#I had to take a break to eat and stretch and not be Stanley for a bit but I still fully intend to jump back in after a short rest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nyimasu · 9 months

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CONTENT WARNING! — eyes wide shut au, orgy, unprotected sex, voyeurism, pet names (love, sugar, baby), reader and geto have tattoos and you're a bit shy at first, praises, hair pulling, poly dynamics with gojo (what's new), lingerie kink, biting, secret pining, slight corruption kink, fingering, oral (reader receiving), cum eating, double penetration, all three of you get unhinged towards the end and break the orgy grandmaster's rules / WORD COUNT — 5.5k (pure brainrot)

ANYA'S CORNER — aesthetical hedonism to its finest, this work has been clearly inspired by stanley kubrick's last masterpiece, "eyes wide shut". also big shoutout to my love, @nagumoan for helping me throughout the various phases I had to come up with to finish this lmao love you dearly, loni!

P.S. : this fic is not proofread but I still hope you enjoy it! see you soon 🦋

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED!

“What’s on your mind, Suguru?”

When you ask Suguru to do something different tonight, you realize your words backfire immediately because your dark-haired partner scoots closer to you on the sofa, his pupils dilating when you press a kiss to his lower lip. Then you wait for his response.

But the man is thinking so hard about your implicit request that his mind drifts away. Your sultry laugh brings him back to reality, though.

The man chuckles, amused by the hint of confusion in your question. "Nothing too wicked or extreme, my love. But what I have in mind for us might require you to get out of your comfort zone for a while. Are you still okay with it?"

You nod without hesitation, and your hand on his thigh brings Geto to smile, luring you closer to kiss you. Always so respectful and caring, your lover.

So, a couple of conceited phone calls from his part and a quick run to your wardrobe later, here you are, waiting in front of a wooden door to open to a villa— no, to a mansion probably built in the 19th century.

Tonight it’s shrouded in darkness and lush nuances of deep green, probably trees caressed by the capricious hand of the wind.

What a perfect night to find beauty and grace in you again, Geto thinks to himself. His eyes brim with mischief, his lips stretched in a smile under the white and golden mask he has on, while your gaze reflects the stardust coating the sky.

You are clothed in nothing more than a Venetian mask, a black coat, silvery high heels, and a set of lace lingerie your boyfriend is really fond of.

The aforementioned has your arm linked with his, and you both look at each other when the gates creak open.

Oblivious to his thoughts, you look up at him, and Suguru tilts his head towards the other masked couples before you.

“Let me introduce you to a whole new world. You haven’t seen anything like this before, not even in your wildest dreams. Come with me, love.”

Curious, you follow the rest of the guests and enter into the perfectly curated garden preceding the main body of the mansion, which soon welcomes you all with a cascade of candles covering every inch of the walls, starting from the corridor.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I wouldn’t even think of putting you in harm’s way if I wasn’t sure you were going to be alright. You’re safe with me.”

You search for Geto’s eyes for reassurance, and he feels your gaze on him. He squeezes your hand oh-so lightly first, then stops right before you walk past the living room’s frame door.

The noise in the background doesn’t act as a distraction to either of you, so your partner simply shifts his grip from your arm to your lower back while he puts you at ease by saying:

“I know, of course. I’m not questioning that.” you reply right away, fidgeting with some of the rings of his dominant hand, the one wrapped around your waist.

Then you step forward to take in the smell of fresh flowers, tobacco, and other scents in the living room. The staccato pace your heels set as you walk around to look at the candleholders scattered across the immense living room goes unnoticed, but not the swirls of ink on your body when the cloak slips to the side to reveal the tiniest sliver of skin.

“It’s just that this,” you punctuate the last word with a sigh, pointing at the opulence surrounding you. “I’m a bit intimidated by all of this. Everything screams expensive. I mean, look at these chandeliers! They’re magnificent, and I can bet my entire lingerie drawer that they're gold. Like, gold gold. Whoever owns the place is filthy rich.”

Now, that catches the attention of some of the guests, but you pass by them without noticing their stares on you. But your partner does, and he’s not the only one.

Your eyes are set on him only as you make your way back to Geto once more. Once you’re within reach, you feel his hand snaking up the cloak’s slit, and you giggle at the feeling of his feather-like touches on your thigh.

Do not get distracted, you reprimand yourself and gently take Suguru’s hand in yours to finish your sentence.

A muffled smirk follows your theory, probably because someone has made their presence known behind you. Alarmed, you turn and stare at the stranger. Somehow, the way they carry themselves is familiar to you, as if you’ve already met this person before.

And they’re tall.

Like, really tall.

On second thought, even their way of speaking sounds too much like the one used by another person you practically see every day.

“Oh, sugar. Is this a legitimate bet? You know, I would love to have all your panties and bras in my bedroom. And to answer your question: yes, they’re gold gold. I’ve personally commissioned them to be made by the finest Italian craftsmen alive. They’re gorgeous, aren’t they?”

Before you can speak your mind, however, the masked person in front of you stops laughing after taking a look at your and Suguru’s intertwined hands; when they do, the stranger leans against the wall, an inch away from another candleholder. “Cuties.”

He only speaks that way with you and his closest friends.

Geto scoffs, his walk steady as he takes his place next to you. His arm links with yours again before shifting attention to the stranger.

Well, you two are not such strangers to them after all, because the lightness in your lover’s voice when he answers the stranger rings a bell.

“Do not change the subject, you freak. So, panties and bras, huh? You’ve never told me about this peculiarity of yours before. You want to wear, sniff, or jerk off with it?”

The masked one laughs again, this time while they clasp one hand around Geto’s forearm. It's big, all spidery fingers and gorgeous veins standing proud against their porcelain-like skin as the figure adjusts the cloak around their broad shoulders.

Girl, get a grip on yourself.

Shaking your head to push your horniness into a corner of your mind, you come to realize that you know them, and they seem to be quite intimate with you and Geto as well.

God, you have their name on the tip of your tongue, but it escapes you the moment you look at their attire. All your focus goes to their shiny patent leather shoes, and then up to their cloak.

Strangely enough, their robe is not pitch-black like yours. It's magenta-hued. And the mask? Oh, it’s almost as if it’s been dipped into liquid gold because the shimmer of it is just too bright and too real to be fake.

“Ah, Suguru. I would rather not say. A man keeps his secret stash of the finest food close to his chest. You of all people should know it, considering you keep the most delicious Zunda a breadth away from you.”

The stranger’s hood is down, and your eyes land on pure snow-white hair framed by the mask. But then, the person shifts closer to you and Suguru, and the lights shine on their entire figure.

On their inhumane eyes.

Also, no one calls you “delicious Zunda” but him, a man with a terrible sweet tooth who happens to devour every single sweetery he finds in your house whenever he swings by to see his best friend.

No way.

Baffled, you sharply exhale and whisper: "You've got to be kidding me.”

The relationship between you and Geto is exclusive. Nevertheless, you both agreed to expand your horizons when the time and people involved felt right. And Suguru thinks tonight might be the night. Jealousy never pertained to him, especially when it comes to you.

You shove a hand under the person’s mask and lift it up by the chin. Behind the mask, there’s a pair of bright, light blue eyes staring right back at you, while plump lips curled in a shit-eating grin match Suguru’s hidden delight.

He let you take off his best friend’s mask because your lover knows that, deep down, you and the other man have some sexual tension you both need to work through.

You’ve never admitted it out loud, partially because you don’t want to hurt Suguru, but you’ve always found Gojo attractive, and the white-haired man has been doting on you ever since you and Geto started to date five years ago.

You’re so deeply in love with him —and he with you—that to have a stranger come between you is unthinkable. But a man Geto trusts with his life?

That’s another story.

He does feel, however, that the spark between you and his best friend is ready to ignite.

“Gojo Satoru. I was hoping to spare myself the sight of your ugly face tonight; that’s why I asked Suguru to go out. But I didn’t think he would take me to your fucking place.”

Gojo stoops closer, his eyes boring holes in your face as he bends his knees to meet your fuming gaze. It brings him immense joy to see you in distress because of him, and you hate when either he or Geto get to your eye level. It makes you feel smaller, and you are already much shorter than them. Ugh.

If looks could kill, he’d be in a pool of blood at your feet by now.

My guests?

“Aw, is my little dove bothered by my presence? You didn’t tell her everything, did you, Suguru? Because if you did, she wouldn’t have come to us this easily. Well, enjoy your last moments of tranquillity while I help the rest of my guests get comfortable.”

The air whistles as Satoru puts on his mask again and walks towards the centre of the living room, his cloak floating behind him, akin to a king’s. And somewhat, he really is of royal blood, considering he’s one of the richest and most influential member of the Gojo clan.

Upon his arrival, the others wandering in the living room halt on the spot, and so does their chit-chat. The silence following Gojo’s entrance makes your blood evaporate.

What did you just walk yourself into?

“Before we start, I’d like to repeat some ground rules some of you may not be aware of.”

“Greetings, dear guests of mine. Thank you for coming to my abode. So, as you can see, I’ll be your grandmaster tonight.” he points at his golden mask and red cloak before continuing.

Contrary to your partner, modesty really isn’t Gojo’s strongest suit.

That last bit is directed at you, and you fight the instinct to give him the finger.

The snow-haired man raises a hand and puts down his thumb. “Rule number one: we never take off our masks. It’s mandatory, for it helps us conceal our identities. No one must try to pry out information about others. Whoever breaks this important rule will be kicked out.”

He’s going to drive you insane alongside Suguru, you can feel it in your bones. What are you saying? No need to fool yourself by feigning ignorance, at this point.

They always do.

Everyone nods to his words, and you roll your eyes, much to Geto’s amusement. Well, you have broken that rule, already.

“There’s no number limit of participants in the encounters, but I do warn you: I will be keeping an eye on each and every single one of you, so don’t do anything that will prevent the other parties involved to enjoy themselves. If you dare to do anything against your partners’ desires or act without explicit consent, you will be taken and kicked out.

His index finger is the second one to curl. “Rule number two: everyone keeps their cloaks on until I say so. As grandmaster of the evening, I have the right to decide whenever the fun begins,”

His eyes beam with unhidden delight under the golden mask, enhancing the ethereal hue, and they’re so breathtaking to look at that a few women close to him audibly gasp.

Have I been clear?”

A collective ‘yes’ follows the second rule, and you are beginning to understand this is not your normal Friday night. Once again, you look at Suguru, and he leans over you to hear you whisper,

“You brought me to an orgy.”

He sighs, ready to get you both out of here if he hears even the slightest amount of doubt in your voice. His voice is feeble when he asks: “Will you stay?”

You don’t respond right away, rather you rest your head against his shoulder as Gojo declares the third and final rule of the evening. He’s watching you and Geto like a hawk as his voice reaches everyone in the room, and the snarly remarks after he’s done confirms your hunch.

“Rule number three: as your grandmaster, I have the right to accept or deny your requests to partake in your liaisons. You cannot, however, refuse me. Especially you two.”

Your whole body freezes, and so does Suguru.

Gojo is pointing at you and your partner from across the room and, useless to say, many eyes are on the both of you as Satoru concludes his speech.

“The Sun Dragon and the Moon Lover are mine. No one will have them but me.”

Your spirit is on fire, enraged by Satoru’s claim, and when you finally answer Suguru, you work your jaw so hard that your muscles start to protest.

“I will stay. I want to smash his head against the wall. I hate him.”

Suguru kisses your hair. “You’re so bloodthirsty, my love, but no, you don’t hate him. In fact, I think you fancy him enough you might give yourself up to him tonight.”

“What are you talking abo-”

“Tsk-tsk”, he tuts. “Your mind and body hold no secrets to me. I know you better than you know yourself. Promise me this.”

He lifts his mask enough to let his lips rest in the crook of your exposed neck, right where your vein quivers under his touch.

“Smother him the same way you do with me. He's as crazy about you as you are of him and me. Do not hold back.”

“Go, my guests. Search for beauty and grace.”

An hour has gone by since the orgy officially started and apparently, Gojo isn’t the only person you know at the party/orgy.

And your surprise knows no limits as you walk by yet another room, and a glimpse of sandy hair tells you the man who’s pounding a very pleased girl is someone you’re acquainted with.

Turns out that some of the guests are close friends of yours, as well. You can’t see their faces, of course, but their movements and voices are unmistakable, including the ones of a man you never thought you’d see there.

The same could be said about you, since you’re not the typical regular at orgiastic festivals.

“My love.” Geto gently urges you to stay quiet, because the others guests are watching you and who you know for sure to be Nanami Kento stare at each other while his hips stutter and his deep voice bounces off the walls in a long, “Fuck”.

Sensing your eyes on him, the man cocks his head towards you and the girl beneath him mewls in need.

Oh, my God.

His partner’s pathetic attempts to gain his attention fail again and you eventually walk away from the scene with Suguru by your side. You and your friend will have time to catch up later.

For now, you just need to get through the night in one piece.

Many guests keep staring at you and Geto, mainly because of the tattoos both of you display with such ease. Out of everyone, you and him are the most tattooed people in the mansion.

Suguru’s white dragon on his back and right arm compliments the black snakes wrapped around your thighs and part of the hips while the argent, celestial constellations starting from the base of your neck then falling onto the forearms like shooting stars balances out the vivid streaks of fiery dahlias that bloom across the entirety of Geto’s left arm.

The moment they come too close, the grandmaster is already there to confront them, sneaking an arm around your bare waist, or by standing so close to Suguru that the teeth of jealousy sink into your flesh over and over again.

Together, you make one hell of an attractive couple, and because of this, a couple of men and a woman tried to approach you and Geto.

All to no avail.

First, he called dibs on you and Geto. Then he chickens out, leaving your mental sanity to hang by a thread.

“It seems you’ve forgotten what I said earlier. They’re mine. Find someone else to have fun with”, and the moment the guests disappear, so does Gojo.

Now that your most sordid desires have been discovered by your lover— and the man still wants you despite everything, for God’s sake—, you’re just waiting for him to act upon his demand. Will you keep pouting like a little girl when he leaves over and over again?

No fucking way. Time to take the matter ibto your own hands.

“Suguru.”

The man whips his head around to look at you. You often call him by his first name, but not with that sultry tone. When you do, it is always for one reason only.

To edge and tease him is your biggest delight, and the tent in his tuxedo pants is already painfully tight around his girth when he replies, “Yes?”

“There’s something we should do.” the sentence tumbles off your lips slowly, every syllable dragging into the other when you finally reach the east wing of the mansion, right beside a huge pool table. Geto is unsure if you realised it, but you’ve been following around Gojo the entire night, and now you’re a few metres away from him.

The orgy grandmaster in the middle of a conversation with a brunette and her rather bulky companion, and your heart stops. The two guests are Shoko Ieiri and Fushiguro Toji.

To say you’re wet would be an understatement.

Goddammit, how many of our friends come to these orgies?

You quickly set aside the question. You’ll deal with everyone else later, for your mind is set on the goal at hand. Also, to think that they’re about to witness what you’re about to do has you squeeze your thighs together as something warm leaks through you.

Geto doesn’t miss a single beat and comes closer to you, his taut chest colliding with yours as his height consumes the air around him. Any sense of shyness or shame is long gone from your body, so you rest your back against the pool table like a languid cat when a sudden gasp leaves your lips.

“We have something to do, you say. What is it, my love?”, Suguru taunts under his breath. His gorgeous fingers are stroking the damp spot at the front of your panties while his thumb flicks patterns around your clothed clit.

“Go on. I want to hear you say it.”

Good. The almighty Gojo Satoru is not as detached as he prides himself to be.

Without warning, his other hand flies to your hair. The pin that holds it slips off and vanishes in Geto’s pocket, and your strands fall around your face. You stare at him, until he turns to glare at Gojo.

You follow his lead, and you both find the grandmaster with his arms crossed on the chest, laboured breath and foot tapping furiously against the marble floor.

“Fuck me on this pool table while everyone’s watching. Come on, I know it’s to die for.” you say that so nonchalantly that Suguru falters, taken aback, while a low grunt rumbles in Gojo’s throat. He’s close enough to hear you purr such lewd words just fine.

Little do they know, the request is aimed at them both.

The room has fallen silent, Shoko and Toji as amazed as the rest of the guests, but the first to break the ice is the grandmaster himself. He’s regained some self-composure by the time he sidles up to Geto, but you’re one step ahead.

Lost in the haze of lust, they don’t notice you’ve hopped onto the pool table until you press a heel onto Suguru’s crotch, the other on Gojo’s. They both snap back to reality at the feeling, and you giggle when they get harder under the stilettos.

“Shit. You’re soaking wet, love. You’re clenching around the fucking air.”

“You didn’t think I had it in me, did you?” you let go of their groins to spread your legs further on the table. Suguru is the first to grab your thigh, rings digging into the flesh while Gojo’s hand brushes against the other, his approach softer but needy all the same.

Veins pop out of their hands as they both keep you in place, and Satoru glances at you for consent, to make sure you’re fine with him touching you. You nod, then you throw back your head the moment Geto pushes aside your panties with two fingers. He yanks at your roots and you moan as a string of curses at the sight of your puffy cunt echoes between you three.

“B-both.” talking is getting harder by the second, and despite the mask, you can still feel Satoru’s breath fanning on your wet folds. The slit where the mouth is channels the warm air, so you’re really fucked.

“Let me see,” Satoru falls to his knees to take a good look at your pussy, to feel his mouth water with each bead of arousal escaping you, your muscles clamping to have some kind of relief no one can give you but them.

He gulps and whistles to try to ignore how hard he’s got in seconds. “What a sight. So drenched and ready to be filled, uhm? Is this for me, sugar? Or Suguru?”

The mask is definitely not helping.

“What do you want us to do? Use your words.” Suguru coats index and middle finger in your juices and gently prods at your entrance, so ready to pull him in, and they both wait patiently for you to speak.

“Don’t stop. Your fingers-”, your eyes roll back as you lift your hips up to motion for Geto to continue. “I need them in me. Please.”

He obliges with a sigh, because he loves to finger you as much as you adore to sense his fingertips poking your insides.

Your partner buries two fingers in you altogether and you nearly lurch backward at the intrusion, but Satoru is quick to ground your hips on the pool table with his other hand as Suguru starts to massage your inner walls, curling and scissoring his digits apart.

They both have such nice hands, your mind is spiralling into an endless vortex. But before you can do so, a tap on your thigh brings you to look down.

Satoru is waiting for you.

Power must have gotten to your head, it has to, because your fingers yank down his hood to glide among his pure, soft hair as you breathe out:

“Your mouth, Satoru. Y-your tongue. I want everything.”

