted House' - Sir Babygirl

#meche makes playlists #playlist #Spotify

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why-so-serious-lucifer · 5 months

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K-pop Discography Deep Dives: TXT

A Disclaimer: I was planning, when I first started Tumblr, to be a lurker, but then I began an office job and needed something to listen to to keep myself occupied. And then, I started going through entire K-pop groups’ repertoires, album by album, and jotting down my thoughts. And then, I stumbled into K-pop tumblr and decided, you know what, there’s at least four people on this hell site who would read in depth rants about these discographies and at least five who wouldn’t read it and then get mad because it’s kind of our job as K-pop fans. My lukewarm takes should be taken with an entire silo of salt and the knowledge that this is completely for fun and occupying my very bored, very neurodivergent brain. All this to say, for the love of god, I’m a sleep-deprived student and I don’t have time for internet hate, so don’t kill me. With that being said, enjoy!

Here are my credentials: yeah…none. I think the amount of TXT songs I know can be counted on one hand, and besides one, they’re all singles. But like with BTS, I’ve been a K-pop fan for four years and I figured that it was about time I make an effort to give them a try. It’s funny; I feel like with every girl group I cover I’m like “well obviously it was July 2017 because Joy had red hair” and with every boy group I’m like “um…are there seven or eight of them again?”

But I digress. TXT was formed in 2019, by Big Hit Entertainment, with five members (and yes, it’s five, I googled it, I promise), Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Heuning Kai, Soobin, and Taehyun, and they’ve been pretty popular since then, which is an achievement in and of itself, coming from an agency best known for the biggest boy group of all time.

They debuted with double title tracks, the first of which was Crown. With the somewhat moodier image they have now, I didn’t expect to think their debut so adorable, but that’s definitely the word I’d use. Despite them being a 4th generation group, the way this is shot, the bright colors, and the comic book drawings remind me very much of late 2nd, early 3rd gen, which hey, I’m not complaining. The song, fittingly, is upbeat and bubbly, very much pop with some synthy influence. Overall, I liked it, as a 2nd and 3rd fan, but something about it doesn’t leave that much of an impact on me. Maybe it’s that I’m not the biggest fan of very young-sounding music, and this is a little too reminiscent of Chewing Gum by NCT Dream for my liking.

Cat + Dog is also from this first EP, and basically all of the comments I had for Crown repeat here, though I did like Crown more. I know that this is more me than the song, but something about this one just…creeped me out?, in a way that Crown didn’t. I know that they were young when this came out (between 16 and 19), but they’re acting like they’re 10 and it’s a bit unnerving. From the EP The Dream Chapter: Star, I liked the calmer but still poppy beat of Our Summer, though I wish it was a little slower to stand out from the other songs in the album more.

Run Away is a song I’d already heard from TXT, but I like it more in the context of their work thus far. It’s still pop, still full of that youthful energy and hope, but leans into an ethereal and nostalgic feeling, and overall feels a lot more suited to them as older teenagers. It has some good humor, and both its Harry Potter references and its message of running away from the monotony and cruelty of the real world with your friends turns it into something universal.

From The Dream Chapter: Magic, I enjoyed the odd percussion and the melodic chanting in New Rules, the gentle vocals in Magic Island, and the sweet love story between childhood friends in 20 CM. My favorite was probably Can’t We Just Leave The Monster Alive, for the interesting trope deconstruction and its encouragement of taking your own path in life.

Can’t You See Me starts with some interesting almost-stop-motion in its ruffling pages, and I couldn’t decide where I thought it was going to go. At first, it combines both the young love idea of Crown and the themes of magic and isolation from the world from Run, which work pretty well, but it soon devolves into something resembling a cry for help with its unusual structure and odd vocal fry segways. It leans very into ethereal, while speaking about the dark side of a friendship gone bad. It took me a couple listens to make up my mind, but I do like this one.

From The Dream Chapter: Eternity, I had two standouts in Fairy of Shampoo and Maze In The Mirror. Fairy of Shampoo (despite the odd name) feels a bit like floating with its citypop synth and jazzy background, and I wish it’d been promoted as a special single instead of Puma. Maze In The Mirror is another song here that was written by the members themselves about their time as trainees, the difficulties they faced, and their friendship. As I’ve said before, some of my favorite songs in k-pop are this kind of acoustic, genuine b-sides that convey such honest emotions, so of course I loved this one.

Blue Hour’s very calm vocalizing and acoustics caught me off guard before the synths I was expecting came in, and I found myself nodding my head. Like with Run, I appreciated the brightness and humor here much more than I did in the first couple of songs because I thought it was better balanced here without overdoing it on the aegyo. It’s not a world-changing song, but I did have a good time with it and it made me laugh a few times (especially with that cowboy hat because what on earth were they thinking).

Minisode 1: Blue Hour reminds me a lot of BTS’ ON album, down to having a song about COVID (in this case the aptly titled We Lost The Summer), which I can’t bring myself to actually critique because of how sweet it is, though in the year of the whoever 2023 I wince to remember 2020. Besides it, I loved the airy vocals and video game esque synthy production on Ghosting and the anthemic chorus in Wishlist.

0X1=Lovesong was another song I had already heard of TXT’s, because I happen to be a fan of Seori, who’s featured on this track, and I have to say that my biggest gripe with the track is that she’s just not featured enough, but that’s really the only criticism I have of this one. I confess that I love this song, and it was actually the reason I wanted to do this review. Remember how I called Wishlist anthemic? Well, clearly I don’t know the meaning of the word, or didn’t until I heard this song. It takes TXT’s youthful energy and pairs it with a full on alt-rock ballad. It feels like a follow-up to Run with its immaculate roadtrip energy, and though the verses are a bit slow, that chorus is just a knockout and just makes me want to be a kid again, grab my best friend’s hand, and run for the goddamn hills. Probably won’t be lighting a car on fire, though, sorry.

Far be it from me to dissuade from some extra drama, but LO$ER=LOVER…well, it’s giving full on “when I was…a young boy…my father took me into the city…”. No but really, I want to think that this level of ridiculousness is some kind of intentional My Chemical Romance parody, because it’s honestly hilarious. It has some of that anthemic quality that I so loved in Lovesong, but that great build-up in the front half of the chorus is just undercut by a lack of payoff and the abject silliness that is “I’m a loser, I’m a loser, lover with a dollar sign is a loser.” I think that I would like this more if I was sure that the joke is intentional, but I’m honestly not sure that it is. Either way, they’re clearly having a lot of fun with this, so it’s tough to dislike.

From The Chaos Chapter: Fight or Escape, I have a lot to talk about, since it’s such a long album. Firstly, I already knew the chorus of Anti-Romantic due to its popularity, but I liked it more in context with the rest of the song. No Rules (which I assume is a follow-up to New Rules) has a great beat and in my humble opinion, there’s never enough disco. MOA Diary, a song for their fans, is very sweet and I can totally see it being a crowd favorite at a concert; I loved the harmonizing. Dear Sputnik was probably my favorite though; it’s another song written by one of the members and has an excellent alt-rock drive that totally should’ve made it be the single instead of LO$ER=LOVER.

Good Boy Gone Bad had me wincing before it even began, because the title already hints towards more non-self aware drama. And it turns out my instincts were right, because while LO$ER=LOVER is so ridiculous it’s basically camp, Good Boy Gone Bad just had me rolling my eyes and wondering not why the good boy had in fact gone bad but why I had to hear about it. Also why Yeonjun was driving a motorcycle in a faux fur coat, but that’s a story for another time.

From the EP Thursday’s Child, which is the second “minisode”, I liked the intro Opening Sequence more than I expected, mostly due to the charisma in their vocals, which really do the heavy lifting in such a minimalistic song. I also enjoyed Trust Fund Baby (give it a chance, I know the title doesn’t inspire confidence), again due to the strength of their vocals and the emotion they carry, when singing a song about a relationship that’s ended due to poverty. This is overall a very melancholy EP, a sharp contrast to Blue Hour’s optimism. Even the more synthy Thursday’s Child Has Far To Go isn’t totally upbeat, but as an album closer, it does hold a little hope that things won’t always be bleak and ended up being my favorite.

Sugar Rush Ride is, thankfully, a return to the synthy, ethereal, upbeat sound that has become TXT’s signature for its verses and pre-choruses, but for some reason opts for a very simple whistling hook and an incredibly jarring anti-drop chorus instead of resolving its great build-up. The bridge, likewise, feels harsh in what’s otherwise a calm song, and honestly, I find this song more disappointing than I would if it used a style I hate throughout, because I really enjoy the greater part of it…but I just can’t get past that chorus.

From The Name Chapter: Temptation, there’s three b-sides I want to talk about. Devil By The Window is a fully English song, which normally I would complain about, as I often do. But this one’s actually really good; it’s tense, attention-grabbing, and has a very taut arrangement. Also, this is probably me reading too much into it, but the chorus is giving me such queer energy (“I met the devil by the window, traded my life, temptation touched my tongue, spread the wings of desire. He’s whispering ‘give up, don’t you put up a fight.’”). But…c’mon guys, maybe I’ve missed something, but last time I checked straight people don’t get seduced by random devils of the same gender standing near their window, but hey, how should I know?

Besides that, I also liked the acoustic guitar in the pop-rock Farewell, Neverland and the chill vocals here as they sing goodbye both to a childhood lover and to childhood as a whole. Tinnitus (Wanna Be A Rock) pleasantly surprised me with its Afro-pop influences, because it’s not a common pairing in k-pop and I was surprised by how well it works here. Also, apparently some of the members wrote both of these, so kudos!

Do It Like That is an English-language collaboration with the Jonas Brothers, and between its very mainstream pop sound, the English, and its beat, I admit that it gave me war flashbacks to Dynamite. Here is where I invoke my disclaimer of: Dynamite is not a bad song (see my way-too-long BTS review for a whole two paragraphs of thoughts on that), but k-pop doesn’t need to try and replicate it. I know that this is totally down to my own bias, because Do It Like That isn’t a bad song either, but I won’t be returning to whatever concerningly white void they filmed this in anytime soon.

Back For More is another English-language collaboration, this time with Brazilian singer Anitta. I was preparing myself for another paragraph of disclaimers and having to do some overly dramatic sighing, but actually, I liked this! It feels like any other TXT single with its disco influences and catchy beat, just in another language, as it should be. I also appreciate that they collaborated with a Latin pop star, who sings in both English and her own language too, which made it feel less like a cop-out. The first time I heard this one, it was the shortened version that they performed at the VMAs, but the longer version with the bridge really elevates the song and I’m glad I watched it. It’s not my favorite but I’m not going to throw a tantrum if it comes on.

Chasing That Feeling is from their latest comeback just a month or so ago. I was feeling optimistic from the first verse’s beat, although after being burned by Sugar Rush Ride, I was still a bit wary. But, thankfully, Chasing That Feeling does what it predecessors didn’t do: it delivers, with those head-bopping synths, citypop influences, and electronic background. I admit that I wish it had a bit more of a climax and went against the grain, but it’s hard to not be won ever when a song’s chorus starts by saying “I’ve turned my back on heaven” and telling fate “come on and kiss me”.

The Name Chapter: Freefall is another full length album, so I have a lot of highlights. I loved the exploration of a harsher version of rock mixed with metal in the teen angst driven Growing Pain, which their voices were surprisingly suited to. I also enjoyed the vulnerability and slowing rising vocals in Deep Down’s pre-chorus, the acceptance that “life is not a fairytale” but is still worth living in Happily Ever After, and the moody Skipping Stones, which tells the listener not to be too hard on themselves, because what they’re going through will pass. I think that Skipping Stones was also written by the members themselves.

So, I enjoyed this more than I expected! I confess that I did expect something similar to BTS, which is probably unfair given the fact that besides having the same company, they have nothing to do with each other. Calm down, I’m not laminating my stan card just yet. I’m not a MoA, but I think that I could probably consider myself at least a casual fan after this. We’ll see how it goes. Maybe the next comeback will absolutely blow me away.

My Top 5 songs are Lovesong, Run Away, Thursday’s Child Has Far To Go, Dear Sputnik, and Maze In The Mirror, with Skipping Stones as an honorable mention. TXT gets an 8.75 out of 10 from me, which, again, is a surprise for both of us. I do love synth, rock pop, and disco, and I’m excited by the fact that they’ve already written a bunch of songs. Here’s hoping that they keep getting better and they end up getting as much creative freedom as some entirely self-produced groups.

We’ll be covering a girl group next week (that was supposed to be a one parter but accidentally became two posts long, oops), so stay tuned! Tschüss!

#k-pop #review #k-pop deep dive #k pop boy groups #txt #tomorrow x together #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #soobin #heuningkai #chasing that feeling #run away #lovesong #sugar rush ride #can’t you see me #Spotify

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iamsherlocked1479 · 9 months

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A Strange feelng: Prolouge

Descrption: the proluge to a new series im starting! the reader (Emma) joinedthe sourcers when her life crumbled after the blip. She thought she had lost everything until she met him, Doctor Stephen Strange and now my friends she has a strange feelng that everything is going to be better. hopefully he feels the same way.

You don’t know what you’re doing here, you’re supposed to be studying the history of kamar taj yet you find yourself staring at an open portal to the new york sanctum, his sanctum. His words filtered through your head ‘whatever you need I’ll try and get it for you’ you hope that offer extended to emotional support. Someone to tell you you were being stupid and not to quit something just because it’s getting hard. Just like Jasmine had always reminded you. But she wasn’t here anymore, she was gone and so was mum. And that's why you’re here ignoring the way your heart is pounding out your chest, and how you’re sure the bottle of bourbon you have clutched in your hand will break. But you take a step forward, you made it the difficult bit. Now all you have to do is seek emotional comfort from the sourcer whom everyone but you and Wong believes is detached from the rest of the world, gripping what little control he had left of his life, just like you.

The new york sanctum was different from the others, it felt inviting in its own way if you ignore the crumbling ceilings and rickety staircases it was somewhat humble, it felt like a shield for the planet. You heaved yourself up the multiple staircases to the room you knew he’d be sat in. It was raining outside, the soft rumble of thunder humming in the distance not quite becoming a storm but far from calm. You saw his silhouette outlined from the dim light in the window slouched slightly in the chair, the clinking of the ice in his already poured drink being the only sound besides the thunder.

“You shouldn’t sit in the dark, it's bad for your eyes. As a doctor I figured you’d know this.” Your voice started him a little as he turned around.

“Emma,What are you doing here?” He says in a mildly irritated sound.

“I’m sorry you just said if i ever needed anything and i- I brought bourbon.” You tilt up the bottle and his face lightens up a bit

“Is that the good stuff you hide in your room?” He watches as you nod and flicks his finger illuminating the room with candles that had been placed around the room. You then somehow as if by magic end up next to him, his arm chair becoming a sofa big enough for the both of you to sit at a comfortable distance. “So? How can I be of assistance to you?” He says refilling his glass and filling yours.

“I don’t know really, i just got sick of being alone i guess and you’re the only person i can stand being around lately, other than wong but the sorcerer supreme has higher duties than listening to my blabbering mouth.” You take a drink from your glass wincing slightly, it was stronger than you thought.

“And how did you know I'd be awake? It is 3:25 am.” He laughed

“Because you come across as a pretty sleep deprived doctor I must say.”

“Well takes one to know one, really whats wrong?” He moves his arm to rest on the couch cushion his fingers just slightly away from your hair. You pretend to ignore the way his robes tense around his surprisingly muscular arms.

“Its been 8 months, today i mean, since the blip. Which means to me its eight months since i lost her and i just struggle seeing what all of this is.”

“This?” He tilts his head

“Me sat here in these less fashionable robes with Doctor Strange, the wizard who helped save the universe. And me, a vet tech who got let go from her job due to a purple space guy and is now learning how to teleport. It doesn’t make sense.” You choke on the last few words you didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“You really think, I understand all this? I go to bed everyday with a floating cloak at the end of my bed after spending the whole day making sure our reality is correct. But i do it because its what I believe is my purpose.” He stops for a minute watching as a lone tear falls from your eye “you didn’t come here to fix everything, you knew you couldn’t change what happened, and you stayed because you thought you could find your purpose. Don’t give that up.” He looks away at the rain pattering against the domed window. “I had lost everything when I came, I came to fix my hands, but I was taught something, this cost me alot but life is full of sacrifices. Don’t give up because things aren’t always in a straight line.” He turned to you, his eye’s glistening as if he was tearing up.

Those words, they were the same as what jasmine told you, and they were both right, she never gave up, so why should you.

“You know my sister used to tell me that.” You laugh, wiping your eyes.

“From what I hear she sounds like a good person.” His hands graze the loose strands of your hair, he stops when you notice but then finds his hand in your hair again when you don’t object.

“She was great, really. I sometimes struggled to understand how she managed everything. She was the one who told mum to get treatment, even recommend some of your research. The handsome guy with the salt and pepper hair my mum would say.” You blush slightly at the last sentence and are then struck with a mild amount of boldness “personally I’d agree.”

“Well at least we established i'm handsome tonight.” He took a smug drink from his glass

“So why were you up?” You ask

“It's not important.” He shakes his head

“C’mone I won’t tell anyone you have feelings.” You nudge him slightly.

“Fine, well i��ve had something on my mind recently. But im not quite sure how to approach it.” His arm moves from your head to his kneck, he looked nervous.

“Well maybe i can help?” You prop yourself up slightly like a teenager listening to the latest gossip.

“Well I don’t know it's sort of a big thing.” He laughs “there's someone i cant get out of my head and i was wondering if she feels the same but im not sure how to approach the situation.” He looks away again playing with the rim of his glass. Your chest tightens a little at the words of him liking a girl, but at the end of the day it was just a crush and you had to swallow your pride and deal with it.

“Well show her how you feel, its not always the best to wait on theses things.” You pretend to smile pretending like this wasn’t bothering you.

“You really think I should go for it?” He turned to you, with one brow raised and a sheepish grin on his face.