Then you remember. No one is allowed to take off their masks, not even the grandmaster.

“I’ve been waiting for so long for this”, Gojo whispers to you, eyes skittering all over your lower abdomen and breasts. Too bad he can’t see your face. “You taste so fucking good.”

A gentle kiss close to your knee shakes you to the core.

Eyes widening in surprise, you ogle shamelessly at Gojo, at his mask slightly tilted up only for his lips to be free of any hindrance. You have no time to react because they immediately latch onto your lower lips, taking half of your pussy in his mouth with a satisfied growl.

Suguru has shifted his attention on your bundle of nerves, focusing on it to let Gojo devour the rest of you.

If it wasn't for the mask, both men would see how much their ministrations are affecting you, but fret not. Your body is showing them plenty to compensate.

Geto laughs and his hand still in your hair descends to your tits. He circles, pinches your nipples through the lace, mimicking the same motion on your clit — you won’t last long, not when he’s hitting all the right spots and his best friend is eating you out the way you like it in front of a bunch of people.

Geto has shared intimate tips on how to pleasure you, and Gojo is following them by the book. Those two had agreed on doing this way before tonight.

How does he know- Oh. Oh.

And you do so with a shared moan from you and them, because you rest your head against Suguru’s chest while your eyes fix on Gojo.

Suddenly all too self-aware of everything, you try to back down from the men, but they both hold you in place. The coil in your stomach tightens even more when Geto’s hoarse voice reaches you.

“Look at us.”

And at that moment, you see Suguru’s inked arm coming between you and the grandmaster, more specifically his hand. It rests on Satoru’s nape and pushes his face into your cunt, almost as if he wants to suffocate him between your legs, but the snow-haired man chuckles at that and tongues your entrance straight away.

The pace set allows him to nose your clit, but when he draws back it's Geto's turn to circle it with his thumb. You can’t escape them.

They’re both right.

“That’s so hot.” you hear someone say, probably Toji.

“It’s too much.” adds Shoko.

“Too fast”, you don’t even know who you’re talking to at this point and you raise yourself on your elbows, back arched on its own. Even the heat emanating from Geto is too much, and you do babble something along the lines of, “N-no, ’s too much. I can’t-”

Satoru stops briefly to kiss your inner thigh, his and Geto’s heart-shaped eyes tunnelling on your heaving chest. Your cleavage is sticky with sweat and Suguru plants his forehead against it as Gojo growls.

“You can.”

And the orgasm comes quicker than expected. The coil cracks, your legs try to snap shut around Satoru’s head but Geto helps him to keep them open as you come with a strangled sob. Breath stuck in your lungs, you feel Suguru come closer to let you moan on his collarbone.

Pleasure clouds your mind as Gojo runs his tongue through your folds to lap up your release and you protest meekly, on the edge of overstimulation.

Gojo wails, keens at your feet when you pull his hair while your inner walls clench around his wet muscle, but he catches on quickly and wets three of his long fingers with your juices as you still fuck yourself on his tongue. Suguru helps you ride through the orgasm, caressing every sliver of your skin he can reach.

“Ssh, that's it, love. Come on his tongue. Look at how needy he is to please you. Give him every droplet of you.” is what cuts through the noise in your ears.

Tears have pooled under your eyes yet you don’t give in to them, rather your hands find harbour in both men’s locks as the last moments of blissful release wash over you.

“Thank you.” you say, voice veiled with a bit of tiredness. Geto strokes you gently around the neck and Satoru pecks you on the leg affectionately before pulling away to allow you and your lover to gawk at him and his fingers, slick with your cum, and he licks them clean with a low whimper.

It’s so painful, the wanton need you have to kiss them both after they gave you a bone-shattering orgasm. But you can’t.

Not here, not now.

Your eyes flash black, pupils dilating beyond normal sense. Suddenly you’re not so spent, anymore. And neither are they.

Suguru doesn’t need to be told twice. You’re still a tiny bit out of it, but suddenly you’re in Geto’s arms, and he’s walking so fast amongst the little crowd that had gathered around you that you almost miss Shoko and Toji. With whatever strength you have left, you simply yell:

Satoru grabs his best friend by the tuxedo’s collar and he grunts, out of breath: “My room. Now.”

Toji’s deep chuckles rattle against your bones, and you hear faintly the grandmaster encouraging his guests to enjoy themselves while he’s gone, because he needs to “step back for a while”.

“Guys, we need to talk. My place, tomorrow morning. Bring the mimosa!”

Since he’s spent uncountable days there, it doesn’t take long for Suguru to get to his best friend’s suite. You’ve completely recovered by now, still you wait until your partner has laid you down on the queen-sized bed before acting.

“Hey, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Once within arm’s reach, Suguru lets out a snort when your arms circle his waist and you push him on the bed. Now he’s on his back while you straddle him, and your eyes land on his groin. He’s so stiff with need that the moment you unzip his pants, his cock slaps against his stomach.

“Easy, my love.” Geto laughs amidst pants, for your hands are everywhere on him. You practically tear his shirt apart to feel the familiar scent of him fill your nostrils, but when you pull aside your panties to sink on his girth, your lover places his hands on your hips, stopping you.

You pout, defeated. “I just want you inside me. Don’t you want to be inside me, Suguru?” in saying so you pout in faux defeat, all while stroking his cock.

The man grabs your waist. Hard.

“Just wait a minut-”

Of course he wants— hell, he needs to fuck you into the ground until you cream around his dick. You always look so pretty when you do, all loose limbs, glassy eyes and bitten lips.

But he promised a certain person to wait for him.

“No. I’m done waiting.” you shake your head, his pleas falling on deaf ears. You’re about to pull his hands away from you and have your way. Well, just before the lock clicks.

Having your back turned, you don’t see who’s locked the door until Satoru’s abs graze your shoulders. And his erection is pressed against your back, causing you to short-circuit.

When did he have time to undress? Why is he so huge?

But these are the last things you need to worry about, because as soon as his lips are on your neck, you realise his mask isn’t where it’s supposed to be.

His angelic features, twisted in desire, are a sight to see.

And yours fall on the bed once Gojo takes it off of you. The dim lights in the bedroom are easy on the eyes, and much easier is to be eye-fucked but not one, but two men.

“So am I, baby. So am I. '' Satoru peels off your panties without hesitation and once they’re past your hip bones, he gives them a pull and ball them up in his fist. Geto watches his best friend pump himself with your panties acting as a fleshlight, grunting and moaning.

I’m such a lucky girl, your mind is going in circles as you get rid of Geto’s mask. I have them both all for myself.

Now that you’re all face to face, you cave in. First, you drag Suguru in a kiss, violent and brimming with passion he reciprocates just as strongly as Gojo, with his face perched on your shoulder, awaits for him.

“Sa- ngh, I can’t. ‘T-‘toru.”

“Now you can ride me, love.” Geto assists you as you sink on his cock. Inch by inch, you impale yourself on his girth until you bottom out, all while Satoru keeps your lips prisoners of his. His moans are yours and yours his, even when you break away to inhale some fresh air.

The name has Gojo’s blood go straight to his lower abdomen and once Geto lets you go with a final bite on your lower lip, the snow-haired man hauls you flush against him, and you’re welcomed with an open-mouthed kiss. You sigh in it and unconsciously peck at his lips, making him growl.

He’s about to explode, amd Suguru with him.

The moment doesn’t last long because the angry tip of Gojo’s cock, smeared in spit and your arousal that still coated the panties, is breaching past your folds to sit inside your full pussy.

You’ve broken every rule set by the orgy grandmaster, and he and his best friend lured you to participate to an orgy culminating in a dissolute threesome.

“Be a good girl and take me. We know you can, right, Suguru?” Satoru abruptly lurches towards Geto to give him a quick kiss to which your partner responds by cradling his face with a hand. The moment is so intimate, so special that your heart flutters.

You look at them tenderly for what it feels for an eternity, but they don’t let you feel left out for long, because their lips, their teeth mark your skin as Satoru eases himself in you, chomping down on your neck to restrain himself from coming already. You nearly do the same.

Feeling so full, stretched in any way possible now that his shaft rests upon Geto’s is truly divine.

It is worth the risk, since you grind on Suguru’s abs and raise your arms to lock them around Gojo’s neck to whisper,

“Give me more. More, more, more... ”

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #voice of cassandra

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laurenairay · 3 years

Text

What Love Feels Like - S. Crosby

Summary: your boyfriend Sidney, the surprise romantic?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: established relationship fluff, cheesy romance, essentially a 4+1

A/N: I’ve been in an absolute writing rut since before Christmas, so I just want to thank @danglesnipecelly for reminding me how much I love soft sexy sid 😘 also, how have I never written for him before?!

No-one ever said dating Sidney Crosby was going to be easy.

They also didn’t say how much of a romantic he was either.

It was like at every turn, he had a new way to make your heart beat a little faster, to make you face heat up warm, to make your stomach fill with butterflies. Whether it was buying your favourite sweet treats as a pick me up, or the kisses that would leave you breathless in passing, or even the way his tongue flicked at your bare body just right, Sidney always kept you on your toes.

But it was his words that affected you the most.

You hadn’t expected much verbal affection from him at the beginning of your relationship, the rumours of his hockey robot status the main thing you knew about him – but you were quickly proved wrong. Maybe it was the media training that kept him so hockey-bland in interviews, because the minute he wasn’t in hockey mode, he immediately turned sweet, suave and so sexy. And it wasn’t just flirting talk, to prelude to sex (although the first time he murmured all the things he wanted to do with you after the team event you were at, you almost lost your mind then and there) – it was the sweet loving statements that sent your heart pounding.

How could you ever have known about his way with words?

Today had been a stressful one. Work had been full-on without any warning, and you were just about done with people. You’d even hesitated when Sidney offered to cook you dinner at his house – but eventually the temptation of being pampered by your boyfriend had been too good to resist. Maybe he’d be able to turn your day around. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

And as you suspected, Sidney had taken one look at the exhaustion on your face and ushered you to the sofa, only disappearing to come back with a large glass of wine for you.

“You are an absolute gem,” you groaned, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He just grinned, taking the silent cue for what it was and leaning down to kiss you gently. Yes, this was just what you needed.

And the evening had only gotten better from there. Sidney had made the two of you a simple but delicious coq au vin dinner (the recipe definitely came from Vero Fleury, and you knew that you would definitely need to text her your thanks later), followed by a chocolate tart that you swore was the best thing you’d ever tasted (that one was from a local bakery, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you’d get something from there now!). And all throughout the evening, Sidney had kept the conversation flowing, telling you hilarious stories of grumpy Geno and naïve rookies from the recent road trip he’d had, as well as about the cute dog that his neighbour had recently adopted, and you felt yourself relaxing more with each passing moment.

Sidney had indeed turned your day around just like you’d hoped.

After eating, Sidney had insisted on clearing the plates by himself, making you roll your eyes fondly but accept a gentle kiss as he walked past. You could at least get the two of you a fresh glass of wine each. You were tired, not incapable. So with that in mind, you picked up the two empty wine glasses and followed your boyfriend into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pick out the open bottle of white wine he’d opened earlier.

But just as you finished filling the glasses, you felt a pair of arms slide around you from behind, making you jump slightly, earning a soft laugh.

“Menace,” you complained fondly, putting the wine bottle down on the side.

“Couldn’t help myself, I needed you in my arms,” Sidney said simply, squeezing you in a little hug.

You leant back into his chest, smiling to yourself. How could you say no to that? The two of you stayed silent for a few more moments, just enjoying the comfort of this embrace, until Sidney sighed softly.

“You make me want things I didn’t think I could have,” Sidney murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

What the hell?

You spun around in his arms straight away, the frown on your face making Sidney laugh softly.

“What things? And who says you can’t have them?” you demanded.

“Always so protective,” he mused.

You batted at his chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious Sid! What do you mean, things you can’t have?”

He bit his bottom lip, making your frustration soften a little. This was something he’d really thought about, wasn’t it?

“I just…I never expected to find someone while I was still playing hockey,” Sidney started.

What the hell? He was just going to wait, until he eventually retired? What?! But as you opened your mouth to protest, Sidney pressed a finger to your lips, a fond smile on his.

“No, I know what I’m like. My routines are so set in stone, I’m away so often, I have so many more responsibilities as Captain and well, just because I’m me. I was told from a young age that anything other than hockey was a distraction. So I just…shelved the idea. Didn’t even let myself hope,” Sidney explained.

“Sid…that’s so sad,” you said softly, clutching at his sweater with both hands, “to just resign yourself to being lonely, I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can’t say it hasn’t paid off with hockey,” he mused, “and besides…I met you, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip, your face heating up warm, Sidney’s hand rising to run a knowing thumb over your cheek.

“So I wasn’t a distraction?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, you absolutely were,” Sidney said, laughing softly, making your heart sink a little. He saw your hesitant expression, and shook his head. “It was a distraction that I didn’t know I needed. You help me break out of my intensity, to separate the rink from home. Without you, I would just eat, breathe, sleep hockey, and meeting you made me realise that I can have hockey and love. You give me a reason to live, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that,”

You couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to your eyes, nor the smile that spread across your lips. “Sidney…” you murmured helplessly.

“Thank you. For making me whole. For making me a better person,” he said seriously, hand still cupping your face so you couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.

Your heart clenched at his words, and there was nothing you could think of to say that needed to be added. So you just lifted your head and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that said everything.

A good run of games, with far more wins than losses, always put your boyfriend in a good mood. So good, that after the latest game, which was another win where he’d gotten 2 goals and 1 assist, he’d even suggested going out for drinks. You were more than happy to agree – not that you didn’t love your evenings in with him, but sometimes it was nice to go out and try something new, y’know? These plans quickly turned into a couples’ drinks with Kris and Catherine, and Geno and Anna, and the six of you ended up in a private booth in a fancy cocktail bar.

You’d immediately ordered some lethal manhattan cocktails with Anna and Cath, leaving the guys to their own devices as the three of you toasted to the success of the men in your lives. As you surveyed the bar around you, you felt yourself relax a little. This was exactly you needed, with exactly these people. These two women had welcomed you so quickly into the Better Halves group, and you couldn’t be more excited to spend time with just them. Well, them and your rapidly tipsy partners.

It had only taken the three men a couple of hours to be giggling messes.

Kris, the troublemaker that he was, had indulged Sidney’s sweet tooth with so many sugary cocktails, that he was already pretty far gone, eyes glassy and skin flushed. Sure, he was going to feel it tomorrow morning, but the fact that he actually got the chance to let go, to just relax with his just closest friends? That was the most important thing.

How often did Sidney get the chance to do that?

The six of you were still in the booth, Geno having just come back with a fresh round of cocktails, and Sidney was started to lean against you a little heavier, making you frown slightly.

“Hey, are you good?” you asked softly.

Sidney leaned back to look at you properly, hair a little ruffled and his top two buttons undone, distracting you slightly.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…and I’ve held the Stanley Cup three times,” Sidney slurred, his lips stretched in that beautiful crooked grin.

Kris, Cath, Geno and Anna all just burst into laughter, making you laugh too.

“I’m serious! The cup is so beautiful…but you, you are the most,” Sidney said firmly.

“He’s serious,” Kris snickered, “crisse Sid, what a romantic,”

The sarcasm just made Sidney pout. Bless him.

“Okay I think it’s time for some water,” you giggled.

“Oh no please, let him carry on. It’s been so long since drunk Sid made an appearance,” Kris grinned.

“Drunk Sid is most fun!” Geno added, nodding enthusiastically.

You looked back at your boyfriend to see him still smiling at you like the sun, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting in your stomach. How were you supposed to react, when he looked at you so brilliantly? You didn’t have to look at Cath or Anna to know that they were smiling fondly at you – you’d had enough wine nights with them to know how sweet they thought Sidney was with you.

“He may be fun now, but he’s going to be an absolute grump tomorrow and you know it,” you mused, shaking your head.

“Won’t be grumpy,” Sidney insisted.

Oh jeez. “Yes you will,” you teased, “But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide,”

“You think I’m cute?” Sidney said happily, before looking at his teammates, “she think I’m cute!”

That just sent Kris and Geno into fits of laughter again, making you sigh fondly. Oh he was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

Worth it though.

The summer brought you back to Nova Scotia with Sidney. Well, you’d taken two weeks off work in August to be able to spend Sidney’s birthday with him, but you were so glad you did. Spending some proper time with his parents and with Taylor was so worth it, and you didn’t miss the little smiles he sent your way when he thought you weren’t looking – Sidney loved you being home with him just as much as you loved it.

The best part though, was definitely waking up to that sleepy morning sunlight, the lake only a stone’s throw away, Sidney warm and content and at peace.

“Mm happy birthday Sid,” you murmured sleepily, curling further into his body.

“Shh, if my body doesn’t know that I’m getting older then I won’t get any more grey hairs,” Sidney groaned, not opening his eyes.

You just giggled, running a hand over his bare chest. What a drama queen.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, baby,” you teased, “you know I like your grey hair, the little grey of it that there is,”

What? You did!

Sidney lifted his head to look down at you incredulously. Of course that was what made him wake up properly.

“You like it?” he frowned.

“It makes you look…distinguished. It’s…sexy,” you shrugged. There was no reason to lie to him after all.

“Sexy?” he laughed, rolling his eyes.

Oh now that wouldn’t do. You slotted your leg between his thighs, moving to hover him slightly where he was lying on his back, waiting until he was looking at you properly. He swallowed heavily at the seriousness in your expression. Good.

“Yeah, Sid. It’s sexy,” you said softly, “you’re sexy. Clearly I need to tell you that more often,”

Sidney’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours as he processed your words.

“If I’m so sexy, then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The desire in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to grin. You leant your head down to kiss him softly, leaning up on your elbow for a better angle. Sidney groaned softly at the sweet kiss, one hand sliding into your hair with the other resting on your waist. You kept the kiss slow, gentle, intense, with only light brushes of your tongue, taking your time to enjoy yourself. You loved early mornings like this, when it was just the two of you with nothing to do for hours, and today you had nowhere to be until well into the afternoon, so you were going to indulge yourself with these kisses while you could.

Eventually you broke away, lips feeling as swollen as Sidney’s looked. Wow.

“Is that better?” you mused, stroking the hair at his template.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s all I get?” he murmured, “on my birthday?”

Tease. You licked your bottom lip, Sidney’s eyes flashing darker, and you rolled off of him, tugging your sleep-top over your head and lying down sultrily on your back. Sidney’s eyes immediately fell to your bare chest, yours flicking down to the hard line of his cock in his boxers, before you grinned.