“What's the worst that could happen?” You nod and shuffle slight as you swirl your drink, he cleared his throat and put his drink of the coffee table. You looked at him for a moment and could almost be sure he was looking at your lips. He began to lean in closer, pressing his lips against yours. You weren't expecting it, so you didn’t kiss him back, but you didn’t pull away. Eventually he pulled away with a blush.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me-“

“No no- i just, i just want to test something.” You grabbed his face between your hands and kissed him back, this time he didn’t hesitate he locked you bodies together holding you close allowing his tongue to dance with yours for a moment. You eventually parted allowing yourselves to take a breath

“Huh, how was it?” He asked wiping his mouth

“Pretty good, can I just get a second opinion?” You ask and he nodded, pulling you in again to repeat the process. “Yeah well i have to say, pretty successful move, she liked it.” You blush eventually pulling apart.

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A/N: this si just a prolouge so is very subject to change, I really like doing the reader pov with a character i can mould myself a little this is because im not a huge fan of y/n feel like it doesn't give me the freedom to write and develop my characters. And in regards to Thats not how i'd do it, i will be alternating between chapters when i cannot think of something fo the other so hopefully this allows me to become more active. I'm really excited to see where this goes and hope you are too! <3

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #dr strange x you #dr strange x reader #dr strange smut #dr stephen strange #doctor strange #doctor strange x female reader #marvel fanfic rec #marvel #doctor strange sorcerer supreme

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cartoonsaint · 8 months

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back in 2020 i wrote a werewolf!David fic for Camp Camp and then got through about a quarter of its sequel before getting distracted. at this point it's unlikely i'm ever going to finish it but it sounds like there's at least one person out there who wants to read it, which makes this a good advertisement for leaving comments on seemingly abandoned works, doesn't it? anyways this is 7.8k, probably rated T, and i do not have the wherewithal (werewithal? hohoha) to reread rn so i can't offer any content warnings or fix any weird grammar or anything, but. here's it.

my semi-jokey working title for it was THERE'S ONLY ONE BED AND ALSO ONE OF US IS A WEREWOLF

CHAPTER ONE

Gwen wakes up.

She’s not sure what does it, because usually it takes the blaring of her alarm — as well as a few judicious smacks to the snooze button — for her to admit that the day is starting whether she wants it to or not and she had better drag herself out of bed if she doesn’t want the camp to burn down around her ears.

She’s long since come to terms with the fact that while she can effortlessly stay up late into the night reading fanfiction or binging television, even with a full eight hours under her belt the first thing she’s gonna want to do in the mornings is take a nap. Gwen just really, really isn’t a morning person.

By the grey light filtering through the windows, Gwen bets the sun hasn’t even properly risen yet. She’s not due to muddle her way through her morning routine for at least another hour, and in fact it’s so early that David’s still probably asleep.

That catches at something in her sleep-foggy brain. Had she had another dream about him, maybe? Something about… monsters? Statistically, and given the subject, it was probably a sex dream, but what…?

On a whim she turns over, intending to send her sleeping coworker a baleful glare for daring to have a presence in the confusing subconscious arena of her dreams — it’s not the first time, sure, but she uhhh.

Wolf.

That, uh… wolf.

Gwen stares at the sleeping beast in the room with her, suddenly wide awake, and does her best to regulate her breathing as she simultaneously curses David to hell. This is somehow his fault, she just knows it — leave it to Mr. Nurse-Back-to-Health-the-Wolf-That-Tried-to-Kill-Me to bring a wild animal into the cabin without telling her. Now she’s probably going to get eaten and leave behind all her unedited work and become famous for her talent posthumously instead of midhumously, or whatever, which is how she’d really, really prefer it.

Can wolves smell fear? She’s pretty sure they can, so she thinks happy, not-scared thoughts, like how happy she’ll feel when she throttles David for this. The animal is huge, taking up a sizable portion of her co-counselor’s bed, even though it’s curled up sleeping at the moment. The bed’s wool blanket and sheet are half-covering it, almost like it tried to burrow itself underneath them, and it has David’s stupid plush log between its front paws. It breathes in and out with great, calm gusts of breath, and Gwen thinks about how often wolves need to eat, how fetid its breath probably is, and the fact that she has virtually nothing with which to defend herself besides some trashy magazine she could maybe roll up and use to bonk its nose, like a poorly behaved mutt.

I’m freaking out a little, Gwen realizes, watching the tendrils of first light reach across the room. Knowing her luck, they’ll wake it up. Oh well. I had a good run. Well, an alright run. Well, I definitely had a run, anyway.

She practically holds her breath as the sun creeps in through the windows, sure that any moment might wake the beast and spell her doom. Maybe she’ll be able to miraculously pull David’s guitar out of nowhere and defend herself — but no, too quickly, the barest hint of sunlight touches the thing’s paw, and it gives a great twitch that has Gwen flinching — and then the wolf changes.

She’s not sure what she’s seeing at first. Its muzzle wrinkles as though in a snarl but then shrinks. The pointed ears on its head flatten back and disappear into its dark red fur, which itself seems to be absorbed back into its skin, leaving pale, pinkish flesh behind. Its paws stretch and lengthen into long, calloused, human fingers, and the whimper that comes out of its throat morphs mid-syllable into a distinct, familiar, and absolutely absurd “ouchie.” The figure left half-blanketed on the bed opens ocean green eyes over an upturned pink nose and effortlessly smiles at the new day.

The figure looks an awful lot like David sporting a week’s worth of facial hair.

The figure is David.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Gwen croaks, and David blinks his big green eyes over at Gwen, looking faintly puzzled.

“Gwen? What are you doing awake?” he whispers (only sounding a little raspy, the bastard).

Gwen’s mind is racing, frantically calling up memories from the past two days, belatedly recalling that last night she’d learned without a shadow of a doubt that David — bouncy, clumsy, sunshine-y David, her coworker of too many years and the least brood-over-his-loss-of-humanity guy she’s ever known, that David — was a bonafide werewolf.

He’s still looking at her, apparently wide-awake and ready to be properly concerned about his “CBFL!” despite the fact that no sane person should be awake at this hour. She tries to say something, something intelligent, so that he knows she’s fine and can stop turning the force of his way-too-bright eyes on her.

“Wurwuf,” her stupid mouth manages.

He looks confused, briefly, before a metaphorical lightbulb goes off so obviously that Gwen practically has to squint at its brightness. “Oh yeah! I change back when the sunlight hits me — it hurts, but I hope I wasn’t too loud. Did I wake you up?”

He looks so intensely unhappy at the possibility that Gwen finds herself shaking her head before she can properly process what he said, and he smiles warmly at her. Fortunately it’s not one of his overwhelming ones but instead the softer kind, the kind he wears when he’s had a long day or a camper pleasantly surprises him.

“I’m glad,” he says with one hundred percent honesty, and he sits straight up in bed like it’s easy to get his muscles to work in the morning. “I was a little worried! You should go back to sleep, Gwen. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I dumped a lot on you last night. I’ll take breakfast duty, okay?”

“Mm,” she says, and he gives her another smile — jesus it’s too fucking early for this — and daintily wraps a sheet around his body, heading to the bathroom. She watches him go, humming like it’s any other day, until he closes and latches the door behind him with a snk.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Gwen mentally screams, and bites her fist hard. David’s a werewolf. David is a werewolf. It’s a brand new day and her coworker (and, fine, friend) David is a WEREWOLF who literally transformed in front of her very eyes into a huge, potentially terrifying beast.

She’s going to have so much to write about.

Speaking of, she scrambles out of bed for her notebook and pen. She’d been limited by David’s inability to talk as a wolf, but through yes and no questions and some dubiously successful attempts at charades she’d ended up with a decent number of pages written out about his new condition. It’s a solid start on figuring out what they can expect and how this whole thing works.

Of course, like every normal person, Gwen herself went through a Weird Wolf Girl phase. Though it’s been considerably more than a decade since then, she’s sure she hasn’t forgotten that much about them — and besides, with all the supernatural shapeshifter romances she’s read in the years since then, she’s pretty confident she can fill in any gaps in her knowledge.

She starts drafting questions, both for David and the Quartermaster (who of course has a hook in this, that guy is so freaky). Like: David turns into a four-legged wolf every time moonlight touches him, but is there a way to control when the change happens? Could he stop the change partway through? Is his werewolfism unique, or is there a pack out there somewhere? And are there any single werewolves her age? If so, how would Gwen go about meeting them?

Quietly, Gwen lets out a high-pitched squeal — werewolves are real, and she knows one. It’s too bad it’s David, since that precludes any hot paranormal action on her end, and has precluded any action between them since their first week working together. But maybe he’ll meet some other, more masculine werewolves and he could introduce her?

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Gwen,” she whispers. “Reel it in.”

She spends a brief moment in deep breathing, trying to meditate… and then shrugs it off to bounce excitedly on her bed. Even if this isn’t quite the way she’d imagined it, werewolves! This could be a major change in her life, the kind she’d hoped Graggle would be, the kind she’s been waiting for as long as she can remember.