“Get over here birthday boy…” you purred.

Sidney didn’t waste another second.

Sometimes things weren’t perfect. Sometimes Sidney had a string of bad games where he got too much into his own head. Sometimes he wouldn’t communicate in any more than a couple of words or grunts. Sometimes you had to prioritise a work deadline over time with him. Sometimes things between the two of you were extremely tense until one (or most often, both) of you cracked and talked it out.

But that’s what made your relationship work – the talking. Being with Sidney meant being in such a mature adult relationship, and it was refreshing to be able to work through things with a guy that wasn’t just going to fly off the handle or sulk around. Sure, Sidney had his faults, but he always tried not to take his frustrations out on you. You knew that the highs of dating a hockey superstar came with the lows too – you knew that when you agreed to go on that very first date way back when, but he’d proved time and time again that he was worth it. He was always worth it.

Right now, Sidney…no, the Penguins had been on a bad luck streak, and you could see the pressure piling up on your boyfriend, from management, from the press, from the fans, from himself. But not from you. There was no way you were going to add to his stress, not when he needed your support more than anything.

And you knew he appreciated more than anything else.

Like today, for example.

Sidney had turned up at your apartment a couple of hours earlier than you thought, having come straight from the airport rather than going to his house first, just looking bone-tired. So you’d immediately drawn him a bath with your favourite lavender-vanilla bath bubbles, Sidney insisting that you join him too.

Well, you weren’t going to deny him that.

So that’s where the two of you were now, you lying between Sidney’s legs, your back leaning against his chest, your hands clutching at his forearms where his arms were wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You just smiled softly, tilting your head back to press a kiss to his jaw before leaning into him again.

“I’m just sorry we’re doing this in my shitty apartment rather than your lovely bathroom,” you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re at your place or mine. You’ve always felt like home,” Sidney murmured.

Oh god, if your heart could be any more full it would be. Wow.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you said softly, not wanting to break the moment, “I’ll always be here for you,”

Sidney smiled into your neck, pressing the lightest of kisses into your skin, making you shiver despite the temperate of the water.

“I mean it, you are my home and I couldn’t be more grateful. You’ve shown me what love feels like, sweetheart,” Sidney murmured, “I love you,”

You tried desperately to blink away the tears that sprung to your eyes, squeezing his hands. “I love you too Sid. So much,” you whispered.

As his arms held you a little tighter and he buried his face in your neck a little more, you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

Another morning, another day waking up in Sidney’s arms. No matter how many roadtrips he went on, countless by the point, it still felt weird sleeping in your own bed without him. Your apartment felt cold, felt empty, despite it holding all your possessions, but you knew that was just because it didn’t have him in it. When he was home in Pittsburgh, whether it was in your apartment or at his house, you had never slept better than when you were with him. You could only hope he felt the same.

“Good morning,” Sidney said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, leaning over to press a few gentle kisses to your lips before leaning back.

“That was a real serious face you had a moment ago,” Sidney said, lying on his side with his head propped up with his hand.

Busted. “I was just thinking,” you shrugged.

“What are you thinking about?” he mused.

“Nothing much. Just…”

You trailed off, biting your bottom lip. Sidney’s hand slid to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your trapped lip until you let it free.

“Just…” he prompted.

“I could get used to waking up beside you,” you blurted,

Sidney’s face looked a little stunned. Damn it. Was that too much?

But then his face shifted into the biggest smile you’d ever seen, making your hopeful heart beat a little faster.

“Why don’t we make that a reality?”

W-What?

Sidney saw the confusion in your expression and hesitated, before turning and reaching into the bedside drawer beside him. He paused slightly, as he grabbed whatever it was, making your heart beat a little faster. What was going on? But after a couple of beats, he rolled back over to face you, hand clenched in a fist.

“Move in with me?” he murmured.

He opened his fist, revealing a shiny key, making your jaw drop a little. Oh wow.

“For real?” you whispered, eyes not moving from the key.

“Yeah, for real,” Sidney mused, although you could hear the strain of nerves in his voice, “I would really love for this to be your home too. You already have a ton of your clothes here as well as make-up and your shower stuff…so why don’t we make this full time?”

You choked out a laugh – he did have a point there.

But was it too soon?

No.

“If it makes a difference, I’ve wanted to ask you for months,” Sidney admitted.

“You have?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re it for me,” he said simply.

He really did have such a way with words.

“I would love to, Sid,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” he grinned,

“Yeah. I want to build this life with you. So let’s do this,” you nodded.

Sidney whooped, making you giggle, and he dropped the key into the bedsheets in favour of pressing a deep kiss to your lips. Yeah, you could get used to this.

#my writing #sidney crosby #i love soft sexy sid so much #i want this SO bad #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #4+1

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: A long one because it was a fun one. My absolute favorite chapter!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, rape, blood and violence

Word Count: 6135

—————————————

Six: The Breakfast Club

“What are you thinking about?”

“H-Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling for the first time today. What are you thinking about?”

“...Stan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, I had slept through all of my alarms because when I awoke the next day, it was almost nine. Cursing aloud, I sprang out of bed and zoomed to my closet, ripping out any clothes I could find. Not having time to pull together something totally retro as per usual, I threw on a maroon hoodie, wedged into blue skinny jeans, and slipped on my white sneakers. I applied deodorant and stuck a piece of gum into my mouth before slinging my backpack on. The school was a fifteen-minute walk from my house. I was going to be so fucking late. I was skipping every other step on my way downstairs when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Whoa, you’re still here?”

On my right was Jacob, sitting in the living room and watching television. He stood from the couch and slowly approached me with a smirk. “What are you doing here still?”

“What are you doing here still?”

“I don’t have classes today, Bug,” He lightly teased before gently pushing me towards the door. “Let’s go before you miss anymore school. Hopefully, you don’t get detention.”

“I won’t, Jake.”

I did. As soon as I opened the door to my English class, all eyes were on me like a newcoming circus act. Ms Anderson’s eyes cut to me the second I stepped in and before I knew it, she was stomping towards me, gently ushering me out of the room with her. When we were alone, she crossed her arms and stared down at me. I felt like a child getting scolded for breaking an expensive vase or something. “(Y/N), this is your fourth tardy this month.”

“I know…”

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

There are so many things I need to talk about.

“No… I just… um… I-It’s been a rough few days…”

“Well, I would let this slide, but I’ve already broken the rules twice for you. I’m sorry, dear, but I’m going to have to give you detention. Okay?”

Dammit, Jake… “Okay, fine. Can I just go back to class now?” I sighed. My teacher nodded and opened the door for me. Stepping inside, I was met with the smiles of Dina, Stan and Ricky all directed towards me. I returned the smiles towards my two friends before taking my seat beside Dina. Throughout class, two eyes bore into the back of my head, and I tried my best not to turn and look at who they belonged to. He was catching on. On my way to choir, I heard Ricky calling out to me. He was pushing and shoving past students until he was by my side.

“Babe, what’s been going on with you?” He gently nudged me, but my eyes stayed trained forward. “Oh, so the silent treatment… Are you gonna tell me what I did or am I gonna have to figure it out?” Silence. “Right, okay. I get it. Hey, listen, when you’re out of your bitchy mood, make sure to come talk to me.” And with that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Letting out a breath, I slowed my pace along with the beat of my heart. I never wanted anyone to dictate the way I felt, the way my anxiety sky-rocketed when they were around. But it seemed I was letting Ricky do everything to me.

When lunchtime rolled around, I wanted nothing more than to eat my first meal of the day. All throughout English and choir, my stomach had been curling into itself and I felt stupid for not at least grabbing a granola bar before I left home. After grabbing my food, I joined Stan at a near-vacant lunch table. He had been mindlessly picking at his lunch when I sat across from him. “Good afternoon, beautiful.” I whispered. Hearing my voice, he didn’t need to look up.

“Hey, (Y/N)...”

“(Y/N)? Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, it’s just Syd. She won’t talk to me…”

A pang of jealousy went through my heart. Knowing we’d never talk about our kiss the other night didn’t prevent my wave of disappointment whenever he mentioned Sydney. I mean, how do you even kiss a girl and then talk about a totally different one days later? As much as I love Stan, he could be an idiot sometimes…

I hadn’t even noticed I was spacing out until his voice spoke loud enough for me to snap back into reality. He had been staring at me with raised brows, an expectant look on his face. “O-Oh, sorry… Uh, do you wanna hang out later? Like, when we get home?” I calmly asked, my eyes flickering to the fading bruise decorating his eye. He shifted in his seat and returned back to his lunch.

“Um… I’ll see.” He mumbled, my throat constricting at his words.

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

Whitaker watched me like a hawk as I turned into the girls’ restroom.

“Don’t think I don’t know that trick, (Y/L/N)! You better get to the gymnasium as soon as you’re done!”

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled and closed the door behind me. To be honest, I didn’t think he knew that trick and was absolutely planning on spending the entirety of my detention in the restroom. Letting out a sigh, I leaned against the wall and texted Jacob.

Me: I got detention. Pick me up at 7 please?

Jake: Haha! I’ll be there, don’t worry

Jake: And don’t try hiding out in the bathrooms. Whitaker knows that trick

Me: Noted

Pocketing my phone, I pushed the door open and trudged to the gym. Even with the doors closed, I could hear Whitaker screaming at whoever else was inside. With a small groan, I lazily used my body to open one of the doors, the principal’s voice quieting as the screech of the hinges echoed throughout the room.

“Ms (Y/L/N), I would have thought that after getting detention for tardiness, you’d learn to be more punctual. Take a seat!” Whitaker boomed. Rolling my eyes, I moved over to the bleachers, surprised to see Sydney, Stan, Brad, Dina and… Jenny Tuffield.

I could be irritated with people all I wanted, but I never completely ignored or even spat insults or such at them, unless they truly did something to hurt me or the ones I care about. Hence the reason I ignore Ricky. But Jenny brought out a side of me I really despised. It was a side of myself that thought of the worst things to say and spewed them out without hesitation, resulting in a back-and-forth war between the two of us. It usually ended with death threats and flipping the birds to each other, but we’ve never physically fought. That could change one day, who knows? I could feel her sickening smirk as I passed her to sit in front of Stan, who looked bewildered to see that I was here with him in detention. I patted his knee before turning back to Whitaker, who had been waiting for me to do as I was told. Satisfied, he continued on.

“Now that you all are here,” He cut me a look. “I want you to take the next few hours and think about your mistakes. And carve out in your mind a plan for change. Determine how to improve yourselves. Define what the word ‘respect’ means to you.”

Get a job, dude…

“Now you can start by respecting this beautiful gymnasium. Between now and seven p.m., you’re gonna scrape up every goddamn piece of gum from the bleachers,” He stepped forward and slammed a box down in front of us, no doubt full of the tools needed for our manual labor. The six of us all rolled our eyes as Whitaker stepped back again. “Get started.”

“Uh, Mr Whitaker, sir,” I heard Stan from behind me. “Um… Will there be a break for snacks or dinner?”

Silence was his answer. Whitaker stared at Stan as if he’d just asked him to lick his shoes before exiting the gym. From behind me, I felt him lean forward towards Sydney, picking up on their very quiet and very short exchange.

“Hey, I’m really sorry-”

“No. I’m not talking to you, okay?”

Reaching over, I tugged on Stan’s jacket sleeve, the boy shuffling so that our faces were right beside each other. “What are you doing in here?”

“I called File a motherfucker.”

“You- What?”

“Okay,” Dina’s voice interrupted us, causing everyone to turn to her as she stood from her spot beside Brad. “I know none of us wanna be here right now, but I was thinking, if we divide and conquer the bleachers, maybe we could be done before seven and Whitaker will let us out early, so…” Her suggestion earned a smile from her boyfriend and a sarcastic remark from Jenny, who I nearly forgot even existed. She clapped her hands, everyone turning to her.

“Go team!” She mimicked your everyday cheerleader as Dina sat back down, a look of irritation on her face.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe you should be in prison.”

“Ooh. That’s my wet dream…” She drawled out, running her tongue over her top teeth. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away.

“I don’t know, guys,” Stan spoke up. “This gum has been here for decades. I don’t think Whitaker actually checks. It’s just a social experiment, like a simulation.”

“Oh. Well, someone’s been smoking their supply.” Brad quipped. I narrowed my eyes and was about to give a sly remark when Jenny interrupted.

“You know what?” She whipped her body around to face us all, that wicked smile stretched across her face. “I have an idea. Why don’t we play Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

I couldn’t help myself. “What are you, thirteen?” I snarled. Our fellow delinquents stared between us with unease. “You say it like we’re about to huff some fucking gasoline. Are you supposed to be some kind of badass?”

Her eyes slid over to me, her grin widening. “Awe, Zip, I haven’t spoken to you in so long, I thought you died…”

“I wish you died…”

“So, who goes first?” Her head snapped towards everyone else, her finger moving towards each person in the room. “Eenie… meenie… miney… Brad.” She whispered out. Brad looked towards his girlfriend.

“Guess if I had to-”

“No. Not another word.” Dina shook her head.

“Oh, what about you, Miss Goody-Goody? Or are you too afraid to play?” Jenny gave a fake pout.

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Cool then. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Stanley Barber… Mr Whitaker… and… Syd.”

“Well, clearly, I’m killing Whitaker.”

“So are you gonna fuck Syd or marry her?”

Dina exhaled through her nose before looking to her right, eyes locking with Sydney. “Total life goal to marry your best friend, if Syd’ll have me.” She softly spoke, bringing a small smile to my face at their soft exchange. Of course, though, Jenny had to ruin it.

“Oh, so then it’s you and Stan in an all-day bone sesh. Ugh, you little slut.”

So over the sound of her fucking voice, I threw my head back in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, Jenny, you are so fucking boring!”

“No need to tell him about it,” She laughed tauntingly. “I’m guessing you wanna go next, since you got my attention. Or are you saving all of the sex and marriage for your little boyfriend?”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ooh, where?”

Snapping, I slapped my hand down on the space beside me, my gaze set and locked on her. “No one gives a shit about you, Jenny!”

“And people care about you, Zip?! Where’s your fucking dad?!”

Fire in my eyes, I lunged towards her, but felt hands grabbing onto my shoulders and sitting me back down. The hands soothingly rubbed my arms as Jenny cackled. “Come on, (Y/N), it’s just all fun here… Now, for you, your very own Ricky Berry… Stan… and Dina.”

Scratching my cheek, I rolled my eyes so far back, I could feel them do a three-sixty rotation. “Fucking hell, you never give up. Fine, I’d marry Dina, fuck Stan, kill Ricky.”

Jenny lowly whistled as the hands on my arms slowly slid away. “But Zip, I thought you two were in love,” Her grin was something of evil as her brows bounced. “You guys had so much fun, fucking at his party. Oh! Or is it because you were drunk off your ass and he wasn’t?”

“Jenny, shut the fuck up-”

“No consent whatsoever… Boyfriend of the year…”

Having Jenny see me break down in front of everyone was not a moment in time I’d ever want to experience. She already got what she wanted, a reaction from me. She didn’t need a bonus. So, standing to my feet, I darted to the locker room, trying my best to block out Jenny’s laughing. I couldn’t help the tears that cascaded down my cheeks as I stood in front of one of the mirrors, hastily wiping them away.

Why are you letting her get to you? Why are you letting Ricky get to you? He can’t hurt you anymore, stop crying about it!

The creaking of the door sent my body into a stiffened, frozen state. That was, until I heard his voice, “Hey, lovely…” Turning my head to Stan, I sighed out.

“Hey, beautiful…” I sniffled as he made his way over to me. We stood in a comfortable silence, Stan understanding that I needed a moment to compose myself. “S-Sorry about that. You know I just fucking hate her guts-”

“No, I get it. We all hate her guts.” He cracked a smile. I quietly chuckled and stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets. “Do you wanna talk about it, (Y/N)?”

“Not really… I don’t wanna think about it right now…”

“I know, but, like, it’s good to talk to someone about… you know, traumatic things that happen so it doesn��t bottle up-”

“Yeah, I know, Stan, I just can’t- I can’t think about it right now. We can do it, like, later… Not at school.”

He slowly nodded. “Totally. I understand. So… you ready to head back out? We’re not actually scraping gum. So we can just sit and talk.”

“I’d love to just sit and talk with you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone was spread out, Syd more than anyone. I had no idea where she’d gone, but apparently she stormed out shortly after I did. I guess Jenny knew how to get under everyone’s skin that day. Said girl was sitting against a brick wall away from the bleachers, where the other two pairs of us were. Brad and Dina were hugged up on each other, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly laughing. Stan and I were on the edge of the bleachers, the boy stretched across the one on the first level, and I on the second. As he fiddled with his rubix cube, my index finger reached out and gently traced his facial features. I started off with his brow, careful of his wound on the edge. It was clearing up and that caused a smile to appear on my face. Next, I let my fingertip brush across his lashes and he furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his cube. My finger then glided down the bridge of his nose. I quietly laughed when his eyes comically crossed to look at my finger. With a giggle, Stan jutted his chin upwards to gently kiss my fingertip. “Stop distracting me.”

My hand lazily dropped to his hair as I whispered out an apology. Not too long afterwards, I heard a voice quietly call out Stan’s name, but he was too fixated on his toy. My eyes looked to Sydney, who was standing in the doorway, desperately trying to get the boy’s attention. When she called out to him again, he actually looked at her. Looking between the two of us, she frantically motioned for Stan to come outside. When he only raised a brow, she did it again. Letting out a sigh, he wordlessly handed me his cube before sitting up and following Syd out of the gym, closing the door behind him to allow them privacy. Puffing out a sigh, I began playing with the multicolored cube in my hands. I never was very good with rubix cubes, my patience always ran too thin to finish them. That time didn’t seem to be an exception, either, because minutes in, I set it down and rested my head down to hopefully sleep off the rest of detention.

As I began to doze off, I heard the double doors screech upon Sydney’s arrival. She anxiously walked past me over towards the other side of the gym, where Dina and Brad had moved to suck face. I heard her call out to her friend a few times before she loudly spoke, “Look, Dina, I need a tampon right now.”

“Just dig in my bag.”

“I… I do need you, but for… but for something else.” She stuttered out. And with that, the two exited the gym. Suspicious about what my friends were plotting without me, I slowly sat up from my lying position and sat normally on the bleacher, waiting for one of them to come back. Hearing footsteps approach me, I knew it either had to be Brad or Jenny, and I was praying to the stars it was the former. As unusual as it sounded. The bleacher moaned under Brad’s weight as he sat beside me.

“Hey, Zip,” He greeted with a smile. I side-eyed him for a second before turning my gaze to my shoes. Scoffing, he shifted his legs. “You’re ignoring me now? Oh, come on. We’re friends, Zip. Good friends.”

“We are not friends, Bradley,” I almost laughed. “You’re friends with Ricky and I want nothing to do with him, so… I guess you know where the two of us stand.”

“Okay, well… Regardless, as Ricky’s best friend, I can say for him that what he did was fucked up. Right?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Right! But listen, we all make mistakes, Zip. Ricky really loves you, you know that, right? He would never do anything to hurt you.”

I was silent for a bit, only to prevent myself from decking Brad in the nose. “Well, he clearly didn’t love me enough. Not enough to respect my right to consent-”

“Zip-”

“And you know what, Brad?” I slowly stood to my feet. “I’ve had enough of you defending everything he does! You can tell Ricky to get lost and leave me the hell alone!”

Before he could utter another word, I marched straight through the double doors. Three figures stood ahead, and I was more than ready to push past them, but I recognized each of them. Halting in my tracks, I saw Dina, Syd and Stan all nervously staring at me. Confused, I put my weight on both my feet. “Uh… what’s going on?”

Dina was the first to answer. “We… need your help distracting the janitor to get his keys.”

“W-What? Why?”

“Well, Stan and Syd hooked up in the library and got it on camera-”

“You guys hooked up again?” I turned to my best friend, who quickly turned to Sydney. She frowned and stood up straighter.

“You told her?”

“S-She’s my best friend! She tells me when she has sex!”

Widening my eyes, I let out a scoff. “I had sex, I don’t have sex.”

“Well, whatever, can you do it?” Sydney changed the subject. I looked between the three in confusion.

“Okay, but why me?”

“Because you have boobs. Like, a nice size.”

“Uh-”

“And,” Dina cut in. “Because you’re a great actress. The best out of all of us.”

My lips quirked up into a small smile, Dina satisfied that she boosted my confidence enough for me to accept. Lucky for them, my locker was just across from the gym, so I unlocked it and pulled out a spare tee. ‘Can’t seduce anyone wearing that’, Dina told me.

Shortly after, Stan and I were in a corner as I changed my top. He was nervously staring down at his shoes as I pulled my hoodie off. “I didn’t want you to be the distraction. Are you sure you’ll be okay doing this?”

“I’m not seducing him, Stan,” I chucked my hoodie towards him. He looked up to catch it, but as soon as his eyes raked over my almost bare chest, they darted downwards again. “That’s just a back-up plan.”

“O-Oh, okay…” He nodded as I pulled my shirt on.

Minutes later, I entered the classroom Carl the Janitor had been cleaning. He looked up at me and nodded. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Carl. Listen. So, I kinda snuck out of rehearsal earlier and I need to get back into the auditorium. But guess what? The door’s locked. I really don’t want Ms Turner to find me out. Do you think you could help me? Please?” I tapped my fingertips together as he sighed.

“You know I can get in trouble doing that…”

“I-I know, but it would mean so much to me. I promise I won’t get you caught.”

“Well, what about the back entrance? She never locks those doors.”

He was right. Clearing my throat, I looked to the side. “W-Well, she did today…”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion for what felt like forever before relenting, handing his ring of keys over. “Okay, just get them back to me in twenty minutes.”

“You’re the best, thank you.” I grinned and stepped out of the room. Swinging around the corner, I found Dina and Syd waiting for me. Upon my arrival, they both grinned. “Nothing wrong with asking politely, ladies. We got less than twenty.” I cheekily smiled, handing the keys over to Sydney. Dina chuckled and crossed her arms as I took my hoodie from Syd and pulled it back on.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is quite simple.” Stan’s voice appeared as he approached us, two microwavable burritos in his hands.

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

“First, we distract Whitaker with burritos. I’m gonna put these in the microwave and blast these bad boys up on high, and then…”

The explosion muffled by the closed door was enough to get Mr Whitaker rushing out of the teachers’ lounge. “What the hell- What the hell is goin’ on down there?! Jesus!”

“...Whitaker will hear it and come runnin’. When he takes off from the teachers’ lounge, the coast’ll be clear straight through to the principal’s office, and then we make our move.”

As the principal moved past the closet we were all hiding in, Stan slowly opened the door, giving the four of us the chance to run out. As Dina and I silently followed Whitaker, Stan and Syd headed towards his office, keys in the latter’s hands.

“Syd, you’re the key man… Key lady.”

“Wait, why am I the key lady?”

“Because you’re… good with your hands.”

“Ew.”

“Dina and (Y/N), you two are lookout. You keep eyes on Whitaker.”

I crouched down and peeked around the corner as Dina did the same right above me. Whitaker had just opened the door to the microwave, the smoke engulfing him as he coughed and fanned it away.

“The burrito bomb should keep him busy for awhile.”

The two of us watched in amusement as he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the fire emergency supplies and sprayed it into the closet.

“That man cannot resist a fire extinguisher, which will give us the time we need to get in. Burrito bombs are disgusting. Last time I set one off, my whole house smelled like bean farts.”

“True story.”

“Gross.”

Sooner than we expected, Whitaker took off from the crime scene in a hurried pace. Dina and I quickly rushed towards our friends, the girl waving her arms in the air as I readied the door to the closet for us.

“Anything goes wrong, lookout crew, you signal us… and everyone take cover.”

Once Stan and Syd noticed Dina, they scurried off down the hall to hide. I pulled Dina into the closet with me and silently closed the door as we crouched down.

“That is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s fair. It’s totally fair. Can you think of a better one?”

…

“Our best hiding spot’s probably behind the trophy case. And we wait…”

A collective sigh of relief filled the closet as the savior ringing echoed through the halls.

“...for the smoke alarm. Which will buy us more time. Which we will need, because there are a shit-ton of keys. Like a metric shit-ton, it’s ridiculous.”

After our principal took off away from his office again, the closet door slowly creaked open as Dina and I watched Syd and Stan successfully enter the principal’s office.

“Once we’re in, we head straight for the security system in the closet. And that’s it!”

The smoke alarm cut off its insistent ringing within seconds. My heart thumped in my throat as Whitaker’s form stormed down the hallway, towards his office in angry strides. Thankfully, Syd and Stan ducked down before he caught sight of them. As soon as he passed us, I gently nudged Dina out of the closet. “Go create some big distraction that’ll lure him away,” I whispered under my breath. “I’ll keep him from the door.” I stood up straight as Dina nodded and silently hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

“Whatever you do, do not panic. Do not bail… or we are screwed.”

Whitaker was seconds from the door and I had yet to come up with a way to get him distracted again.

“Okay, but what happens if your plan goes to shit?”

Finding the key on his ring, he began jiggling it into the lock.

“It won’t.”

I stepped out of the closet, breathing labored in panic.

“But what if it does?”

When the lock sounded, I let out an ear-splitting scream that had Whitaker jumping three feet in the air. When his gaze settled on me, he marched my way, steam practically shooting from his ears. “(Y/L/N), what the hell is the matter with you?!”

“U-Uh- Uh, something happened down that way!” I blurted out, pointing down in Dina’s direction. His head followed my finger before it snapped back to me.

“Well?! What ha-”

A crash sounded.

“Improvise.”

The poor man shook his head in exhaustion. “I’m too goddamn old for this shit…” He whined before taking off down the hall, away from his office. Once the coast was clear, Syd and Stan peeked up, watching as I gave them a thumbs-up. They gratefully smiled my way before standing and finishing the job.

“And if all goes well, as it should, we grab the footage, our sexcapade remains private, and nobody gets expelled.”

My shoulders sagged as Sydney walked out of the office with Stan behind her, holding up the flashdrive in her hand.

“Let’s hope this shit works.”

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

It totally worked. After our brilliant scheme, the four of us sat in front of the lockers to rest, my form sandwiched between Stan and Dina. He kissed the flashdrive and let out a breath. “Oh, I thought we were screwed…”

“We were screwed, but holy shit, we did it.” Dina quietly laughed along with the rest of us.

“Thank you guys,” Sydney smiled, the three of us turning to her. “Seriously.” She chuckled as I reached my hand over to Stan’s pocket. Catching onto what I was doing, he fished his case out himself.

“Wonderful idea, Nugget,” He pecked the back of my hand with his lips before I could move it away and slid a joint from his case. “Any takers?”

“You’re not serious.” Dina frowned as Stan took out his lighter. He nodded to her with furrowed brows.

“He is.” I grinned fondly at my best friend as he lit up the end of his joint and inhaled the smoke before handing it over to me. I happily accepted it and took a hit as Dina glanced around us, hoping no adults were around to witness the scandalous act. She choked out a laugh when Sydney accepted the joint from me.

“Since when do you smoke weed?”

Sydney slyly smiled and stretched the smoke over to her, my own hand taking it to give her better access. “Oh, come on, Dina. Everyone’s doing it. Don’t you wanna be cool like us?” We all giggled and watched as Dina hesitantly took a hit from the joint. Her own snorting encouraged our laughter to increase, the four of us blissfully unaware of what lay ahead of us just in the locker room down the hall.

We sat in that hallway for the next half hour, talking about everything and nothing as our time of release approached closer. When the joint was finished, we entered the gym to enjoy our fading highs in peace. Dina headed over to the bleachers, and Stan and I sat on the bench beside the locker room, as Sydney headed inside to use the bathroom. The two of us sat in a comfortable silence as he shifted the colorful columns of his cube. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, and soon after, I felt his head rest against mine. “So… are you gonna need a ride home?” He whispered.

“No. Jake is picking me up.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Um… now do you wanna talk about how you’re doing? I know that, like, we’re still in school and we’re not entirely alone, but I just wanted to see how you were after you had to-”

“I’m doing better,” I interrupted his rambling. “Thank you.”

His hands froze their fiddling before one shyly crept close to mine. I felt his fingers graze my thigh as he interlocked our fingers in a tight hold. “Of course, Nugget.” He muttered right as Dina walked to the door to the locker room, giving me a smirk before walking inside. Stan then held up his rubix cube and chuckled. “Wanna try and solve it together?”

“Oh, my god, yes.” I laughed. And with that, we were using our free hands to turn and shift the cube around, hushed laughter filling the gymnasium as we told each other ‘no, not that way’, ‘turn the blue one’, and ‘yeah, yeah, that one’ for the next minute and a half of peace. Once our time was up, the door to the locker room slammed open and a teary-eyed Dina stormed out, a frantic Brad behind her.

“Babe, wait, please. Syd’s lying, I swear to god! Please! She’s lying!” As Dina walked out of the gym, Whitaker walked in, watching her go. “You’re not seriously breaking up with me right now!”

“Hey! Which one of you punks eats burritos?” Our principal shouted, Stan and I stifling our laughter in each other’s hair and shoulder. “Alright, I don’t know what the hell went on tonight, but I wanna see everyone in my office first thing in the morning!” He gave us one last look before exiting again. As soon as he was gone, Brad turned to Syd with a clenched jaw.

“I offered you a truce, and you fucked it up. This is on you. You remember that.” He pointed at her before angrily stomping out. Stan and I detangled ourselves from each other as Jenny walked out of the locker room with crossed arms.

“Ah, another day in paradise,” She looked between the three of us as her smile faded. “So, you guys wanna get wasted?”

I scoffed. “Fuck off, Jenny.”

Waving Stan and Syd goodbye minutes later, I joined Jacob in his car. He smiled over at me as I clipped my seatbelt on over myself. “So? How boring was it?”

“Oh, a total fucking snoozefest.” I rolled my eyes, my cousin chuckling and pulling off towards our home. Halfway through the car ride, I heard him turn down his music and sigh.

“Bug, what’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” I turned to him with raised brows.

“You’re… You’re different. You’re quiet, you skip dinner sometimes, you’re sleeping in. You never do that, especially the quiet part. Jesus, you’re so loud-”

“Okay, asshole, I get it!” I laughed quietly before going completely silent again. Not realizing I proved his point, I jumped when he poked my arm.

“See? Something’s wrong with you. What is it? Is it Ricky?”

“I-” I don’t know why I wanted to keep the whole situation a secret. Things like this needed to come into light and Ricky deserved to be exposed. Sensing my hesitancy, Jacob nodded.

“There we go. What did he do this time? Did he forget an anniversary? No? Did he… cheat?” Silence. “Did he do worse?” My eyes darted away. “(Y/N), did he do worse…?”

“I don’t know if I should say, Jake-”

“You absolutely should say it, (Y/N). Did he hit you?”

“No.”

“No? Did he… you know, touch you?” His tone softened as tears welled up in my eyes. “Bug, what happened…?”

“H-He raped me…” I cried and covered my face. “I got drunk on his birthday and he took advantage of it. A-And then he lied and said we were both drunk. B-But everyone else said he wasn’t even drunk.”

A beat of silence passed before the roar of the engine slid in pitch. I looked up at the houses and street signs that flew past us in a blur. “J-Jake, what are you doing?!”

“We’re gonna pay Ricky a visit.”

Before I knew it, we were in front of Ricky’s house. Jacob silently released himself from his restraint and exited the car. I sunk down in my own seat as I watched Ricky walk out of his home and towards his car. Upon seeing Jacob, he happily waved, but his smile vanished when Jacob decked him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. My breathing sped up as I jumped out of the car, speeding over to the two. “Jake! Stop!” I screamed as he straddled Ricky, landing punch after punch on his face. Ricky cried out and tried to push him off, but it was no use. Jacob was so much stronger than him. I knew pulling on him and screaming at him would do nothing, so I looked up and turned all around, watching as some neighbors peeked out their windows and front doors to watch the scene unfold. When I heard a crunch, I whipped back towards them and almost hurled at the bloodied mess that was Ricky’s face. “Jake, come on!” I screamed and pulled him off.

Stumbling to his feet, Jacob grabbed Ricky by his collar and lifted him close. “I don’t ever wanna see you near her. I don’t wanna hear that you spoke to her, I don’t even wanna know that you looked at her,” He growled, Ricky frantically nodding. “Don’t ever associate yourself with my sister ever again or I will make sure your eyes are swollen shut next time. Got it? Got it?!”

“Yes.” Ricky wheezed out before he was dropped to the ground.

“We’re going home, Jake! Jake, let’s fucking go home!” I screamed and ran to his car, getting in the driver seat. Chest heaving, he strode back over to the car and got in the passenger seat, sighing heavily as I drove away, leaving behind a groaning Ricky. I hadn’t even noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles until I parked the car. Like a worried mother, I helped him out and over to the front porch.

“Hey, lovely!” I heard Stan call out. Looking up, I saw that he and Syd were just about to enter his house. “Do you wanna-”

I fished out my keys and hurriedly unlocked the door, pushing my cousin inside and shutting the door behind us. After ordering him into the bathroom, I found some bandages and hydrogen peroxide and joined him inside. The next few minutes were spent in silence, save for the soft hisses that escaped him when I dabbed the chemical onto his cuts. As I wrapped his hands, I felt his eyes on me. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“If he tries anything ever again, tell me immediately.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious,” He ducked his head down to meet my eyes, his own shining with unshed tears. “I promise you, he won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m around.”

Setting down the blood-covered cotton ball, I nodded and allowed my lip to quiver.

“I know.”

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt x reader #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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izzielizzie · 3 years

Note

Milhouse by Maisie Peters for Pip and Ravi?

Under the cut

I think it's all gonna work out And I thought that yesterday and when I was sixteen

Pip, Connor, and Cara sit at Pip’s kitchen table the day after Jamie is found. They try to talk, once or twice, but it drifts into nothing before any of them can figure out the end of their sentences.

“I’m sorry, Pip,” Connor says.

Pip shakes her head at him, her way of telling him he has nothing to apologize for. She’s not quite sure what he’s talking about: Stanley or Max or what, but she wants to kick herself.

And both of those times it didn't, but

She truly thought that everything was going to be okay. Maybe she should have learned from last time, but some things just can’t be predicted. When Pip’s doorbell opens, no one bothers to answer it, and when Josh runs to get it, Pip doesn’t even bother to warn him about checking first before answering. She just doesn’t think she can talk over the scream building up inside her. When Ravi enters the room, clapping Connor on the shoulder and squeezing Cara’s hand gently, Pip doesn’t even notice. She’s trying so hard to not break down that she doesn’t even feel Ravi wrapping her in his arms, putting her back in place. She wraps her arms around him instinctively.

I think it's all gonna work out

With a sigh, Pip rests her head on his shoulder, his chin digging into the top of her head, and for the first time since yesterday, she closes her eyes.

Don't need a blood moon or a horoscope to tell me That this time will be different

“We’ll get Max in jail,” Ravi whispers into her hair, and to Cara and Connor too.

Pip just tightens her arms around him, letting herself believe that again, just for a moment.

A little drop of honey and the picture's clearing up

Pip sneezes as she reviews the witness statements from the calamity parties.

“Are you sick?” Cara asks, concerned.

“Nah, it’s just -” Pip interrupts herself to sneeze again. “Seasonal allergies.”

Wordlessly Ravi stands from the table and heads to the cabinet over the sink where he pulls out the bottle of honey. Pip doesn’t question how he knows the layout of her kitchen, or why he’s squeezing the honey onto a spoon. He hands it to her.

“Eat it, it’ll help.”

Pip takes the spoon.

“Why?” Connor asks as he watches Pip slowly eat the honey.

“Something to do with pollen, I’m not sure. My mom uses this trick, it always helps.”

Pip extends her leg and tucks her foot under Ravi’s thigh in a silent thank you.

Cup of coffee spilling over Oh, cleaning all my cards

Three days later, Pip puts a cup of coffee on the table next to Ravi, the drink sloshing onto the counter, staining the corner of the picture Ravi is looking at.

“Careful Sarge,” he says, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. She drops into his lap. “Can’t stain the pictures.”

“Technically, coffee is an abrasive, so really, you should be thanking me.”

Ravi rests his head on her shoulder. “Only you’d know that.”

A pessimist by nature, but in you baby I trust

Pip watches as Ravi hops around her room, grinning at her. “Pip this is a lead. A real lead!”

“I know,” Pip says with a grin as she reads the interview Ravi convinced a previously reluctant witness to give.

Ravi stops hopping. “You think that? Really? I thought you said you weren’t going to hope about this.”

“I know, but, I trust you.”

Ravi grins at her, his eyes crinkling in a way that makes her heart ache.

“And I’m so proud too.”