And who knows — he might still be David, but being a werewolf might make him more interesting, too. She grabs her pillow and muffles a disbelieving, embarrassingly girly squee into it, grinning. She can’t wait to see how things change.

***

In retrospect, maybe Gwen should have expected to be disappointed.

The activity for that day is Rube Goldberg Machines (“Max really enjoyed this one last year, Gwen!!”) and even though, as always, Gwen had told him during last week’s activity-planning session that it was going to be a disaster (“David, it’s going to be a disaster.”), the day is just… regular.

Which isn’t to say it’s not a disaster, but it is a pretty regular one. Harrison and Preston team up against Erid and Nerris to create competing death machines, which results in David stepping into the middle of their feud and getting the crap beaten out of him by mechanically-operated cardboard. Max and his friends are suspiciously quiet in a way that Gwen would be more concerned about if she wasn’t so busy trying to prevent Nurf from incorporating Dolph and Space Kid as living pieces of his machine. Mr. Campbell shows up at some point with an intriguing but useless story about his time in a Russian ballet school and then disappears pretty much as soon as she asks him to help. The Quartermaster is there.

Gwen waits all day, anticipation thrumming through her veins, for David to do something different. Just… one thing that would indicate that he’s secretly a paranormal, shapeshifting, not-quite-human creature. Maybe some supernatural speed, or a snarl at being bashed over the head by their terrible campers. Hell, she’d accept a mysterious, darkly longing look towards the woods. Anything.

But David spends the whole day totally normal, with his usual mix of peppiness, anxiety, and the occasional oh-so-human shriek of pain.

It’s not like Gwen really believed (much less had her heart set on) all those books about the super capable, brooding werewolf leads, but… It’s not easy to reconcile the rugged, snarling, coverboy antiheroes with a twiggy, delicate David who’s too busy trying to put a positive spin on marble-powered rocket launchers to realize his bandana is on fire.

Needless to say, Gwen’s exhausted by the end of the day, and for all his talk David hurries the kids along to bed as well. She leans against a tree, watching him interact with the torturous little shits with near-endless patience even in the light of the rising moon. It’s impressive, given that David wears his heart on his sleeve (along with every other organ he has in his body), but right now his impression of not being twitchy as hell is nearly passable. Even if some of the kids notice, they won’t worry; besides the Problem Trio, none will suspect it’s anything to do with the supernatural.

Also, of course Max, Neil, and Nikki found out about it; Gwen is going to grill Max about that as soon as she gets the chance, and then she’s going to kill David for letting it slip so quickly.

...then again, it’s admittedly something of a miracle that the whole camp doesn’t already know; she might have to let this slide. You should still know better! she thinks loudly, glaring at the back of David’s head as he suffers Nikki using him as a climbing post. He glances back at the same moment, catches her look, and hurriedly starts trying to disentangle the wild kid from his hair.

Gwen winces, then sighs in frustration — she hadn’t actually meant for him to catch that. Great going, Gwen.

Despite the revelations of the past few days, David really does seem just the same: goofy muppet-long limbs, pointy elbows, big smiles papered over a mess of anxiety, enthusiasm, and bad ideas. He’s not even more muscular or anything — though to be fair, he’s always been stronger than he looks. With his wiry muscles, he’s capable of lifting way more than Gwen expects — but the fact remains that he’s always looked delicate.

He’s not, of course — though he cries more easily than most people, it’s usually an emotional rather than physical response. He bounces back from just about any injury, leaping into the next activity with all the grace of a newborn deer. Gwen can admit that it’s somewhat compelling; she can’t help admiring his determination to keep moving forward.

Finally disengaged from Nikki, David puts his hands on his hips, tilting them in the opposite direction of his head. The move puts him on an appealing slant that emphasizes how long and slim he is, the slope of his neck leading into the sharp cut of his shoulders, hidden slightly by his dumb bandana. He fiddles with it now, throwing an uncertain glance her way.

He’d said the freaky magic necklace wasn’t comfortable to wear, and she wonders exactly how: does it intensify things? Is it like holding in a sneeze? After working so closely with him for so long, she’s intimately familiar with his energy levels; it’s not been the kind of day that usually ends in mania or an anxiety attack, but he’s twitchier than usual anyway. Is that related?

Finally taking pity, Gwen steps in. She manages to convince Harrison that the woods aren’t going to come alive while he sleeps (a weird, newly emerged fear she’s keeping a close eye on) and bundles Space Kid in his favorite rocket blanket so that David can devote his attention to Nerris’s pleas to stay up later so they can fight the dark elves together (which honestly seems like the kind of bullshit she should read up on, because that doesn’t sound like the sort of thing an impressionable kid should be absorbing). Together, they get the kids down only twenty minutes past the scheduled time.

David is unmistakably anxious on the way to the Counselors Cabin. When he hesitantly asks, “Am I in trouble?” Gwen can’t help but sigh.

“No, David. I’m just thinking,” she admits. “We need to make sure none of the rest of the kids find out that you’re a werg— a, a werewolf.” She silently curses herself for stumbling over the word again. What’s wrong with her? “Why did you have to let Max know? You must have realized he’d find a way to take advantage of this.”

“We-e-ell…” David starts, avoiding eye contact in a way that compounds Gwen’s fatigue.

“David.”

“I didn’t mean to!! He was just there and the moon was out and he broke the necklace and obviously if I had known I wouldn’t have put him in that situation, but the Quartermaster was being very coy about my being a werewolf so I had no idea what was coming —“

“Wait wait wait,” Gwen interrupts; David shrinks guiltily. “You didn’t know? You mean Max was there the first time you —?” She cuts herself off, brain whirring through his behavior since he got back from his disastrous trip in the woods a few weeks ago. She doesn’t like the conclusion she comes to.

Dreading his answer, she asks, “When was this?”

“Um.” David counts briefly on his fingers, lips pursed in thought. “A-about a week ago?”

“A week?!”

“A, a little less, actually,” he admits, cringing.

Gwen stops walking. “It’s been less than a week.”

Cautiously, he nods, his red hair flopping, and Gwen stares at him. It occurs to her suddenly that David has, hilariously, really been thrown to the wolves here: he doesn’t actually know anything about being a werewolf. His life has just changed, majorly and possibly permanently, and his only guide is the laconic and decidedly unhelpful Quartermaster… and Gwen herself.

“Right,” Gwen manages, and starts walking again. David follows, chattering nervously, but she barely hears him, thinking about what he’d said to her yesterday morning (practically forever ago): that he hadn't wanted to be a burden, but he needed her help.

Where is she even supposed to start?

She watches him throw his arms up to emphasize a point she hasn’t heard and catches sight of how long and delicate his fingers are, even with his summer camp callouses. They’re the same as ever, but somehow that makes Gwen feel like he’s even more fragile than usual, like if she even touched his shoulder he might shatter or maybe even bolt. But if she wants to figure this out properly, she needs more information… so she’s extra careful when she puts forth her next question.

“So you gonna let me watch tonight?” she asks, and then bites her tongue hard because that did not come out like she wanted it to, Gwen what is wrong with you.

Fortunately, the look David sends her is one of innocent surprise, rather than one assuming that she just propositioned him.

“Um, sure!!” he says, voice edging just past bubbly and into manic; he tugs at his bandana, revealing a flash of silver chain. Then, to her horror, a very noticeable flush starts to crawl up the back of his neck — shit, does he think she just propositioned him? “I-it’s just… well, I can’t really afford to ruin any more camp uniforms, s-so, um, I’d have to be —“

“Spit it out, David,” she advises, not completely dickishly.

“—naked, I’d have to be naked,” he blurts out, and pulls his bandana up around his cheeks to hide his embarrassment.

Gwen has to blink at him for a few seconds. Is he seriously that embarrassed about her catching an eyeful when they’ve lived in close quarters this long? And when he’s going to turn into a giant, fuckoff werewolf??

“David. I promise not to look at your dick,” she says, which to her amusement makes him squeak and turn as red as his hair. He flutters a nervous hand at her, glancing around like a camper could appear anywhere — which, to be fair, they could: Gwen has learned not to underestimate the little bastards.

She bumps her shoulder into his, because she’s too awkward to offer comfort in a normal way. “Are you seriously more freaked out about the naked thing than the werewolf thing?”

“It’s not… appropriate,” he hisses, still flushed and harried-looking. “You shouldn’t have to —“

“I don’t have to; I want to. To see you transform, I mean,” she corrects. “Into a wolf. Not to — yeah. But I do want to see the transforming shit again because it was seriously the coolest thing I have ever seen.”

As per usual, David opens the door to the Counselors Cabin and lets Gwen through first, which is why she sees the set-up, recognizes the intended purpose, and is already exhausted and dismayed by its outcome by the time David cheerfully flicks on the lightswitch.

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised, as his action triggers the set of three marbles to start rolling down the halved cardboard tubes that have been taped together into an impressively complicated contraption. The blue marble hits and tips over a precariously balanced jug of water, the yellow one continues to pick up speed as its path steepens, and the mint-green one just barely nudges a piece of cheese into the grubby little hands-reach of a caged squirrel. “Wow,” David says, delighted, while Gwen traces the future paths of the machine and reaches the signs neatly taped to the wall above David’s bed.