Oh, everything's coming up Milhouse

Ravi pulls her up from the bed and pulls her into a tight hug. “Pippa, I prouder of you than you can ever be of me.”

Pip hugs Ravi so tightly he has to physically push her away to breathe, laughing as he does.

I think it's gonna be good news 'Cause you deserve it and we're somewhat decent people

“This just a preliminary hearing,” Pip keeps reminding Cara and Connor as they sit in front of the TV.

“We know,” Connor says. Pip wasn’t sure Max would have been tried again, since double jeopardy wasn’t allowed, but a new girl had stepped forward.

“You keep telling us,” Cara adds.

“She’s mostly reminding herself,” Ravi assures them as he pulls Pip into his lap. “This is going to work out. I know it.”

“Why?” Pip asks.

“Because we’re good people trying to do the right thing, and I think in the universe will acknowledge that.”

Or at least trying to be

“I hope so,” Pip says, thinking briefly of Stanly before pushing the thought away by pulling Ravi’s arms from is side, wrapping them around her torso.

And the world is awful and the ice caps they are melting

“Maybe we should tackle climate change next,” Connor says a few days later. They’re stuck in the limbo where they’ve done everything the could, but still know that it wasn’t enough.

Cara throws a kernel of popcorn at him to get him to shut up. He catches it in his mouth, chewing meditatively.

“Someone’s gotta fix the ice caps right?” he continues. He glances at Pip’s tired eyes and sighs. “It’ll work out,” he says as Ravi pushes through the back door.

But today you bought me flowers

Pip sees him hide something behind his back out of the corner of her eye.

“What is that?” Cara asks.

“A surprise for Pip.”

Pip looks up from the text book she’s been staring at for an hour to see Ravi holding a bouquet of pink roses. Her favorite. She laughs as the takes them from him, instantly smelling them.

So, I'm choosing to believe

“Maybe it will work out,” Pip says, her voice dry as she leans up to kiss Ravi.

“What?” he asks.

“Talking to Connor.”

The future is a wishing well And I'm gonna invest

After Cara and Connor leave, Pip finds herself stretched out on the couch next to Ravi.

“Do you think this will stay the same when we’re older?” she asks, apropos of nothing.

“Murder and other unpleasantries? I sure hope not.”

“No, I mean us,” Pip says in her serious voice.

Ravi looks at her. “I think there can only be so many bad things in a person’s life. And we’ve hit the max.” Ravi laughs as he adopts his sailor voice. “It’s smooth sailing from here baby.”

Pip snorts. Secretly, she thinks of the world as a wishing well, where if she hopes enough, she’ll get something.

Throw a couple of pounds in Oh, lying on your chest

And she sure hopes that she’ll stay with Ravi forever. “I love you,” she mumbles as she rests her head on his chest. His hand moves to her back.

“I love you too Sarge.”

A pessimist by nature, but in you baby I trust

Pip and Ravi watch the next trial together, their fingers intertwined. “This will work out.”

Pip leans against him.

Oh everything's, coming up Milhouse

“I hope so,” she says, reaching up to fondly push his hair off his forehead.

Sorry it's strange that I'm crying

It takes three days for the verdict to come, and on the first excruciating day, Connor, Cara, and Pip find themselves in the center of town, getting ice cream. Unfortunately, Ant and Lauren are there too.

“Enjoying the free press?” Ant snickers as they leave the shop at the same time as the couple. The three of them are meeting Ravi for a walk, despite the rain, and they were all blocked from exiting by the newspaper reporter who had replaced Stanley.

Before any of them can answer, Ravi, who had reached them right as Ant spoke, pushes Ant against the wall.

“Here’s a suggestion Anthony,” Ravi says menacingly as Lauren tries and fails to push Ravi away. With a scoff Cara shoves Lauren into Connor. Ravi ignores them. “Stay away from Pip. I mean it. Stay the fuck away from her or else.” He releases Ant unscathed, and as they scamper away, Pip can feel the tears falling to fall onto her shirt. Connor notices first.

“Pip?”

Ravi sees and pulls her into a hug. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry” he repeats as he rocks her back and forth, Pip sobbing into his chest. Cara rubs her back.

Think it's because you're the one

“No, it’s not that,” Pip says as she pulls away. “I just can’t take this anymore. I can deal with all the comments, but from my friends? i can’t.”

“They’re not your friends, not anymore,” Connor says darkly.

“We are,” Cara adds. Pip sniffles and nods.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She wipes her eyes and turns to Ravi. “Thank you for defending me.”

Ravi drops into an exaggerated bow. “Anything for you Trouble.”

I think it's all gonna work out And I thought that yesterday and when I was sixteen

Pip, Cara, Ravi, and Connor pile onto Pip’s bed as the verdict comes in. She thinks about the way she felt the first time around.

And both of those times it didn't

She was broken when she heard Max’s first verdict. Maybe she had always been broken, but that was the first time she felt it.

But a little drop of honey and a little glass of rain

And as she squeezes Cara’s hand now, she realizes that in the past month or so, she’s slowly been put back together. She thinks of Ravi quietly handing her the honey because he knew she would work through anything and a little sniffle would be ignored entirely. She thinks about how he defended her against Ant without a second thought. She thinks about every quiet moment where Ravi helped her put her pieces back together. And she realizes how grateful she is.

Babe you'll be surprised, how much a girl can change

She turns to Ravi with a smile, and as she hears the announcer gear up to say the verdict, she knows that maybe this was always supposed to happen: she had to struggle to know what love and happiness feels like.

“I love you,” she whispers to Ravi as the announcer speaks:

“Guilty.”

#pip fitz-amobi #ravi singh #a good girl's guide to murder #good girl bad blood #spoilers #ish #izzielizzie's fics

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 40

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I don’t even know how this became 12k words. Anyways I hope to have 41 out in the next week, but be prepared. It’s dirty ;)

Chapter 40

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smut (oral male receiving) thigh riding

Word Count: 12,000

“Hey babe" you hear a raspy voice mumble.

“Hey" you smile closing the fridge door and are met with him leaning against the counter, arms crossed across his chest, fitted suit clinging to his frame. You bounce on your feet, Elise pressed against your chest squirming slightly having just ate.

“How was your nap?” you ask.

“Alright didn’t get much of one, mostly laid there.”

You pull a mug down and reach over to the fresh pot of coffee, pouring one for him.

“Thanks. Where are the boys?” he asks graciously taking the cup from you.

“Outside with your parents by the pool.” With the summer approaching and Fred’s parents down Oliver was very eager to get in the pool. Since opening it the only time you have been able to pull Oliver from the water was for Fred’s hockey, him being more fish than human most days.

“Daddy" you hear Oliver squeal followed by stampeding footprints.

“Hiya” he bends down to pick him up for a hug.

“I like your suit" Oliver says playing with his tie, pulling it out from behind the jacket.

“Thanks bud”

“Grandpa says he is going to take me to the game.”

While Ernst and Charlotte have alternated taking him to the games, tonight is the game. Tonight is game six of the Stanley Cup Finals. If they beat the Canucks tonight they win the cup, if they lose they play game seven in Vancouver in three days.

Charlotte stayed home a couple times with Elise so you could go to some games, but you have missed most of them caring for your newborn daughter. But it hasn’t been that bad, either you have had one of them home to help you with the three young ones. On a few occasions the two of them have gone taking all the boys leaving you with just Elise.

“Yeah daddy looks handsome” Charlotte says walking in. She sets Lucas on his feet, who wobbles for a few seconds on his uneasy legs before dropping to his bum and crawling over.

“Thanks ma" he chuckles bending down in his suit to be closer to Lucas’s level while setting Oliver on his feet. Next Ernst walks in, Noah clutching his fingers as he takes a few uneasy steps.

While neither boy on is walking on their own you are hopeful it will be soon. The idea of the two of them tripping over everything and getting hurt doesn’t excite you; but you hope Charlotte and Ernst get to witness it before heading back to Denmark after the playoffs.

“Woah” Fred calls reaching out to pick up Lucas as Noah guides Ernst towards him. He grabs him pulling him into his other hip earning a slight chuckle from the toddler, just before he stands up Oliver jumps on his back wrapping his hands around his neck.

“Oof" he laughs. “What were we thinking with a fourth?” he turns to face you. “Didn’t have enough hands when there was three babies.”

“You weren’t thinking” Ernst says with a smirk while Charlotte shoots him a glare. Ignoring his father’s comment he walks towards the couch, leaning forward to not drop Oliver. Once standing over it he leans backwards.

Oliver begins to laugh and squeal as his grip loosens before finally letting go and falling onto the couch. Fred gives both of the twins a kiss on their foreheads and sets them on the floor. The two of them make their way over to their toys and Oliver jumps back into Fred’s arms.

“Good luck daddy”

“Oh thanks buddy" he kisses his forehead. “I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

“Mhm" he nods with a big smile.

Next he heads over to his parents both of them wishing him luck before making his way to you.

“Good luck babe, you’re gonna do amazing" his lips press against yours. You run your fingers through his rough beard, it having grown substantially during the playoff run.

“Thanks" he reaches to put a hand on your waist, careful not to pull you in too tight with Elise between you and his lips press briefly against yours.

Pulling away he reaches to grab Elise and you coil away slightly. “Baby you look really nice in that suit, and your daughter has a tendency to puke after eating.”

“Its fine" he laughs grabbing her from you. Her legs stretch out with a slight cry. Once pressed against his chest his familiar scent calms her down and she begins suckling her mouth. He bounces slightly and presses her head against her chest. “She isn’t gonna puke on me" he runs a hand over her back as a small yawn falls from her lips.

“Oh you tired pretty girl" his lips press against her forehead. “Almost your nap time eh” he bounces her a few more times. At that moment you hear her little cough and Fred immediately stops moving her and looks down.

You smirk knowing you were right and Fred pulls her away and you see the vomit staining his white dress shirt and his navy blue suit.

“Don’t say it" he smiles.

“No idea what you’re talking about” you tease following him upstairs.

Once upstairs you take Elise to change her into a clean onesie while Fred switches his suit. Once changed you bring her back into your bedroom setting her in the bassinet, as she isn’t quite six weeks she still sleeps in the room with you both, likely will for a little while longer.

Fred walks out of the closet with his burgundy dress pants on. A crisp new white shirt is tucked tightly into his pants. So tight it hugs the curves of his muscles and you can see his abs through the stomach. He has the matching vest and jacket in his hand tossing them on the bed as he grips the black silk tie.

You take it from him running the smooth fabric through your fingers a few times before wrapping it around his neck. You slowly tie it, not breaking eye contact as you tighten it around his neck and fix his collar.

You rise to your tippy toes gently pressing your mouth against his pulse point, earning a breathy “thanks baby.”

You smirk in response his cologne flooding you as he leans around you to grip his vest and jacket.

“Very handsome Mr. Andersen” you adjust the tie as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeve.

“Fuck you’re something" he groans.

Ignoring his comment you reach around his neck, running your hands through his hair and pulling his lips down to yours.

“You’re gonna be amazing tonight.”

“I can’t convince you to come eh” he presses his lips against yours again; you can taste the minty mouthwash as his tongue spreads your lips and slides in.

Because of how young Elise is she hasn’t been to a game yet and you don’t think she should be at the game tonight. You considered getting Christie for the night but Elise hasn’t had a night without family and you just aren’t ready to do that yet.

Charlotte spent the last two days trying to convince you to go; and you really have gone back and forth. It’s not an easy decision choosing between being a supportive fiancé or your mom duties. Fred has talked with you about it briefly, but he can tell how hard it is for you. Not wanting to make your decision harder he didn’t press the issue.

When you finally decided you would stay home with Elise Charlotte immediately said she would stay with her, that you should be at the game. But you couldn’t do that to her. His parents would wake up early to drive him to practice, and gave up everything for their kids. Now Fred has the chance to win the biggest prize in hockey, something he never would have accomplished without them so you want them there.

“She is so little” you pull away eyeing to your sleeping daughter.

“She’ll love it” his mouth finds a spot under your ear gently nipping the skin. “She’ll be fine up in the family suite, all she is going to do anyways is sleep. She can do that in the suite.”

His hands trail down your body landing on your waist holding you close to his chest as your arms wrap around his neck. “Need my good luck charms there” he gently nuzzles his head into your collarbone “all of them.” His long beard itches against your skin as he nuzzles in deeper “my girls are a part of my good luck charm.”

“You’ve won games without us there” your hips roll forward groaning as he peppers you with soft kisses, your loose t-shirt easily falling off your shoulder to allow him more space.

“But it’s so much better when you’re there cheering me on” his hands slide around to the small of your back as he places soft kisses to your jaw. “No matter what happens I want you there, need you there.”

“I know babe” you whisper softly feeling tears prick your eyes. This is an impossible situation, you want to be there for Fred but Elise is still so young. You sniffle lightly against his chest and he pulls away sighing when he sees your face. His large hands easily cup your face and his thumb wipes away the few tears that have fallen.

“I’m sorry” you whisper rubbing your face against his hand as your eyes gently close.

“Hey no don’t cry” he presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m sorry babe.”

“I feel like I’m disappointing you” you say softly.

“Never” he holds you tight against him as a few slow tears roll down your cheeks. “You’re an amazing mom; I know it’s not easy. Maybe the birth of our next unplanned child will work better with my hockey schedule” he tilts your head to look into your eyes.

You chuckle slightly “no more unplanned babies” you say rolling your eyes blinking back some tears.

“What about planned babies” he smirks.

“Stop” you laugh through blurred lenses.

“There it is” he smirks seeing you smile. He brings his lips to yours briefly “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Your hands slide into his hair while his hands trail down your body. His tongue slips in your mouth and his hands grip your hips as the kiss changes from soft to hungry.

“You’ll be late babe" you mumble against his lips.

“I don’t care” he groans pulling you closer to him. He gives your ass a gentle squeeze and pulling you firmly against him. He presses his lips back to yours, his overgrown mustache slides into your mouth along with his tongue causing you to pull back.

“I can’t wait until this is gone” you laugh raking your nails through his beard. Through the years you have witnessed his playoff facial hair grow in, but they have never made it the finals before, so he hasn’t gone this long with trimming it. In the beginning he would shave away the few hairs that are high on his cheeks, to help keep the shape while the hair grew out. But part way through the second round he stopped and now his beard begins much higher on his cheeks than ever before.

“I was thinking of keeping it for the wedding” he presses his lips back on yours.

“No” you laugh pushing him off you shaking your head. “This” your index finger points to his facial hair “is not welcome at our wedding. Now get going.”

“See you when I get home” he smirks with one final soft kiss before walking out of the room.

“Mommy. Why are you wearing your jacket?” Oliver asks when you walk into the living room a little while later. You have on jeans with a while t-shirt under a black, white and yellow leather jacket with Andersen engraved in cursive font on the back. It’s a custom jacket that every WAG had made for the playoff run. The few games you have gone to you’ve either worn this or your jersey; but it largely has been unworn.

“It’s such an Important night for daddy I thought he’d want all of us there” you say as Charlotte smiles seeing you.

She walks over and wraps her arms around your neck “I’m glad you came to your senses dear, he will want you there no matter what.” Her lips gently press into your cheek and she pulls away “I love you Char" you wipe a tear from your eye.

“Is Elise coming too" Oliver asks as Charlotte smiles her response to your words.

“Yes" you walk into the pantry and pull out a bag you have hidden away that contains a small pink jersey you had custom made to fit her, complete with Fred’s number and daddy embroidered on the back. While you never intended for her to wear this to a game, you were planning on sending him a picture or video with her in it. “I got her this to wear, what do you think Ollie?”

He nods in agreement “mhm daddy will be so happy to see her.”

You find Elise in her swing, pulling the small jersey over her head. She stirs slightly in her sleep and Charlotte hands you a pair of noise cancelling headphones with a grin, she knew all along you would come.

The seven of you climb in the car, Fred having recently traded in the SUV for the seven seat Mercedes. While your old one fit the five of you, it didn’t have a sixth seat. This one can fit 7, so there is more space available for all of you since he refuses to have anything that resembles a minivan.

You all are heading down early. There are festivities in and out of the arena, but you know Oliver won’t be interested in them, too anxious for the game. And the other kids are too young to participate. But they do have a dinner in the family suite, and everyone will be excited to meet the newest addition to the Penguins family.

Once at the suite Elise is immediately pulled from her carrier and whisked off, being shuffled around by the other WAGS. With Ollie you used to try to object, but now you’ve just grown accustom to the babies being gone as soon as you walk in.

“I can’t believe you came" Kathy wraps her arms around you. “You were adamant in not coming a couple hours ago.”

“Please I couldn’t miss this" you pull back “or you. What are you now, 5 months?”

“Four and a half” her hand runs over her stomach.

“That’s so exciting, I’m so happy for you" your arms wrap back around you.

“Mhm" she hums her head turning to follow some food being brought in. You chuckle slightly and walk over with her; she’s practically drooling looking at the options.

“Hey Ollie" you call out having no idea where your son is in the room.

“Yeah mommy" he runs up beside you as you make him a small plate.

“Take your jersey off so you can eat” otherwise you know he would spill some ketchup down himself.

“I think she’s hungry" someone says handing Elise back to you just as you sat down.

“Do you need help?” Kathy asks watching as you adjust Elise under a blanket.

“Why? You want to feed me Kath?” you joke adjusting twirling spaghetti on a fork and bringing it to your lips.

“Well I mean if that’s what you need" she laughs “guess I should get used to feeding someone else.”

“You have time for that" you laugh. “But you do learn how to multitask very early on. I mastered the art of eating while I feed my baby pretty early with Oliver. Otherwise I would have starved.”

Fixing your clothes you pull Elise out and drape the blanket over your shoulder, not wanting to have to wear baby vomit for the rest of the night as you burp her before she dozes off again.

“Mommy! The skate is going to start" you hear Oliver notify you. Looking around you see some of the group has filtered out while they make their way down to the glass. Elise is asleep in your arms, pacifier in her mouth; grabbing his hand you make your way down.

Charlotte and Ernst both have one of the twins, and you would think having a sleeping new born and the oldest (who should be the best behaved) would be easier. But Oliver is trying to run down the hall, if he was much stronger he would be dragging you. Once at the glass you check that the headphones haven’t shifted from her or the twins and when you glance up some of the boys have stepped on the ice.

Fred steps on the ice and heads to the net, as he lifts his helmet he finds the group in the corner. Leaving his helmet on the net he skates over, you see the moment he notices you are there because his entire face lights up with the biggest smile. You carefully pull Oliver into your other arm so he can be closer to Fred.

He taps on the glass by the twins, their eyes lighting up and small laughs coming from them, Lucas clapping his hands as they see Fred in front of them. They have no idea what is happening but they always have the same reaction when they see Fred in his goalie equipment on the other side of the glass.

His large smile has yet to fade as he leans over to Oliver waving at him. Oliver holds a fist up and the two of them fist-bump through the glass; their pre-game ritual.

Next he shifts to you shaking his head still in somewhat disbelief. You see his lips moving; while you can’t talk hear through the glass you can tell what he is saying.

I can’t believe you’re here. I love you so much.

You mouth an “I love you” to him and adjust Elise so he can see the writing on the back of her Jersey. A large smile crosses his face as he waves goodbye and skates off, the seven of you returning to the lounge.

You do have actual seats, really good seats actually. But it’s easier with Elise and the twins to be up in the suite. It has space for the stroller, so whenever one of them falls asleep you can set them down in there. It will also be much quieter for everyone, and some comfort and privacy.

You offered to watch Elise and the twins upstairs so the others could watch from the actual seats, Charlotte said no. Wanting to help you so you aren’t left alone with three kids even though you have much experience with that already.

And Ollie said he wanted to stay with you, resulting in all of you upstairs along with a few others including Kathy.

The Canucks come out strong, as expected. Tonight is a must win if they want a shot at the Stanley cup. They easily dominate the first period, shots 10-3; though none have made it past Fred. Oliver is over the moon watching Fred in night. He commentates some of the plays to you and Kathy, yelling whenever Fred has a save.

“You ready for that" you laugh eyeing towards him as he jumps out of his seat for the first save of the second period.

“Honestly I don’t know how much time Sid has left to play” she sighs. “Peanut might not get to see him play, and if they do they surely won’t remember.”

You smile not wanting to push the topic further. As Sid has gotten older the question of his time in the league always comes up. Any time he gets injured or if he blows a play; it’s constantly coming up. Everyone knows this might be his last season, adding an extra layer into the team’s performance.

Part way through the second period a Penguins defenseman pinches to try and keep the puck in the Canuck zone. Brock Boeser beats him to the puck, banking it off the boards before starting off down the ice. The other defenseman takes off along with Pettersson creating a 2 on 1.

The defenseman a few strides back slides to attempt to block the pass, but Boeser manages to pass it a few feet from the net. Landing right on Elias’s stick. Fred having committed to stopping Brock on the right side tries to slide across but not in time. Pettersson tips it over hid pad and in; giving them the lead.

It was a beautiful goal, one that Fred had no chance on. He had to assume Brock would shoot and protect that half of the neck. But regardless of the circumstance it gives them a lead, and a fire they desperately need.

Five minutes later, while on the power play a second one goes past Fred. An absolute rocket from the blue line, and he was screened by 2 Canucks and one of his own men. Another goal he had no chance on, but still frustrating for him nonetheless.

Silence falls over the building.

This is the moment you wish were in your seats. To be closer to Fred. When he would take his helmet off for a drink maybe he could find you in the stands. See you smiling back at him, or maybe he would just feel you there close to him.

Going into the third the Penguins need momentum, and they have it. Keeping the puck in the Canucks end for the majority of the first 10 minutes. Vancouver manages 1 shot and Pittsburgh 7. It’s the change of pace they needed. The momentum brings the fans back into but they are unable to execute on it.

You can almost hear a pin drop as the clock winds down, less than 5 remaining. That’s when Sid is fed the puck behind the defense and takes off on a breakaway.

He dekes left and back right drawing the goalie over. He fakes a shot and the goalie goes down only to flip it up off the crossbar and down. It lands on the goalies back bouncing off him and into the net.

The entire building erupts; yellow towels are being spun around the entire stadium.

This is what they needed. The fans back in it and a change in momentum leads to another quick goal and three minutes left in the game.

The next three minutes feel like 3 hours to you. You are on the edge of your seat, along with every other person in the building. Neither team scores and the game is off to overtime.

While the twins fell asleep, Oliver hasn’t. You hope he does soon, because at some point regardless of the outcome you and the kids will have to leave given the time, and you don’t want to have to deal with a meltdown when that comes during overtime.

One thing you know about overtime is anything can happen. One bad bounce, it can go off your own players skate, one miscue and everything is over.

There are no comebacks in overtime.

The Canucks chip the puck down to Pittsburgh end and everyone starts a change. Fred skates out to stop the puck for his defensemen only there isn’t one. Looking up ice he sees the rookie and sends the puck down. Skating in he takes the shot only to have it be saved, but the rebound is quickly lifted over the goalie and in the net.

Shock washes over you, as you sit in your seat. You don’t hear the horn or the entire stadium erupt, you don’t see the confetti fall from the ceiling. It’s not until Oliver jumps in your arms, pulling the air out of your chest that you realize it actually happened. You didn’t dream it.

Fred won the Stanley Cup.

“Daddy did it" he squeals as your arms tighten around him.

“He sure did" you feel tears prick your eyes.

Tears, hugs and laughter fill the press box, champagne being passed to those who can drink. Through your excitement and commotion you missed the handshakes, Vancouver having left the ice. You watch as the Cup is brought out and handed to Sidney for the fourth time.

It is handed around to the rookie next, the game winning goal scorer. Likely the next face of the organization when Sidney leaves.

And he, well he hands it to the man that fed him the puck. Fred.

You watch as he hoists the cup above his head. Charlotte and Ernst both have tears in their eyes, while Oliver’s face is lit up brighter than on Christmas morning. You feel a couple warm tears fall down your cheek when you hear Kathy in your ear “Let’s go.”

Scanning the room you realize everyone has filtered out, making the trek down to the ice. Once the cup has been passed around and the team photo complete the doors are opened and families begin to flood the ice.

“Daddy you won!” Oliver cheers when he picks him up, squeezing g him into his chest.

“I sure did" he chuckles giving his dad a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Frederik" Charlotte says pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks ma" he smiles setting Oliver down beside her.

He takes a few steps and your arms open, immediately you wrap your arms around his neck blocking the florescent lights from your eyes. His hair is soaked with sweat and covered with a “Stanley Cup champion" hat. His equipment makes him bigger than ever and his jersey smells of something you can’t even imagine.

But you don’t care.

Your fingers hold the back of his head and pull him down to you. He reaches around hands landing on the small of your back as your mouths collide.

It doesn’t start slow, he dives right in. You can taste the sweat on his lips, the Gatorade on his tongue. Tongue slipping inside and you moan into his mouth before he pulls away briefly to capture his breath.

“Don’t make baby number five tonight" you hear someone mumble but press back in, smirking through the kiss.

“Congratulations baby" you pull away for a second only to kiss him again. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t be here without you" he smiles kissing you again. “Or my four good luck charms.”

He pulls away and skates to the stroller. The twins having woken up with all the commotion are wide eyed taking in the sights while Elise still sleeps soundly.

Pulling the twins out he bounces them on his hips, pressing kisses into both of their short red hair. Neither has any idea what is going on but pick up on the energy and smile, Noah clapping in his hands.

“Let’s get a family picture” he smiles. Ernst grabs Elise and you Oliver. You grip on to Fred’s arm as he leads you out on the ice. It’s not that you aren’t a decent skater; it’s just different wearing shoes and holding a child.

Once out there you get situated and Fred skates away to help Charlotte. He comes back a couple minutes later with the rookie and the Stanley Cup. He sets the cup down in front and Fred gets his dad to set Elise gently in the cup, using some unused towels to cushion it for her.

“Is that necessary?” you laugh when Fred comes back beside you.

“Babe how many babies get pictures in there?” he laughs as the team photographer takes a few of just Elise. “Much better than those newborn pictures you had done a few weeks ago” he teases.

“That’s ridiculous” you say.

“I think it’s perfect” Fred says helping you get in position beside him and the cup.

“Me too daddy” Oliver claps.

“Two to one, you’re outvoted” he kisses you again before everyone gets set for the family pictures. The celebrations continue over the next little while, champagne passed around just as much as the Stanley Cup. Trying to safely maneuver on the ice becomes somewhat of a challenge, but you are happy you settled on a pair of converse instead of heels.

“We’re going to take the kids home" Charlotte wraps her arms around Fred and you next. Looking to the stroller you see all three kids are asleep and Oliver’s eyes are closed as he rests in Ernst’s arms. Some of the players have begun to filter off the ice, continuing the celebration in the locker room.

“Have fun tonight momma" Charlotte winks as Fred helps them off the ice.

Almost instantly Fred’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in tight against his chest protector. You wrap your arms around his neck, struggling to reach with the extra inches his skates give him. He picks you up and sets you on his boots bringing his hands finding the back of your thighs to hold you in place.

His lips find your neck as he peppers kisses pulling some moans from you. “Babe people can see" you say. While many fans have left and are likely celebrating in bars or in the streets, there is still a decent amount that has remained inside.

“Let them see" he mumbles. “I’m sure they can figure out why I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Babe" you warn as he kisses you below the collar of your jacket.

“Jump up" he whispers and you wrap your arms around him tightly, your legs around his waist as he skates off the ice towards the dressing room where some of the team is waiting.

“See you in a bit” he sets you down with a kiss before heading into the dressing room.

“Hey babe" Fred’s hands grip your hips to hold you steady as you walk directly into his chest.

“Hey champion" you smile looking up to him. His eyes are glossed over and red from the alcohol you can smell it on him. Or do you smell it on yourself?

He grips your hips digging his hands gently into your cool and damp skin, chuckling slightly at your words. It’s only mid-June but Mario has the pool heater on for a party in the backyard. It’s warm in the water but once out the cool night air sends a slight chill through your body.

Fred lifts you in the air eliciting a slight squeal from your lips. Spinning you both 180°C he sets you back down with a kiss on the cheek. With a smirk he walks back into the bathroom shutting the door behind him.

“I’m sure you could have found your way back” he teases opening the door to see you in the bedroom waiting for him. A dark smile crosses your face and you put your hands on his chest backing him into the bathroom.

“Babe" he groans as you turn the lock on the door.

Wordlessly your mouth finds his neck, sucking lightly to taste the chlorine on his skin. Your hand begins to trail down his body running over his dripping swim trunks. The wet fabric clinging to every muscle of his lower body. Your hand presses down his hips to his thick thighs before palming over him a few times.

“(Y/N)” he warns but that only encourages you. You rub over his member and drag your teeth along his neck, Fred chuckling at your determination.

“We can’t do this here" he pushes your hips so your flatfooted pulling you from his neck.

“We fucked in Sid’s bathroom at a Halloween party" you move to his chest placing open mouth kisses on him gently sucking on his warm skin.

“That was my captain’s house, this is the owners” he gasps as your teeth sink into his chest. “And we were trying to make a baby then" he groans as you feel him start to harden under your hand.

“Well" you rise back to your tippy toes wrapping both arms around his neck. You press your hips forward, his hard member pressing into your stomach “my fiancé just won the Stanley Cup and I want to celebrate.” You place kisses along his neck and jaw between each word, Fred taking a sharp exhale.

“We are celebrating, hence the party.” You can hear the music and muffled laughter through the open window. You can’t make out what is happening but you can tell everyone is enjoying themselves from the loud laughter and cheers.

“I was thinking a more private celebration was in order” you lean forward your mouth centimeters from his ear “one with me on my knees.”

Danish curse words fall from his lips as you quirk an eyebrow up at him. Both your hands find the string tied around his waist and undo the knot, a wide grin on your face. While this behaviour isn’t entirely in character for you, after a few drinks you tend to get a little frisky. Something Fred has always been in favour of.

“Fuck du er utrolig (you’re unbelievable)” he mumbles as you slide fingers under the waist band of his trunks.

“You love it" you mumble kissing his chest, slowly trailing your way down his body. You leave soft kisses in your wake, ensuring not to leave a trail of marks for when you return to the party.

You push the fabric off his thighs, the wet fabric landing harshly against the floor as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. He steps out of them and you lands on your knees in the puddle of cold water that has been dripping off him onto the marble floors.

His pink tip is throbbing inches from your face as you stroke it up and down his shaft a few times. The precum glistens in the light and you press your tongue to the back of your teeth with a soft moan. You swallow your saliva flicking your eyes up to meet him. His pupils are blown as he watches you slowly stroke up and down, your other hand gently grazing over his thigh.

Your tongue darts between your parted lips, wetting them

Your mouth finds his thighs, placing soft open mouth kisses on his thighs. Your mouth moves to his hard member placing a few kisses on his shaft. You feel him twitch faintly at the contact before your mouth moves back to suck on his hips and pelvis.

“Babe" he groans after a few minutes of you toying with him “we don’t have time for this.”

While you know everyone is busy and won’t notice your absence you don’t want to keep him waiting. “You’re right. You deserve it” you wink.

Your mouth wraps around his tip, tongue licking up the precum that has oozed out. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip a couple times before your mouth wraps around him.

“Fuck (Y/N)” Fred groans as you bob up and down on him a few times. Hollowing your mouth for him you take him deeper every time, before he hits the back of your throat.

His hands tangle in your hair pulling it from your face as the other leans against the counter. You look up at him through your lashes, watching as his eyes snap shut. One hand gently rakes up his thigh, the other reaching around to his ass.

His skin is cold and damp as you give him a soft squeeze pulling his hips closer to you and he laughs slightly. Beads of sweat collect on his forehead as you stare up through your lashes taking him further.

“Fred" you hum around him.

His eyes open and finds yours, smiling at the sight of you on your knees. You pull off him with a pop, some saliva dribbling down your chin.

“Fuck my face" you almost hear his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“You’re amazing" he brings his other hand to your chin cupping it lightly. “Absolutely amazing" he strokes over your jaw before pressing it down to open your mouth for him.

You feel his hard dick fall on your tongue as his hips rock forward slightly. Your mouth wraps around him again while he pulls back. He slowly repeats the action a few times grinning as his cock disappears into your mouth.

You’re eyes find his and he smirks before snapping his hips thrusting into your mouth. You cough choking on him and he eases up slightly. You moan slightly, your throat relaxing around him. Your hands give his ass a soft squeeze, giving him the encouragement to increase his pace yet again.

One of his large hands in your hair gripping your neck the other cupping your jaw he thrusts in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust.

Tears prick your eye as saliva dribbles down your chin. Staring at Fred through glazed lenses you see his are dark with fire, loving the sight of you on your knees. Your hand tightens its grip on his ass as his tightens in your hair digging into your scalp.

The fire between your legs is ignited, and if it wasn’t for the fact you opted to wear a one piece bathing suit you would slip some fingers down your bottoms into your folds.

Every thrust of his hips is calculated with purpose. You feel in your heat, wanting nothing more than for him to pull out and bend you over the counter. Pound in to you from behind while you grasp the porcelain for stability, but you know that won’t happen here.

Besides the fact you are at the owner’s house with his entire team, you also haven’t had your six week check-up. Some Fred is adamant you get before he does anything. Sex during the playoffs was always limited, reserved for days when a series has ended and they have a few days off before their next opponent. He never has come home after a playoff game when he has another in 2 or 3 days and had sex, but on occasion he has fingered you, especially if you find time to join him in the shower.

But this year has been nothing. He insists you wait until your appointment, and no amount of pleading has helped. If the sight of you on your knees while he fucks your mouth isn’t enough for him to slide between your dripping heat than nothing is.

You can feel him getting sloppy, as his hips stutter. Muttered Danish curse words fill the bathroom as his dick twitches. He holds your head on him, shooting warm ribbons down your throat. When he pulls out some saliva mixed with cum spills out on your chin and down to your chest, landing on the curve of your breast.

Holding a hand out he helps you to your feet before pulling his trunks back up his legs. You wipe the sides of your mouth, cleaning his cum from your face. You scan the bathroom for a cloth to wipe the smeared lipstick from your face “I can’t believe I just gave a Stanley Cup Champion a blow job.”

You hear him chuckle while he brings two fingers on your chest. He wipes the cum from your chest, cleaning your skin before bringing his fingers to your mouth. You open for him and wrap your lips around him. He groans as you swirl your tongue around his thick digits. Pulling them out he wipes them on your bathing suit “thank you" you smile.

“Mmm tak baby pige" (thank you babygirl)” he hums in your ear before sucking gently on your neck. You feel his lips curl against your skin as he places warm open mouth kisses on your exposed skin.

The cool night air blowing through the window against your damp skin and Fred’s soft touch causes goosebumps to erupt on you. You shiver and press yourself into his chest, his warm arms quickly wrapping around you.

“I love you" he whispers in your ear. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so happy in five weeks you get to be my wife.”

Your hands reach around him running up his back, you lean your head back to glance into his eyes. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“We can run off to Vegas, you could be my wife in a few hours” he smiles as you shake your head remembering a night a few weeks ago.

It was about two weeks before Charlotte came to Pittsburgh and you had a particularly rough day of wedding planning. Since she was visiting a lot of the vendors on your behalf in Denmark, you wanted to have everything in order before she left. You could still talk with the planner after that, but you found it easier having Charlotte there to see things in person and give her honest opinion.

Trying to coordinate with the florist you thought everything was set up perfectly until Charlotte went to see the mock ups and they were not even close to what you thought. And then she told you that you booked the photographer for the wrong date and they weren’t actually available on your wedding day. It was disaster after disaster and you were uncomfortable from the pregnancy.

When Fred came home at 3am he tried to be soft and quiet crawling in to bed beside you. But the bed shifting and your uneasy sleep caused you to stir and wake up. You immediately broke down in his arms, the stress of everything unravelling in front of you sending you over the edge.

Fred tried to convince you to push the wedding back to the following summer, give you more time to plan. Said you could use this summer to go out and see everything and then next year you could just show up, everything already planned. He was worried about the stress you were putting on yourself to get it done, especially since you were pregnant.

But you told him you didn’t want to wait another year to get married. You said you were going to have four kids soon and just wanted it to be official. At that point you didn’t even care if you had flowers, a cake or a photographer, you just wanted to be his wife.

That was when he suggested eloping; he had an optional skate the next day and said you could run to the courthouse.

“I already see you as my wife, but we can make it official tomorrow" he whispered in your ear as his hand ran over your bump. “Tell no one or tell everyone I don’t care. Let’s get married now.”

“Mkay” you hum as he kissed your neck.

“Yeah baby you actually want to” he pulled back with a big smile.

“Well we we’re planning in being married in the summer what’s a few months” you smiled as his lips press down to yours. “We could still have a reception this summer, but might take away some stress if we go into it already married.”

Not wanting to have to rebook everything and lose the deposits (which you know he could care less about) you thought it could alleviate some pressure going into the day already married. Maybe the details wouldn’t matter as much this way.