“GWEN DON’T INTERFERE. I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SET A FIRE BUT NEIL DIDN’T. MAX.”

“Ooo, great use of weighted pullies,” David says appreciatively, while a baby headache is born right behind Gwen’s eyes.

Next to Max’s note is one with Neil’s precise handwriting. “Sorry for getting carried away but I needed to test my abilities. Neil.”

The squirrel has tugged up the string tied to the key to its cage and is furiously trying to unlock its prison; another domino falls just as the scale overbalances. Gwen’s headache has learned to walk and is joyfully crashing into the walls of her brain.

Nikki’s note (which, for some reason, is dripping with an unknown reddish liquid) says, “it seemed like the best use of our time. also the squirrel needed to know who was boss.”

“That’s such a creative use of a windchime!” David says, proud as anything, as Gwen recognizes an open container of lighter fluid, realizes that the last note is written in Campbell’s chunky scrawl, and her headache throws a screaming teenage tantrum about how unfair its life is.

“IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD CAMP ACTIVITY FOR THE CHILDREN! ALSO THEY BRIBED ME. SORRY! CAMERON C. CAMPBELL.”

“Gwen, look at how they combined their machines here! Oh, I’m so proud, this is such great teamwork,” David coos and then the lighter fluid tips over, the bedspread catches fire, the squirrel frees itself to launch its horrible little rodent body across the room, and Gwen’s headache graduates summa cum laude with a full degree in Fuck You Gwenology.

Even if she hasn’t been through this exact scenario before, Gwen knows how this goes. David’s mattress will be reduced to kindling (an inevitability each summer; honestly, she’s a little proud of how long it lasted this year), David will shriek as the squirrel makes claw-contact with his face, and Gwen will calmly murder every person responsible for ensuring she has more work to do before she can goddamn relax. She’s already heading towards the fire extinguisher when David surprises her.

Instead of getting a faceful of furious-slash-terrified squirrel and screeching his fool head off, David whips a hand out faster than Gwen can follow and snags the thing out of the air. She hardly notices, though, distracted as she is by the sudden, ferocious snarl that transforms David’s face, revealing a set of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs that make him look a whole lot more… monstrous.

Oh, fuck, Gwen thinks, frozen to the spot.

The squirrel squeals, panicked, and David’s growling cuts off abruptly with a sharp little gasp. He loosens his grip enough that the animal can scramble out of his hands and out the swinging screen door, not even bothering to scold them on the way out. David automatically tracks its movements, his green eyes flashing and shoulders tense.

Thwack, goes the cabin door. Gwen stares at David, who himself stares at where the squirrel had disappeared, before a full-body shudder goes through him and he wraps his arms around his middle.

“S-sorry,” he says, voice small. Gwen blinks at that, still a bit dazed, but he keeps his eyes down. “I didn’t mean — I mean, I just —“ He hunches into himself, making himself even smaller.

Realization sparks in Gwen — he feels shitty about this, I should do something — and then David takes a sudden, deep breath, filling his lungs and straightening to his full height. His shoulders are still tense but he’s forced them down, like he’s relaxed, and when he smiles at her it’s practically normal.

But Gwen knows David, and she knows his smiles, and this one is bad: her eyes rove over his face, cataloguing the tension in his brow, the slight tremble of his upper lip, how few teeth he’s actually showing. “David,” she starts, uncertain what she’s going to say.

“It’s okay!” he assures her, voice bright and tight, flapping an insistent hand in dismissal. “I was just — that, um, startled me, is all. I didn’t mean to — to… is something burning?”

Gwen turns so fast she gives herself whiplash. “Oh fuck, the bed!!”

“O-oh — !”

These days she’s old hat at putting out fires, but the lighter fluid and the relatively extended burn time mean that even after Gwen empties a full fire extinguisher, it’s quite clear that the mattress isn’t the only thing sacrificed to the blaze.

“My bed,” David says weakly. The headboard has collapsed into the slats of the bed frame, which are themselves burned through, and its legs are heavily charred; it looks like it might fall apart in a stiff breeze, leaving behind just a pile of ashes. “W-well, we could —“

“The extra camper cots won’t hold an adult’s weight,” Gwen points out numbly. Do they still have — ?

“And Mr. Campbell took the last bedframe from storage when he moved in,” David notes, and Gwen adds another thing to her mental “Reasons to Kill Cameron Campbell” list. “Good thing I —“

“No, Max traded your sleeping bag to the Wood Scouts to get them to take Jermy back,” Gwen reminds him, pinching the bridge of her nose. Quartermaster probably has more supplies, but he’s left for the night to do… Quartermaster things, and Gwen doesn’t actually know how to contact him until the morning.

“Right,” David sighs. “But the hammock — ?”

“Could you even use it when you’ve got —“ she claws at the air, giving him a faux snarl, which immediately makes her feel like a huge, stupid asshole, but she perseveres — “you know, four legs?”

With each back and forth, David sinks down a little more — but at that last one he perks up a bit. “Oh! Gwen, I’ll be a wolf. I don't need a bed, I’ll just sleep outside!”

“David,” Gwen begins, already prepared to try to make him see reason, but then she actually catches sight of his expression and pauses, considering.

Because David isn’t looking at her. His eyes dart from the remains of his bed to her desk to the bathroom door to the open window, whereupon he flinches and looks anywhere else til he’s inevitably drawn back to it. His hands are clasped in front of him like he’s pleased, but Gwen can see them trembling. “Plus, I feel like — I think there’s something different in the air, and I just want to check it out, make sure everything’s okay. And Harrison was so nervous at bedtime — I should probably check on him. And the Quartermaster probably needs help setting things up, so…”

He wants to get away, Gwen realizes. His reaction to the squirrel was different than he’s used to and it scared him. He needs to process it alone.

“Fine,” Gwen blurts out, and David shuts his mouth, eyebrows dipping in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Go. We don’t have to — You can show me the transformation another night. I’ll take care of the bed and any kids who come calling. If you need — some time, or some space, David, then go get it.” She has to mentally scream at herself to do it, but she raises a pretty convincingly casual hand to pat his shoulder. “I’ll take care of things here. You go do what you need, okay?”

He looks uncertain, but he does lean into her touch. Gwen fights to keep her face normal. “Gwen, are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone with everything again…”

“It’s fine, David,” she says, and finds that she means it. He asked her for her help, and if this is what it takes, well. “Go. Run around, burn off some energy, do what you need. I’ll cover you.”

He bites his lip, incidentally flashing those sharp teeth. Gwen determinedly keeps her eyes on his. “If you’re sure it’s okay…”

“I am. Go do your thing, David.”

The tense worry on his face melts away, and when he smiles at her it’s easy. “Thanks, Gwen,” he says, and before she can react he wraps his arms around her in a firm hug.

Gwen tries not to freeze up or anything, but she’s so awkward — she ends up patting his shoulder again (like an idiot) until he finally loosens his warm grip and steps away to open the cabin door. He aims one last grateful smile at her; it practically lights up the whole room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Gwen. Thanks again.”

“Yee-up,” she says, and gives him a thumbs-up until the screendoor thwacks shut behind him.

She stands there for a long moment, listening to his footsteps fade away. Then, when she’s sure he’s gone, she numbly reaches for her pillow. She presses her face into it and takes a couple deep breaths.

Then she screams, because she has to clean up the remains of the burned bed and figure out how this werewolf thing works for David and make sure the camp keeps running and now she’s going to have to do all that with the awareness that David might be hot now.

He’s not allowed to be. Their whole thing works because he’s not her type. They have to work so closely together to make this damn place run, reading each others’ intentions and patching each other up and practically working on top of and underneath each other; Gwen can’t do that if she has to worry about her hormones acting up just because her stupid coworker actually has some monster-y traits to go with the fact that technically, now he’s a monster.“Fuck,” she says, and it scrapes at her throat but it feels good anyways, so she says it again as she tries not to think about sharp teeth in an innocent smile. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

CHAPTER TWO

Gwen wakes up.

She keeps her eyes shut for a few moments. Sleep waits for her, solemn and warm, but something in the outside world is just off enough that she doesn’t surrender to it quite yet. Sluggishly, consciousness comes online.

She has a body. Her body is wrapped in a warm blanket. She’s still cold. She scrunches her nose and pulls her limbs in tighter, which helps a little, but not as much as the sudden cut-off of cold air that accompanies the screendoor’s muffled thwack.

Is David seriously coming in and out of the cabin at this hour? That deserves a squinted glare at the very least. Gwen rolls over to offer the stink-eye to her erstwhile coworker for his early morning volume, only —

The windows show only dark grey outside. Rain splatters half-heartedly against the panes. The digital clock on David’s night table illuminates the digits 7:08, more than twenty minutes before her first phone alarm is due to go off. Though the light inside the cabin is limited, it’s enough for Gwen to make out the rough outline of an enormous animal standing just in the doorway. It looks directly at her; its reflective eyes are brilliant and strange.

Her heart skips a beat. Then its pace increases, along with her breathing, because what the fuck, it’s gonna eat her —

A quiet, pitiful whine escapes the beast. It sounds pathetically sad, like Missy when Gwen’s dad won’t share his hamburger, but besides that universal doggy plea, something else about it seems... familiar.

She switches on her lamp before she can doubt herself.

The scant golden light reveals an unnaturally large wolf, its four paws placed carefully on the doormat. It is covered in thick red fur, Gwen knows, but not one hair of that is visible beneath its coat of caked, dripping mud. Its big green eyes are pleading.

“Christ, David,” she says hoarsely, and stumbles to her feet, already reaching for the box of garbage bags left out last night after she cleaned up the charred remains of his bed. She can cut one open and lay it down like a tarp; it’ll catch any mud he drips on the way to the bathroom so it won’t spread to the rest of the cabin. Where are her scissors?

She lurches about the cabin, trying to prep it for a muddy werewolf. Her brain is working, technically, running through where the spare towels are and what she’ll need, but it’s still too early for things to quite make sense. Werewolf? Sure, that’s logical, she can handle that. But shouldn't David have turned back by now?

“C’mon,” she says to him once she has a line of slit open trashbags laid out. David steps carefully along her path, his tail and ears down, and hops immediately into the tub without the need for her to explain. Pulling her hair back in a loose ponytail, Gwen locates an old, refillable slurpee cup, then squats on the bathmat and turns the water on.

It’s cold, as it always is first thing in the morning, but David doesn’t even react; his fur must be super thick. Still, she waits until it hits a reasonable temperature before plugging the bath and filling the mega slurpee cup. “Stay still, okay?” Placing a hand on his furry brow to prevent the water from getting in his eyes, she pours it over his head… which makes hardly any difference to the mud stuck fast to his fur.

Gwen rocks back onto her heels, frowning. “Think we’re gonna need more than water,” she tells David, who woofs so very softly in reply that even in her sleep-muzzy state she can’t help smirking a little. “Is that a yes?” His tail starts to wag, disturbing the already-clouded water filling the tub. “Yeah? You want some soap or shampoo or some shit, David?”

To her amusement, his tail wags even harder — he’s always so delighted by her solutions, even when they’re obvious, but somehow the tail-wagging hits different than his normal bouncy enthuthiasm. She idly wonders how far she can take this as she stands to examine their toiletries.

There’s not much left in his shampoo bottle, so Gwen grabs her body wash as well — it’s cheap and she has tons of it, so it’ll have to do. She kneels back down and softens her voice a little more, like she’s talking to a toddler or something, as she squeezes some shampoo into her palm. “You wanna get clean, David? Huh? Get all this crap off of you?”

He gives her a happy whine that is so very David, despite the species, that she can’t help the giggle that escapes her.

His tail stills for a moment and he stares at her, ears pricked high, the expression on his muzzle so close to human surprise that she starts to feel self conscious. Then he starts wagging his tail so furiously that Gwen has to quickly splat her shampooed hand on his head. “Shut up,” she tells him, and starts to rub it into a lather.

Gwen doesn’t really touch people. Growing up she’d been used to living in cramped spaces — Dad’s tour bus chief among them — which meant that being able to spread out was always such a luxury. She quit touring once she hit high school, but by that time the damage had already been done: after so many years of enforced closeness, Gwen never really figured out how to initiate physical contact when she wanted it, without a lack of room causing the press of bodies on all sides.

So she’s not good at touching people. David, on the other hand, is bad at not touching people. When Gwen awkwardly offered her hand to him during their first meeting, David went right in for an extended hug. He hasn’t gotten much better since; it’s taken years for her to train him to let go of her, dammit, and she’s given up on ever getting through a day without his hands fluttering around her shoulders, arms, back, casually and constantly touching her.

And though Gwen pretends not to notice or care, on the relatively rare occasions that she initiates contact, David always, always relaxes into her touch. It makes her feel… well, stupid, yes, but also warm and — damn him — kind of fond. Right now, it’s somehow even easier to slip into that feeling: he leans obviously into her hands as she works the shampoo and then body wash through his thick fur, the mud coming away under her fingers and slowly revealing more and more red fur.

It should be stranger, not least because he’s currently in the form of a predator that has terrified man for years. But Gwen keeps at it, soaping and scrubbing and rinsing, til her friend stands there on four paws, clean as can be.

...and, once she takes a step back to get a good view of him, looking a bit like an enormous drowned rat.

“Holy shit, you’re so skinny,” Gwen exclaims, leaning against the sink. She crosses her arms as she gets a good look at the wolf doing his best to pout in their tub. “All that fur almost made you look intimidating, but you’re all elbows, huh?”

David’s furry brow creases. He seems to think hard for a moment; feeling generous, Gwen waits him out. Finally, he sticks the very tip of his tongue out in an impressively snooty blep.

She snorts, snagging some ratty old towels, and drops back into the voice she uses for dogs and babies. “Well, does David wanna get dry now? Huh? Does Davey wanna let Gwen towel him off so he can be a big, scary fluffball again?”

When she turns back, his muzzle has contorted into one of offended realization. She can hear his voice so clearly in his scandalized expression: Wait, have you been making fun of me? That, plus the fact that his tongue is still out in a petite blep, has her pressing the towels to her face to muffle a laugh.

“David,” she starts, once she feels capable of facing him without making a fool of herself -- and then she startles at the spray of cool water against her skin, soaking into her pajamas, and the pafwappafwappafwap sound of a dog shaking itself dry. “David!” she snaps, horrified, and backs away, but the bathroom door is closed — she’s stuck — she holds up the towels, as if that will protect her. She’s going to kill him.

He woofs, sounding terribly pleased with himself, and Gwen blindly chucks the towels at him. By her ear, they splat against the tub -- she wipes at the water in her eyes, cursing. “I’m going to kill you,” she announces to the bathroom, fuming, and feels the rasp of something warm and wet on her free hand. She jerks away, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.

David stands beside her, fluffy and damp and way too smug, his green eyes sparkling in amusement. He’s big enough that his head hits her waist; if he stood on his back feet, he’d be tall enough to crowd her in, look down on her. As it is, he looks up at her, a distinctly… David look of affection on his face.

Gwen’s stomach swoops, but just a little, and that’s kind of embarrassing so she glowers at him. “Dick,” she mutters, yanking open the bathroom door and storming half-heartedly to her “dresser” (a shitty filing cabinet, because Campbell’s too cheap for real furniture). She can hear the click of his nails on the hardwood as she pulls out a camp shirt and a relatively clean sports bra. Her pajama shirt is soaked thanks to David’s sense of humor so she tugs it off and flings it into her laundry basket. “Shouldn’t you have changed back by now anyway?” she asks him. “It’s way past sun-up.”

She just buys whatever fits from the sales rack, so her sports bras are always wacky colors; this one is fuschia with vivid teal piping. She yanks it on over her head and makes sure her tits are facing the right way before realizing that David has gone totally silent.

She glances over her shoulder to find him staring at her with wide eyes, his tail frozen straight out in shock. When they make eye contact, his ears flatten against his skull and he seems at such a panicky loss for what to do that he actually yelps, which startles them both so much that they spend another precious second staring at each other in mutual what-the-fuck-do-we-do-ness before Gwem gets her shit together and throws her camp shirt at his face.

“I —! You were a dog! I forgot!” she snaps, face burning. Stupid. “Stay there!”

It takes Gwen seconds to get another shirt on, but her inner voice is shouting rapidly the whole time. He’s a wolf but he’s a werewolf so he’s a person so you can’t change in front of him dumbass! Unless you’re trying to get it on in which case why would you think unsexily shoving your boobs into a sports bra would be the way to do it?! Plus even if he is a werewolf he’s still David who isn’t supposed to be hot! ...But maybe he is now?? Even if that is the case you know you can’t handle a fling with a coworker so quit thinking about it, especially cuz right now he’s still in the form of a dog!!

In her mind, Gwen shouts inarticulately back at the voices and smashes their heads in with David’s guitar. In real life, she zips up her shorts and hesitantly lifts the spare shirt off David’s face. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, his ears back and head down, everything about his posture saying I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Gwen huffs out a breath — he gets so apologetic for the stupidest shit — and taps his forehead to get his attention. “David, it’s fine, it was my fault anyway. You can open your eyes.”

A fine tremble goes through him, but he peeks one eye open and, seeing that she’s telling the truth, opens both eyes to focus entirely on her. Gwen feels like squirming — even in this form, his focus makes her a little nervous. “Well?” she blurts out. “Why aren’t you human again?”

He flicks an ear in mild irritation (is he conscious of that, she wonders) and pads over to the cabin door, pointing his muzzle towards the outside. Gwen follows, looking out: the camp is muddy and full of puddles, rain drizzling down from pale grey clouds that take up the whole sky. Her stomach sinks.

“You need sunlight to change back?” she asks; he confirms with a prim little nod. Gwen tugs her phone over by its cord (it’ll probably break at some point, but what the fuck ever) and checks the weather app for the hourly forecast in Sleepy Peak. She can’t help hissing at what she sees.