But when you woke up the next day you had a change of heart and decided to wait until the summer as planned, but now it’s become a running joke with you two.

“I can wear my Andersen jacket" you smile as he closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours.

“You look so good with my name on your back, can’t wait until it’s your name too" he growls lowly as you feel your core ignite. You chuckle to disguise your moan as his voice vibrates off your skin. Your legs rub together slight and you push him off you slightly “we should get back” you whisper knowing every second you stay in there it will be harder for you to walk away. You turn around to face the mirror, fixing your bathing suit and hair as his hands rest against your hips.

“So that’s a no on getting married tonight?” he chuckles against your collarbone.

“Yeah" you sigh. “You can wait a few more weeks.”

“I don’t want to” he mumbles sucking hard on your neck.

“Frederik" you scold. He tilts his head to look at you in the mirror. His eyes are dark as he sucks again on your neck not breaking eye contact. Your eyes go wide, as your stern mom look comes across your face causing him to let up and chuckle.

“I’m not scared of your mom look babe" he kisses your neck again. “It actually turns me on.” He presses into you, pushing you into the counter “and you know calling me Frederik gets me hard.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you whimper slightly.

“Well I am heading back out to the party “you smirk wrangling out of his embrace. You hold a hand out for him “let’s go Mr. Andersen.”

You watch as he takes a deep breath closing his eyes for a second. He opens them shaking his head slightly before grabbing your hand and heading out together. Once in the hall you run into Sid and Kathy, actually run into them coming out of a bathroom together.

“What were you doing" you tease seeing the flushed look on her face.

“I’m gonna guess the same thing as you" she smirks.

“She’s four and a half months pregnant, can’t help it" Sid laughs walking up behind her, putting his hands on her hips as he guides her down the hall as she giggles like a teenager. While this is unusual behaviour for Sidney he is normally more reserved but you know it has to do with the hours of drinking.

“Four and a half months was a fun time" Fred mumbles in your ear.

Laughing you pull him closer so his chest is against your back as you make your way outside.

The music is just as loud as before, and the guests even more intoxicated than before you left. Fred gives your ass a light squeeze before jumping in the pool while you find some of the girls by the bar, pouring yourself a drink.

Fred shoots you a wink as you take a sip. After Sid and Kathy’s wedding you had a few glasses of wine at dinner before discovering you were pregnant. But tonight is the first night you have had a drank since Sid and Kathy’s wedding, and really the first time in over two and half years. For that reason you should take it easy, your body likely unable to handle alcohol like it used to. You’ve had three drinks since getting here plus the champagne at the arena but it doesn’t stop you from pouring a shot.

You don’t know if it’s the lingering glances over the rim of his whiskey glass, the not too subtle winks and smirks Fred sends your way or the alcohol coursing through your body. But there is heat in your cheeks and core; a dizziness in your head.

Waking up the next morning, you are in an unfamiliar bed. The pillows are softer than normal and duvet not as comfortable. You blink a few times allowing your eyes to adjust. The room is dark; except for some light filtering through the few inches the curtains are open. The room in unfamiliar but the simple décor indicates it’s a hotel.

You blink a few times adjusting to the light before continuing to look around. Your eyes land on Fred beside you lying on his stomach. He is lying topless, his red hair a mess on the pillow, his chest slowly rising and falling as he snores softly. The sheet is hung low on his hips, his broad arm wrapped under the pillow.

Pulling the duvet back you wander to the bathroom, the clock catches your eye. 11:42 illuminated in red.

“Fuck” you groan seeing yourself in the mirror. It seems like you attempted to wash your makeup off but failed and your hair is an absolute mess. You look around the room for a brush but there isn’t one but you settle on washing the remaining makeup off your face.

“Hey" Fred smiles when you walk back in, “nice hair” he laughs.

“I don’t know where a brush is" you grumble crawling back in to the bed not having a hair elastic either.

“Yeah I thought a hotel would be nice so we could sleep in, but we didn’t have a bag packed” he pulls you in against his chest. His skin is warm and you can still smell the alcohol on him.

“Yeah sleep is nice" you laugh knowing the kids would have woken you a long time ago. Even if they were kept from the room you would have heard their laughter or cries at some point.

“When did we leave the party?"

“Around 4…after your fifth shot" he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“How do you feel?” he asks as you groan.

“Like a nap or a shower. I don’t actually know"

“Let’s shower, get it out of our systems and then maybe nap or food.”

He crawls out of bed starting the shower before returning to get you, carrying you to the bathroom. You would protest him carrying you the twenty feet but he would feed you some line about being a hockey player. But you know he just wants to take care of you, and honestly today you don’t mind it.

He sets you on the floor pulling his t-shirt off your body and you shiver in response, your nipples getting hard from the cool air. Your arms cross over your stomach hiding your stretch marks. Once his boxers are off and he turns his attention to you a scowl crosses his face as you look away.

“Baby you look beautiful" he brings his hands to your elbows but doesn’t pull them down as you look away.

“Babe look at me" he hums in your ear. You turn to face him, tears having hit your eyes. With a sigh he pulls you into his chest, a hand finding your neck tangling in your hair.

“Why are you crying?” his chin is resting on your head.

“I don’t know" you say through some light sobs. “Because I had a baby six weeks ago.”

“Sure that’s it?” his other hand runs up and down your spine. The steam from the shower begins to fill the room warming your body. Fred has spent the majority of the time with you while you’re pregnant or post-partum. Because of this he has grown accustom to you crying randomly and without cause, but he can also tell when there is a reason to your tears. And he knows you are lying about this.

“I don’t know" you mumble turning to the mirror though you can’t see anything through the fogged glass. “Sometimes I just hate how I look. Stretch marks, extra weight” being around some of the other woman who have had kids and look amazing the night before didn’t help. That’s why you opted for a one piece instead of a bikini; something you would never admit.

Fred pulls you back against his chest, stopping you from examining yourself.

“Babe I don’t see any of those things. All I see is an amazing badass woman that brought our babies into this world. I was never with you for your looks" he pulls a hand from you to tilt your head to look at him.

“Thanks” you whine as a strangled sob catches in your throat even though you know that’s not how he intended it to come across.

“That’s not what I meant” he groans. “You are absolutely breathtaking, but it’s not why I’m with you or why I love you. “I love you for your big heart and the fact that when I’m with you nothing else matters. I can be having the absolute worst day and I see your face, even if it’s just a picture on my phone, and I know everything will be okay.”

You smile lightly at that as a few tears roll slowly down your cheek. “But my favourite thing is when one of our babies smile at me. I’m not sure about Elise yet but the boys they all have your smile.”

He wipes a few tears from your eyes “I love you and the fact that you gave me four perfect babies. If you want to go to the gym and get what you want your body to look like I’ll be behind you. 100%. But you are only doing that for you, because I think you are perfect and amazing just the way you are okay?”

You know he is right, but it’s hard for you. After having Oliver it wasn’t as hard to find time to go to the gym or to take Oliver for walks and the occasional run. But with four kids you find you free time few and far between. On top of that your body changed so much after being pregnant with twins.

With all your insecurities and struggles Fred has always encouraged you, never missing an opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are. Some days you find it hard to see what he does, today being one of those days.

“Looks can fade babe, but your compassion and empathy, your beautiful smile…none of that will.”

You nod slightly and rise on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips “love you" you whisper before pressing your lips back on him. He pulls you in to him as your tongue slides into him, tasting the alcohol that remains in his mouth.

“Let’s go" he pulls away stepping into the shower where you immediately wrap your arms around his lower back tilting your head to him. He smiles at you through his golden brown eyes before closing the gap. What starts as a few soft pecks turns into your tongues lazily dancing through each other’s mouths.

“Babe" he moans pulling away to catch his breath. Water is dripping from his hair through his long beard and onto his chest, before finding the curve of his abs and falling down his thighs. It’s a sight you don’t get to see much of with four kids, but one you never tire of.

He pushes you back against the cold tile wall, his hands gently resting on your hips as his tongue slides back in your mouth. Your hands tangle in his beard, gripping it to hold him against you.

“Jeg elsker dig så meget (I love you so much)” he mumbles against your lips. A smile spreads across yours as you whisper affirmations back to him.

Your arms fully around his neck, he spins you again to be back under the stream of the water “we need to shower so we can nap" he mumbles but makes no effort to pull away from you. His hands randomly slide down to your ass to give you a soft squeeze before it trails back up your spine into your hair.

Each soft squeeze causes you to pull away with laughter, something you have grown to love about your relationship. No moment is too serious for you both. After a few more minutes you reluctantly pull away only because your skin is beginning to wrinkle from the moisture and you have yet to begin showering.

Once showered he wraps a plush towel around you, watching in the mirror as him arms rub up and down the towel to dry your body. You watch as the droplets go down his chest, over the curves of his abs and down to his member.

“You’re unbelievable” he jokes kissing your cheek pulling your gaze up to his eyes.

He is smirking at you as you swallow dryly “you know it’s been six weeks…” You turn around and lean against the counter watching as he wraps a towel low on his waist.

“Mhm you told me that” he steps closer placing a hand on either side of you pinning you “many times last night.”

You feel your core heat up as he leans in, his lips millimetres from your ear. “Did I?” you ask not remembering.

“Mhm” he kisses your collarbone drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. “And I told you last night” he mumbles between pressing soft kisses on your skin. “I told you I wanted to wait until after your doctor appointment.”

He continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder. “I’m on birth control” you say breathlessly causing him to pull his head up and look at you with a dark grin.

“Elskede, you know I don’t care about birth control, I love seeing you pregnant.” He falls into the crook of your neck; his breath is warm but still pulls goosebumps to the surface. “I love having babies with you, and watching this belly grow. I love feeling the little kicks against your stomach and seeing you as a mom. Fuck I get hard just thinking of it" he growls.

“If you came to me in a month, a year, or even five years and said you wanted another baby I’m all in 110%.”

“Fred" you groan pushing him up by the shoulder to look at him shaking your head. “With that being said I know you don’t want any more which is why I have zero doubt you’re on birth control.”

“You were a foot away as the doctor put my IUD in" you laugh.

“Sorry for being distracted by our newborn baby girl" he smiles briefly. “I’m not saying no because of birth control, I’m saying no because I want to make sure everything is all good down there first.”

“Fine” you huff. Your six week appointment was originally scheduled for the same day as game 4 but you decided to push it until after the playoffs would be over and things would calm down. Now you are really regretting that decision to wait.

“Now let’s nap.”

“Babe" you pout as he pulls his shirt over your head.

“We’ve gone six weeks what’s a few more days?" he kisses your cheek and pulls you by the hand to the bed. You crawl in beside him, rubbing your legs together for some relief, unsure if you can wait a few more days.

“You’ll be fine" he laughs pulling you into his chest, running his hands through your hair.

“I don’t understand how a few days makes a difference” you huff staring at the ceiling. “It’s been six weeks already.”

“Yeah you said that last night too" he laughs against your temple. “You were very insistent”

“I don’t remember that” you sigh.

“Mhm, another reason I forced you to sleep" he tilts your head to look at you. “You know I’ll take care of you, just have to make sure everything is good first.”

You smile and pull him down brushing your lips against him. “I love you for taking care of me” his lips press against your once more before he adjusts beside you.

You feel his breathing steady, his chest slowing as he begins to doze off, but you aren’t as fortunate. After waiting six weeks everything Fred does has you practically dripping and that shower did not relax you. Instead it had the opposite effect.

If it wasn’t the long make out session, the naked man with water dripping down his chiseled body certainly did it.

A loud exaggerated sigh leaves your lips. “What" he murmurs eyes not opening.

“I can’t sleep, you look too good naked” you groan rolling onto your side to brush some hair from his eyes.

“So do you babe" his eyes are still closed but he is grinning at you.

“Fredddd" you whine causing his eyes to open, his brown eyes are dark and heavy with sleep.

“What can I do babe?” he asks clearing his throat, running his index finger down your spine. “Want a tea? A massage? Just go home and try to nap in our bed?”

“No" you sigh. “Tell me a story. It always works for the boys.”

“Yeah and they are babies" he laughs as you shoot him a soft smile. “I can tell you one about a train, or about a lost baby bear.”

“No, tell me about how you knew I was the one.”

“That’s the story you want?”

“Yeah" you beam resting your head on his bicep to use as a pillow.

“When did you know I was it for you" you curl into his embrace. The bright afternoon sun still filtering through the cracked curtains.

“Long before you did" he laughs wrapping his arms around you as you roll on top of him, straddling one of his thighs.

“What are you doing?” he asks as you lift the oversized shirt above your hips, pressing your bare core against his thigh. Your grab a handful of your shirt holding it a few inches above your core to keep it out of the way.

“Babe” he groans as you roll your hips feeling the wetness on his leg. You are happy you didn’t put your underwear on after your shower, otherwise you’d have to wear them home drenched.

“Not every orgasm has to involve penetration” you bring your hand to push his boxers further up his thighs giving you more space.

“I know that” he laughs finding your waist with his hands. You expect him to push you off, telling you to wait, but to your surprise he pulls you down harder against his firm muscle.

“Well I need to cum” you roll your hips again. “This is the only way for me to get what I want and for you to be okay with it.”

He shakes his head, his hands grasping your bare skin. You release your shirt and it falls onto his wrists as you rock back and forth on him. One hand lands on his lower stomach for leverage while your head falls back.

“Now I believe you were telling me a story” you smirk “about how I’m the one for you.”

He pulls his chapped lower lip through his teeth shaking his head at you before giving in. “Honestly I saw glimpses of it long before I knew” his nails dig into your skin.

“So Denmark when you were pregnant with Ollie, he kicked for the first time" you both smile remembering the day. “Everything stopped when you kissed me and I remember thinking I would do anything for you and not because you’re Ollie’s mom.”

A light sigh falls from your lips before he continues. “Honestly it confused me, I had never had any feelings like that before towards you, or any I allowed myself to admit so it really threw me off.”

“That’s why when we got back to the hotel you made love to me” you moan. “Soft and slow.”

Instead of answering Fred just ignores your comment “then I guess that first all-star break, when we went away without Oliver.”

“Fuck" you grumble under your breath slowing your hips. That and everything that transpired over the next ten months you wish you could change.

“That whole day it was the best day, actually both days were amazing. That massage I gave you by the roaring fire…”

“I had the longest shower after that night” you mumble resuming your pace. You press your hips down further, coating him in some of your wetness.

“Same” he laughs. “But the second night…the wine, music just everything was perfect. Waking up beside you after that night I just couldn’t believe I had you. Like I saw the three of us could be a being a family. I was so happy…and then you broke my heart into a million pieces the next day.”

A frown comes over you stop rocking your hips. Fred laughs lightly before continuing “then you moved out and kissed some guy in a bar back in Toronto and I remember thinking she must not be the one for me, because if you were…”

“I wouldn’t have done that” your head turns away and you try to climb off but he continues to hold you on his thick thigh.

“Babe you know this story has a happy ending” he smirks rolling your hips. He grabs one of your hands and presses your index finger into your clit with some soft circles before you take over increasing the pace. Once you take over the pace he continues with his story.

“Anyways I kept telling myself if you were the girl for me you wouldn’t have done that. Everyone told me you weren’t the girl for me; you were the girl who would help me find the girl.”

“The one you’re with before you find your wife"

“Yeah but I didn’t fully believe them. I tried to distract myself, heading to Denmark for a week, dating Danielle" you’re nose scrunches up hearing her name.

“But it was hard. Every time I saw you I got these little butterflies and I wanted to kiss you so bad. I just kept telling myself not to fall into bed with you, that if I did, I’d end up back where I was only a few months before. And I did so good for two months…

Then my birthday came, and then Ollie’s. We just kept ending up in bed together and every time I said it was the last time. Then came your birthday and Thanksgiving and I knew I was falling and I started to think that you were too. I started to see something in you that made me think maybe it was more than just hookups.

But then that day at the tree farm, that day I knew you had feelings for me” he trails off and you smile remembering that day, the butterflies you felt but were too afraid to admit. That morning when you opened the door after his road trip you realized just how much you had missed him; something you hadn’t noticed before.

Fred grins up at you and begins to move your hips, pulling you down on his thigh. His hands dig deep into your flesh leaving crescent shaped marks as you press faster and harder circles into your clit.

“We fell in the snow, I was pinning you down" he laughs bucking his hips up as you gasp from the feeling. “Nose was red from the cold and you smiled up at me well I was going to do anything to get you. Just had to get rid of your boy toy Connor” he mocks his name.

“He wasn’t my boy toy” you groan unable to laugh as you feel your orgasm building deep in your stomach. Having gone so long without one you know it will engulf you when it finally comes.

“Anyways New Year’s Eve came around and he fucked up leaving you at my door looking absolutely phenomenal.” He groans feeling your wetness on his leg as your folds flutter against his muscle. He knows your climax is near when your nails dig into his hard chest.

“And you thought damn she’d make a hot wife” you joke and he just shakes his head laughing. Your other hand slides up his chest, finding a few beads of sweat.

“Actually the next morning was when I had the moment. I woke up before you. You were sleeping on the other side of the bed, in my t-shirt, snoring lightly"

“I do not snore" you groan feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Breathing deeply" he corrects. “Ollie was still asleep so I just lay there watching you sleep for a few minutes. You looked so prefect and peaceful. The sun was shining on your face and your hair was an absolute mess.

“Fred" you groan laughing as you bounce on his thigh.

“No babe, like you’re beautiful no matter what. But your hair, fuck it was a disaster” he explains with a laugh. “Between the curls and the hairspray it was everywhere. Like this morning” he smirks.

“You’re the worst" you laugh, your jaw falling open as a loud deep moan slips out.

“Well I reached over to brush some behind your ears and startled you. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled when you saw me, then your eyes closed and you cuddled up against me. You pulled my arm over your body and fell back asleep in my arms and that was it. I just knew I had to wake up beside you every morning after that.”

He continues to move your hips flexing his thigh as your moans before louder and erratic. He knows you are getting close and holds you down onto his firm thigh while you continue to rock above him. A choked groan leaves your lips and your coil snaps your warm release spilling onto his leg.

He mutters a few curse words below you watching the white coat his chiseled thigh. He continues to do the work for you as your body tenses under your long awaited release; rocking you as complete bliss fills your body. Finally you stop moving and fall onto his chest in a state of complete euphoria; his hand rests on the small of your back.

“So you waited over five months to make a move" you tease having recaptured your breath.

“Well I had to take it slow, you spook easy. Like a deer" he laughs.