“It’s supposed to be cloudy for the next twenty-four hours,” she says, feeling a little numb. David’s ears sink in clear dismay that matches her own. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

***

It turns out David doesn’t even need to speak for them to reach a decision.

He suggests (through a series of wolf-sounds and some poor pantomime) that he stay inside all day, but Gwen knows that he couldn’t even make it an hour being cooped up inside with no camp activities to run. So as long as he can avoid the mud, she’s sentencing him to spend the rest of the day outdoors on the off-chance that any sunlight makes it through the thick cloud cover.

Which means that she’s basically going to be running the camp alone today. Great.

Gwen rolls up a pair of his shorts and pins them onto a long-sleeve camp shirt so at least he’ll have clothing if he happens to change back. Obedient, David sits very still as she ties the bundle around his neck like a bandana. He looks up at her attentively when she smooths down the tree insignia so it lays flat against his red fur.

Despite the fact that he’s an enormous wolf, and despite the fact that he’s David, her brain says dog! and she has to resist the urge to pat his head. He almost looks cute.

“Okay,” she says, shrugging on her raincoat and opening the front door. “Quartermaster needs to get into storage to get you a new bed anyway, so I’ll do blanket forts for a bit and see how it goes. You — don’t get seen, don’t get too muddy, and come back as soon as you’re human again. Got it?”

David’s eyes turn determined. He lifts a paw to his nose in what Gwen assumes is his best “campe diem!!” and this time she really can’t help it — before she can stop herself, she’s running a hand down his fluffy head and scratching behind his ears. David leans into it, tail wagging, and by the time Gwen realizes what she’s done he’s already hopped out the door and trotted off into the woods.

Gwen is too awkward, too nervous, too weird — even after years of patching him up, she hardly ever touches David on purpose, but… that had been easy. His fur had been warm, his green eyes bright.

She stands there for a minute, blinking at her own hand, imagining she can still feel fur, dense and fine against her fingers. Then she shakes her head and gets going.

#camp camp #campcamp #writing this in 2020 was a weird period for me... but also like. aren't they all #what can i say. in times of trouble what i want most is to write about my favorite characters dealing w werewolf shenanigans >:3 #saint writes #just checked and my unpublished hlvrai werewolf fic is almost exactly as long as these drafts :o that one's more than halfway done tho #so hopefully i'll get to finish it and actually post it eventually #werewolves #oh we didn't even actually GET to the bed-sharing bit in this yet did we. lmao #cc

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annesthaeticc · 2 years

Text

Sweet November | Dr Strange x Fem!Reader

Sweet November : Chapter Four-November 9

| Series Summary: “One month.” Stephen said, his gaze intense. He raised his hand, offered it for you to shake. “One month.” you agreed, and shook his hand. The sign of a closed deal. Then he smiled at you, and from that instant, you realized, you just broke rule number one; no falling in love.

| Chapter Warnings: fluff, lil bit of angst i guess?, and some good old married couple bickering!

| Word Count: 3153 words

| A/N: hey there! how're u doing? thought i should bless u with another chapter before i fully disappear into my uni workload. any kind of feedbacks make me happy! hope u enjoy this chapter

Wednesday came along and you mindlessly went through your day. A lecture at eight in the morning, another class at ten. You quickly ate your lunch and rushed back home to change for your volunteer work at the daycare. If you were going to be honest to yourself, you are tired of juggling jobs and studying. And you exactly have no idea how you managed to agree with Stephen’s scheme. But then a part of you said, you deserve to lay back, even if that meant attending some parties in pretty dresses.

You could easily give up the daycare or the bookstore, but every penny must be saved to support your studies and your sister’s treatment. Every cent has its worth and you started to value it after your sister became diagnosed with brain cancer.

So when you got home that afternoon after your work at the daycare, you collapsed on your sofa, bone-tired and in desperate need of sleep. You gave in and folded yourself into a comfortable position, still wearing your jeans.

It was already dark outside when you woke up, the city lights already illuminating the streets of New York. Eyes squinting at the wall clock; 7:05 PM, you read. You scrambled, fell to the floor, and mad at yourself for having slept so long. Stephen will be picking you up in 25 minutes and you haven’t even hit the shower.

You willed your body to move as quick as you can, multitasking in the shower and drying your body. You threw on your bathrobe and plugged in your hairdryer. You were applying eyeliner when your phone suddenly rang. The ink strayed away from the almost perfect line and you cursed.

“I’m outside, I’m not late this time,” Stephen proudly said at the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry, I’m running late.” you sighed and pressed the loudspeaker button.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, you could hear what? Was that the sound of concern?

“I overslept,” you confessed as you slipped on your underwear. The dress was still hanging in a garment bag in your cabinet and so you ran to the other side of your room to retrieve it.

“Do you need help?” Stephen asked. He chuckled when he heard you curse. Of all the times the zipper had to be stuck, it was this time when you’re embarrassingly late.

“Alright, I’m coming up. What’s your room number?”

“Fourth floor, room seven.”

You were still strangling the bloody garment bag open when three sharp knocks echoed through your room. Garment bag tucked in the crook of your arm, you let him in.

“I’m really sorry I’m late,” you stepped aside to let him through.

“It’s fine, there’s no rush. Now what was the problem?”

“This!” you held up the bag and he took it from you. He managed to open the bag and give you the dress in less than a minute.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.” you shyly waved your hand around and dashed back into your bedroom to slip on your dress. Lucky you, your dress’ zipper cooperated with you. You effortlessly slid it up, hugging your waist perfectly.

Stephen was peering over your books that were scattered open on your coffee table when you walked back into your main room. Shoes and clutch in hand, you got his attention when you said, “I’m ready, let’s go.” You expected he’d be getting a move on, but no, he stood frozen in his spot.

Stephen felt his brain shutdown and restart. He became mildly tachycardic. He looked at you with his lips slightly parted and you had to ask if he’s okay.

You look so perfect, he thought.

“I’m fine.” he said, and stood taller. You narrowed your eyes at him and slowly nodded. “Are you sure?” you asked and he gave an annoyed look that made you chuckle.

Stephen thinks green suits you. But he wouldn’t say it out loud of course. You were wearing a green number this time, an emerald green satin gown. The dress swayed every time you moved, flowing like water. You looked so pretty and it made his chest hurt.

Soon enough, the two of you were in the elevator. You tried to slip on your heels without bending down too much so as to not ruin the dress but it was proving to be a challenge. You internally cursed yourself for not putting on your shoes first before you zipped up your dress.

Stephen sensed your struggle and he wordlessly kneeled in front of you and took the shoe from your hands. “Hold it up a bit,” he said, referring to your dress. You lift it up slightly for him to easily tie the knot of your heels. He did the same on your right foot and you saw him smile. He made perfect bows on each of your legs, securing the shoes.

“You better be smiling ‘cause the bows look pretty, Strange,” you warned. He stood up, chuckled, and joked, “No, I’m smiling because… nevermind.” You giggled, he really is strange sometimes.

“You’re so weird,” you said in a fit of laughter. “Hmmm, I think ‘Strange’ suits me more,” he replied.

You both stepped out into the early November chill and quickly climbed into his car. As Stephen drove, this time a bit above the speed limit, you pulled out your mirror and lipstick, applying shade onto your lips.

Fortunately, Stephen was busy driving. If not, he could’ve crashed the car while watching you put on lipstick; pouting and smacking your pink lips together. Or at least that’s what he thought. It seems that every second spent with you becomes real, or at least that’s what he feels. He lightly shook his head as if that would erase his thoughts about you, and for a while, it did.

He cannot fall in love with you.

“Are you okay?” you asked after noticing his grip on the steering wheel.

“Doesn’t that fall under the ‘no sharing of personal information?’” he muttered. And the mood suddenly took a shift.

“Okay, forget I asked. I’m sorry.” you said, your voice fading into a whisper.

Every sound in the car became magnificently louder; the turned down-low volume of the stereo, the clicking of indicator lights, even the gentle vibration of the mighty engine. You wished you could talk about something, erase the tension away, but you were stuck feeling an unknown emotion. You didn’t know what to do.

“Diana I—”

“It’s okay Stephen.” you cut him off, giving him a glance and a small smile.

Thank God for Earth, Wind & Fire. Your ears pricked up as you heard the familiar beat. The timeless and iconic melody of ‘September’ filled the silence and you gave him a glance and a grin. He turned up the volume. The tension was now dissolved as the two of you sang along to the song.

“Ba-dee-yaa, say, do you remember?” he sang.

“Ba-dee-yaa, dancing in November?” you followed as you lightly swayed your shoulders to the beat. You grinned to yourself, having changed the lyrics.

“Ba-dee-yaa, golden dreams were shiny days,” the two of you belted like you were on a karaoke sing–off.

As the song crescendoed, fading like every 70’s song, the car slowed, halting in front of one of New York’s luxurious hotels. From your window you could see a few photographers and guests mill about.

“There’s press in this one?” you absentmindedly asked.

“A few photographers and journalists, yes.” he quietly said as he maneuvered the car nearer into the hotel’s entrance.

The valet took the car when Stephen passed him the key, he rounded the car and followed you. He offered his arm to you like it was the most normal thing he ever does. You tucked your hand on the crook of his arm and slowly walked through the laid out carpet leading to the hotel’s lobby. Finally inside the hotel’s lobby, Stephen slowed his steps, stopping right under the crystal chandelier.

He sensed your apprehension to ask, and so he opened his mouth to speak, but the only syllables that left his lips were from your name.

“I- uh,” he stuttered and you looked at him in concern.

“Take your time,” you said, a light laugh escaping your lips.

“You’ve got lipstick here,” he pointed at the corner of your lips.

“Damn, am I an uncoordinated woman tonight,” you sighed as you tried to fish out your mirror to check.

“No, it’s only uh, a little bit here,” he distractedly said as his hand flew up to the side of your face. His thumb gently swiped the stray lip color from the corner of your lips, fingers gently cradling your jaw.

“Thank you.” you said, your voice barely a whisper. Stephen nodded and stepped back, creating a distance between you.

“So pictures will be taken in this one,” Stephen said as he watched his colleagues pose with their dates by the entrance of the hall.

“Is it really necessary to stand that close to each other?” you said, your voice quiet.

“Well, it’d look awkward in the photos if they stood apart.” he answered you with a chuckle. “We can skip it, if you’re not okay with all of that,” he said, waving his hand.

“No, it’s fine. It’s okay,” you said. “You sure?” he asked, brows furrowed in suspicion.

“C’mon Strange, before I change my mind,” you tugged at him and lined up among the couples that were waiting.

The flashes made your eyes hurt, and Stephen’s hand that was lightly resting on your waist didn’t help at all as the photographers screamed for your attention. Your sides were pressed together as you smiled at the cameras.

“It’s so fucking bright, think I’m gonna go blind,” you said through your teeth.

“Lucky for you I have a friend in the Ophthalmology Department,” he smirked as he steered you away from the press attention. You glared at him, dark spots clouding your vision. You blinked quickly and looked away.

Another night spent with Stephen meant another night of inquisition. It makes you curious how people are so invested in his love life. A notorious bachelor, that he is. Handsome, smart, and single. Once everybody caught news of you, his date, it spread like wildfire and you two are the hot new item. Almost everybody in the party approached the two of you, asking how you got together, how long have you been, and is there any hope of a break up anytime soon.

“Are you sure about that?” Caren, Dr. Lino’s date asked. Her question masked with a laugh.

“Yes, I am very very sure Caren. I’m very much taken by her and a break up wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.” Stephen faked a smile, he was increasingly getting annoyed with the intrusive lady.

You stepped closer to Stephen, dramatically hugging his side and planting your palm against his chest. A killer move, hopefully that’ll make her take the hint and leave the two of you alone.

“Well, Stephen please let me know—”

“Alright Caren, why don’t we get our glasses refilled huh?” Dr. Lino pulled her away and mouthed a ‘I’m sorry’ to you as he dragged his date away.

“Diana,” Stephen called you, your name clear as dear even though bass thumped throughout the room.

“Your hand is still on my chest,” he quietly muttered.

“Shit, yeah, I’m sorry.” you drew your hand away, and now it hung restlessly on your side.

The party soon started, and so did the champagne. At one point, Stephen’s name was called. He was congratulated for his latest work, another great contribution in the field of neuroscience. You watched him as he beamed in pride, yet in his eyes, you could see the quiet humility. You applauded along with the crowd and gave him a smile as he sat back.

Dance floor opened up eventually, a band started to play jazz and couples started to fill the dance floor. But you were most excited when the dessert buffet opened, you instantly queued and got yourself a small plate of cake. You brought it back to the table you shared with Stephen. He was sipping his drink, watching the dancefloor.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning forward as you took a seat beside him.

“Cake,” you simply said, yet there was excitement in your voice. You sliced it with your fork, took a bite, and moaned, eyes closed in delight.

Stephen eyed you, but most especially the sweet treat that was between you. You noticed this and decided to torment him.

“Do you want some?” you asked and he nodded. As you raised the fork up to his lips, he said, “I can feed myself, thank you very much.”

“Mr. Snarky Strange is back, that means I get to eat this slice,” you popped the chocolate goodness into your mouth and hummed. Stephen scowled at you and rolled his eyes.

You raised a forkful of cake once again, tempting him to eat it. This time, he gave in and his scowl was quickly wiped as his face relaxed into satisfaction.

“What was that?” he inquired, pointing at the cake.

“Devil’s Food cake,” you smiled, seeing how he enjoyed it.

“You fed me cake,” he said, his voice dark.

“I just did,” you giggled. “Couples feed each other, don’t they?” you said with a brow raised as if to challenge him.

“Yes they do, but married couples feed each other cake,”

“So? I think couples who aren’t married can feed each other cake. Besides, we’re literally a married couple,” you shrugged. He looked at you in horror and you laughed at his reaction.

“We are not!” he said.

“We so are!”

“We’re not a married couple,”

“Yes we are, Stephen. Can you even hear yourself? The way you bicker with me, we sound like a married couple,” you joked further.

“We’re not even a real couple, Diana.”

Funny how six little words could hurt you. Why were you even feeling hurt? He has a point, you’re not even dating him for real. You were only his date for tonight, your rational self argued.

“As you like to remind me.” you said to him straight in the eye before looking away, hoping to hide the rising yet silent anger in you.

Lucky for you, Dr. Nielsen stepped in before the tension could mount further. If the doctor didn’t come near, you would’ve left the table and the party altogether. Once again walking out on Stephen. A part of you screamed he deserves it, he was being mean to you and hurting you. Yet another part of you silently begged to stay, at least consider what he’s going through and hear him out.

You chose to stay.

“I’d like to have the next dance with you, Diana,” Dr. Nielsen smoothly said as he stood in front of you. Without any hesitations, you rose from your seat, not looking back at Stephen.

The doctor did look at Stephen, as if to ask for permission. Stephen acquiesced and you heard him say, “Show her a good time, Niel. I’m saving the last dance for her.”

Dr. Niel, he begged you to call him just ‘Niel’, did good on his word. He spun you around as the band hyped up the jazz. He helped you return to your seat as your cheeks glowed red.

“Hope you get your breath back,” Stephen said as you sat back in your seat. You nodded at him and excused yourself to get a drink. But he beat you to it, quickly rising from his seat. “No, stay there, put your feet up, I’ll get you the drink,” he swiftly said and shot you a smile.

When Stephen got back, your eyes slowly blinked, prompting him to ask, “Tired? Do you want to leave now?”

“No! Not yet anyway, and you promised me a dance,”

“I did, didn’t I?” he chuckled. When you finished your drink, he helped you up and led you back into the dancefloor, right under the sparkling chandeliers.

His hand reached out to draw you close, snaking around your waist. Your hands slid up to his arm, finally stopping on his broad shoulder. Holding hands, you two swayed along to a ballad.

“Diana, I—” Stephen started, but the words tripped on his throat once again. He needs to get checked out, he can’t seem to finish his sentences when he’s with you, especially when you’re close to him.

But he thought no doctor would ever diagnose him of any kind of disease. Because love isn’t.

“Stephen?”

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, the words spilling out of his lips.

“No, you didn’t, and just tonight?” you jibed and he graced you with a chuckle. “Thank you, Stephen. And you don’t look so bad yourself,” you smiled, and he did the same.

He looks a hundred times more beautiful when he smiles, you thought.

When the song ended, you both agreed that it’s best to leave the riff raff. It was nearing midnight anyway and you have classes tomorrow. Silence fell between you but it was broken when Stephen suddenly spoke up as you fixed your seatbelt around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said. You turned and gazed at him as you held your breath in anticipation. “Stephen, it’s okay,” you exhaled.

“No, it’s not.”

“Stephen, I understand—”

“I was mean to you and it’s not okay that you just understand that,” he turned to you, his hand gripping the wheel.

“You don’t need to tell me, it’s fine,” you said.

His hand left the wheel, reaching out, but his insecurity got the best of him and instead, his hand landed on the gear shift. You sensed his struggle, just like how he sensed yours early in the evening, and gently touched his hand. Lightly planting the palm of your hand on top of his hand.

“Tell me you accept my apology,” he said, and your gazes met.

“I do, Stephen. Apology accepted.” you replied.

You sucked in a breath as you felt him shift his hand. Intertwining your fingers together. He squeezed it gently, softly pushing his palm to yours. He let go at some point to finally steer the car to drive you both home. He woke you up when he parked the car by the street, softly calling out your name. He insisted he open your door and help you up the few steps leading to your apartment.You said your ‘goodnights’ by your apartment’s main door, slightly leaning into each other as if a simple goodnight couldn’t suffice.

“Goodnight,” you whispered for the third time, still failing to leave him.

“Goodnight, Di. Now please get in.” he jokingly ordered, a smirk painted on his lips. You laughed, finally letting yourself in and finally admitting to yourself how badly you wanted to kiss him goodnight.

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