You smile wide rolling your eyes slightly but don’t bother objecting. “It’s okay you’re my Bambi, I’d do anything for you.

Later that day you were in the shower Allie called and I answered. She basically told me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I gave her my number, and she added me to a group chat with Carlee.”

“Oh my god that must have been terrible for you" you smirk pushing onto your elbow to look at him.

“It is terrible” he corrects you pressing you back onto the mattress. “We still have it, but now it’s mostly random stuff. Sending them pictures of the kids, Carlee mostly just sends memes of goats for some reason” he laughs slightly. “But one time I was buying you a present and I had it narrowed down to two options, sent pictures to the chat and had about a million messages over the next 3 days” you laugh along with him.

“I never asked for their help again. But before we got together they helped me figure out what you meant and wanted. They made sure I didn’t do anything stupid or say something to scare you off again. When I had doubts because you were so closed off, or you would stay at your apartment alone instead of with Oliver and I they would reassure me. They would tell me things like keep doing what you’re doing or she really liked when you did blank. So without telling me how you felt or what you saying about me they helped.

I think we would have got here without them. But they helped, let me know I was on the right track.”

“I wasn’t that bad" you groan.

Fred laughs pressing his lips against yours. Your hand slides up his chest into his beard, gently running your hands through it while his tongue slides inside your mouth. You open your mouth to allow him further entrance but he pulls back slightly.

“When did you know?” he asks against your lips “that I was the one?”

“I knew that night in Toronto when I joined you on your road trip. Looking back it happened before that night, I mean you already had a key to my place. But when I called you my boyfriend at the bar…that was when it was real. I didn’t meant to call you my boyfriend, but it felt natural and right and that’s when I finally admitted it to myself.”

“Oh it took so much willpower to not tell you I loved you then" he brings a large smile to your lips. “But I knew you were already overthinking the fact you called me your boyfriend so I held back. Didn’t want to make it worse and send you running.”

“Well now you get to tell me all the time" you smile down at him.

“Mmmm and I plan on it every. Single. Day.” He presses his lips against yours in between each word, each kiss a little more firm.

“You feeling better?” he asks a few minutes later his eyes are heavy and barely open.

“Yeah” you brush your lips against his.

“All taken care of” he mumbles “satisfied?”

“Yeah babe” you smile wide though his eyes are closed and he can’t see.

“Night elskede” he mumbles through a raspy voice, barely getting the words out before he begins snoring beside you.

Next Chapter

#because two people got drunk fic #fredzilla #frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen smut #Fred Andersen Fic #fred andersen x reader #nhl fic #nhl smut

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introvert-no-chameleon · 4 years

Text

Of Monsters and McGuckets

Fiddleford just wanted to have his morning coffee in peace, but Gravity Falls and the Stan brothers had other plans.

AO3

Fiddleford Hardon McGucket considered himself to be a patient, level-headed individual. One had to be if they ever hoped to survive Gravity Falls, and, even more daunting, live with Stanford and Stanley Pines. Keeping them in line was an occupation in itself. His co-workers were two of the most chaotic and morally questionable people he’d ever met in his life. (Then again, as someone who had once made a giant robot to terrorize his ex-wife in an admittedly misguided attempt to get her back, maybe he shouldn’t be throwing stones in that last department).

The point is, when it came to dealing with uncommon and frustrating situations, he usually managed to keep a straight head. But on one deceivingly lovely morning, just when he’d went out to the porch to sit back with a nice cup of coffee and the sun had just begun to kiss the horizon, he saw two large monsters sprinting towards the shack, and. Well.

It was only reasonable that he’d react the way he did.

The first thing he did was spit out his early-morning coffee, ruining his only clean tie in the process. The second thing he did was dash into the shack like the Devil Himself was on his heels. Lastly, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and began combing the living room for the shotgun he knew for a fact Stanley kept around. He thanked the Lord Stanford wasn’t here, lest he’d be chastising Fiddleford for “harming” (defending himself against) a perfectly healthy specimen. Never mind the fact that half of these subjects of study had tried to eat him, no sir. Scientific discovery was always more important.

(Sometimes, Fiddleford wondered how on God’s green earth Stanford Pines hadn’t fallen to his death into a ravine or some other nonsense in pursuit of an anomaly. Heaven knows the man, while undeniably brilliant, was severely lacking when it came to common sense).

A bang rattled the wooden door of the shack. Fiddleford yelped, dropping the pile of books he’d been in the process of moving in his scramble to find the gun. He eyed the secret lab entrance and wondered if the door would hold them back long enough for him to make a dash for it.

“Fidds, we saw you run in, will ya just open the door?”

Fiddleford froze. That voice, while even more gravelly than usual (a thing he hadn’t thought possible) was definitely familiar.

“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” he said, dazed, as he walked over to the door and unlocked it. “Stanley?”

Upon closer inspection, he couldn’t deny that the square-jawed face that peered down at him belonged to Stanley Pines. There were some…notable…differences, such as the fact that he had glowing orbs for eyes, all his featured seemed to be carved from stone, he had ridiculous pointy ears and fangs to boot. He’d be right at home next to the gargoyles from those pictures of cathedrals he’d studied for his History of Western Art course.

“Took ya long enough,” said Stanley, ducking his head under the doorway and lumbering inside. Each step made the floorboard groan loudly, and for a few seconds Fiddleford thought the man would break through the wood floor. “Thought we’d never get back.”

“Stanferd, do ya have…fur?” said Fiddleford, stepping away from the door to let the other man in.

Stanford—it couldn’t be anyone else, not with that straight-backed posture and furrowed brow peering over thick-rimmed glasses—walked in behind him, hands behind his back.

Hearing the question, Stanford adjusted his glasses, with a large, six-fingered paw. His facial features were lion-esque, as was his entire body, save from the colorful green, blue and red feathered wings that trailed behind his body. He even had a cute little lion tail poking out from a hole in his pants. “It appears so, yes.” He cleared his throat. “We may have a…problem.”

Stanley, who had gone to the fridge to get a beer, came back glaring at Stanford with those bright yellow orbs. “No shit, Sixer. I hadn’t fucking noticed.”

Stanford’s ears flattened against his skull. Fiddleford would’ve found it amusing if Stanford wasn’t now 7 feet tall and didn’t have large, sharp teeth. “Language, Stanley.”

Fiddleford considered grabbing some alcohol as he took in the situation. After a few attempts at forming words, he finally settled for the question he found himself asking on a near-daily basis. “What in tarnation did ya two get yerselves mixed up in now?”

“Oi, don’t look at me,” said Stan. He jerked his clawed thumb at Stanford. “Mr. Science here was the one who just had to walk right into a mysterious, glowing lake that he almost drowned in.”

Stanford’s tail twitched, and he growled. “We almost drowned, Stanley, because you turned into 300 pounds of moving stone.”

“I was only in the lake because you started flailing around growing a tail and screamin’ for help!”

Ford sniffed, chin held up in that way it got whenever he’d start getting defensive. “Swimming with wings is incredibly difficult.”

“Yeah, I would know, I have them now.” Stanley stretched out his bat-like wings for emphasis.

Judging by Stanford’s bloodshot eyes and Stanley’s slouched posture, along with the fact that they seemed even more short with each other than usual, Fiddleford guessed that they’d been arguing on and off about this for a while. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Now see right here, the two of ya best calm down, you’ll tear the shack apart if you start fighting bein’ like this.”

The two of them, while far from calm, quieted down.

“Right,” said Fiddleford. “So ya discovered some magic water that turns folks into monsters?”

“Yup,” said Stanley. “We found it in some hidden path behind some bushes and a couple of boulders.”

It’s almost as if it was hidden away for a reason. “Did ya at least remember where the path is?”

“Of course,” said Stanford, having the audacity to look indignant. “What do you take me for?”

“An idiot who got us turned into two walking Summerween costumes because he couldn’t just collect the water in a cup and some gloves like a normal scientist?” said Stanley.

“As if you would know what a “normal” scientist does,” said Stanford, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright, fellas. Let me just get some food in me and then we can go back out and get some samples,” said Fiddleford. “I need me some caffeine to deal with this.”

Stanford opened his mouth but Fiddleford stopped him with the same withering glare he’d give his son whenever he tried to step out of line. “Stanferd Pines, if ya think I’m gonna run around the woods with the two of you, in this here state, on an empty stomach, yer sorely mistaken.”

“Fidds has got a point,” said Stan. “You probably haven’t had anything other than that piece of toast since you woke up.”

“I suppose some food wouldn’t hurt…” said Stanford. “I did have an incredibly strong urge to maul a deer we spotted on the way over.”

Fiddleford was getting some bacon out of the fridge when he heard the end of the sentence. He straightened up and slammed the door with more force than strictly necessary. “Y-ya did?”

Stanford seemed to come to the same conclusion Fiddleford had, because he raised his paws up. “Oh, n-no, rest assured. I don’t have any inclination to eat you.”

“Thank the Lord…”

“After all,” said Stanford, rubbing his chin. “According to mythology, sphinxes only consume humans if they are unfortunate enough not to know the answers to their riddles.”

“Don’t I feel better,” said Fiddleford, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do ya reckon ya can still have some bacon and eggs?”

“Yes, that’ll do,” he said. “Oh! I must write down our findings in my journal. Now, where did I put it…” Stanford went up the stairs, muttering to himself the entire way.

“Ya know, he actually started running on all fours at least twice on the way over.” Stan grinned through another sip of beer. “was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week.”

Fiddleford sighed. That would explain the fighting. He rolled his eyes as he saw Stanley reach in the fridge for another can and shut it before he could. “Stanley Pines, it is 8 o’clock in the morning.”

“Ooh,” Stanley raised his eyebrows. “Two last names in less than five minutes, it’s a new record.”

“Stanley.”

Stanley pouted, and even with his new…physical features, Fiddleford still found it endearing. “Aw, come onnnn, Fids, I’m emotionally distressed!”

“Yer no such thing.” He smiled a soon as back turned to the other man. He took out their skillet and placed it on the stove.

“Y’know, I gotta hand it to ya. You’ve gotten a lot more assertive since we’ve met, it’s kinda hot.”

“Yer flattery will not sway me into lettin’ ya get another drink.”

Stanley laughed behind him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m still bein’ serious. Ford didn’t even try to fight you about getting breakfast. If it was me, he’d be yelling at me by now about how we were wastin’ time and crap.”

“It doesn’t take much for the two of ya to get at each other’s necks.” Fiddleford cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet. Anyhow, that’s because he’s hiding away scribblin’ field notes. The moment he’s done, he’ll be tryin’ to drag us on out of here.”

“Eh, true.”

For a moment, the eggs sizzling and snapping on the pan filled the warm silence. His stomach grumbled as the savory smell of cooking food reached him. “Stanley, can ya hand me the coffeepot?”

The floorboards creaked behind Fiddleford. A shadow loomed over him. “Stanley?”

“…You’re not, uh, scared of me or nothin’?” Stanley’s voice had gotten so quiet Fiddleford had hardly heard him.

Fiddleford glanced back at Stanley, who despite his size was hunched over, looking mighty small for someone who was now a literal boulder.

“Why on earth would I be?”

Stanley blinked meekly. He gestured towards his entire body. “Uh…’cause I look like this?”

Ah. He did try to threaten them with a shotgun. Some of the unease he’d gotten rid of returned, but he tried his best not to show it. He swallowed down his fear as best as he could. “Should I be?”

Stanley frowned. “Eh, I mean, I feel different, but not in a “eat somebody” kinda way. I do have a very strong urge to perch on the roof and attack pigeons.”

“Fascinating.” Even without his caffeine, his scientific curiosity was finally starting to get the best of him. “Well, gargoyles are known as guardians meant to ward against evil. Perhaps you’ve developed some sorta protective instinct…”

He stopped mid-ramble. Even without eyes to speak of, Fiddleford could tell Stanley was avoiding his gaze.

Fiddleford brought his hand to Stanley’s cheek. It felt warm, to his surprise, like rock that had baked under the afternoon sun. Stanley peeked up at him. “Darlin’, the only thing I’m afraid of is the damage you’ll cause around the lab if we don’t turn ya back. Yer like a bull in a china closet as it is.”

Stanley chuckled, leaning into Fiddleford’s touch. “Somebody has ta make things interesting around here.”

Something crashed overhead, quickly followed by a string of curses. A series of heavy objects thumped against the wood overhead.

“I’m alright!” called Stanford’s voice. “I simply knocked a bookshelf over my person, but this new form is surprisingly durable!”

“Things are interestin’ enough as it is,” said Fiddleford, his brief moment of curiosity gone as soon as it came. “Where in tarnation is the coffeepot?”

“Relax, Fiddlenerd, I’ll make ya a fresh one.” He went over by his side, giving him a playful shove that sent Fiddleford to the ground. “…Oops. Sorry, uh, forgot about the whole…stone thing.”

Fiddleford glowered up at his boyfriend, taking his hand as he helped Fiddleford back up. “Yer lucky a got a soft spot fer ya, else I’d be mighty cross.”

Stanly gave him the gentlest peck on the top of Fiddleford’s head. “Once I have my human body back, I’ll make it up to ya.”

Stanley gave him a cup of his precious lifeblood, black with two sugars, just as he liked it. Smirking, Fiddleford took a sip, getting warmed by more than just the coffee. “I’ll hold ya to that.”

Somebody please give Fiddleford a raise.

Comment on what monster you all think Fidds should be, and I may do a second part. I've read some people make him a scarecrow, and I considered making him a centaur.

#mystery trio au #mystery trio #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #young fiddleford #young stanley pines #young stanford pines #young stan bros #fluff #fiddlestan #monster falls #gargolye!stan #sphinx!ford

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stenbrozier · 4 years

Text

Clingy (Adult!Stanley Uris x Reader)

Plot: The Urises have always been known as the “snuggly couple” among their friends, especially as they got older. Stanley and (Y/N) are going to meet the Losers for lunch, and Stanley wants nothing more then to hold his wife and show her off the whole time.

Warnings: mentions of trying to have a kid, canon!Reddie

A/N: I was dropping anons about how lovely Stanley Uris was and how cuddly he was and now I’m here....writing a story about this dumb bitch with curly hair

——————————————————————————

Stanley moans slightly in his sleep, turning over in your arms to lay his head against your chest, his arms securing tight around your waist. He left a soft kiss right underneath the left side of your collarbone and smiled against it. You brought your hands up to run through his hair, the soft curls tickling your neck as you messed with them.

Your legs were tangled together between the grey sheets, one of your legs slotted in between his with the other slung over his hip. The sunlight from your bedroom window peeled through the blinds, making lines of light and dark drape over the big, dark red comforter that you and your husband were snuggled underneath. His hands tapped the small of your back, his nails rubbing lightly up and down before squeezing your ass and causing you to jump. He looked up at you, kissing along your jaw as he worked his way up to put his forehead against yours, and you giggled as he pressed little kisses to your nose.

“Baby, we should get ready,” you whispered softly, peeking at the alarm clock next to your bed. “We need to meet them for our weekly lunch date in a couple of hours.” Stanley groaned, squeezing you tight for a few seconds before pulling away and stretching out his arms and his legs. You sat up first, scooting to the edge of the bed to get ready to get up and get dressed. Your foot felt something soft underneath you, and you looked down to see you and Stan’s pitbull, Blue, sitting curled up in on herself. Stanley got off of the other side of the bed, coming around to pick up Blue and snuggle her, the 60 pound dog wagging its tail as she enjoyed the attention she was being given so early in the morning.

“Move, bub,” you chuckled, as he held Blue closer to his chest and leant down and gave you a kiss. “Can you go make some coffee?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes and he complied, heading out your bedroom door with the dog still wrapped in his arm. You grabbed clothes out of your drawers, pulling out a pair of shorts and one of Stanley’s shirts. You threw them on, brushing your hair down and going into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. After you did that, you went down the stairs and heard Stan laughing.

“Fuck off, Rich,” he said midlaugh, a huge smile on his face as he saw you standing in the doorway. “I-I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at 1.” He hung up the phone and sat it on the counter, grabbing the mugs off of it and dragging you down to the kitchen table. He sat down first, grabbing your waist loosely and dragging you into his lap. You smiled as he nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving little kisses as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Clingy, clingy,” you teased as he laughed, his hands fisting the shirt you wore.

“This is mine,” he mentioned matter-of-factly. You nodded, taking another sip of your coffee and setting the mug down before standing up and walking to give Blue her breakfast.

“Who’s house are we having lunch at this week,” you asked your husband, getting down on your knees to pull out the bag of dog food from underneath the counter. You poured some in her bowl, kissing her forehead when she ran over to eat it. When you put it back, you stood up only to have arms get wrapped around your waist.

“I believe we’re going to Ben and Bev’s,” he whispered, taking in a deep breath as he rubbed your stomach with his thumbs. “I guess I have to go start to get ready.” Stanley kiss your neck, pulling back and walking away, up the steps and into the bedroom. You sat at the table and finished up your coffee, heating the shower turning on. You showered at night and he showered in the morning, so there was never any conflict in the mornings when you both had work.

You washed your coffee mug out in the sink, going back up into your bedroom to grab your phone and the book you were reading. When you walked in, Stan was clad in a pair of jeans, drying his hair with the towel. He turned around and smiled at you when you made a big show of checking him out. You went to your bedside table and grabbed your things, standing on your tippy toes and kissing him on the cheek. You waited for him to finish getting ready, leaning against the doorframe and going through your texts. Stanley’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he walked with you down the steps. You both sat on the couch, and you leaned against him, taking your book and reading to him until it was time to go visit the Losers

———————

Ben swung the door open, engulfing you in a hug as Stanley laughed lightly, placing a hand on the small of your back to squeeze by you. You and Ben had been best friends while growing up, and it was no secret that you gravitated to him. Everyone thought you and him were going to end up together, and the group was pleasantly surprised when you and Stan announced that you guys were dating in your senior year. Ben kissed your forehead and pulled away, leading you inside and shutting the door.

“How’s the whole ‘trying to get pregnant thing’ going?” Ben asked in a hushed voice. You shrugged your shoulders, following him into his dining room.

“Nothing yet, but we’re hoping that I miss my period,” you replied back, giving him a soft smile as he kissed your forehead again.

“Holy shit!! Two Urises,” Richie yelled, breaking away from Stan to come and wrap you up in a tight hug.

He’d been away for the past few months on tour, so he hadn’t been able to come to try weekly luncheons. You pulled away from him, patting his chest and going to say ‘hi’ to all of your either childhood friends and their spouses. Bev wrapped you up in her arms, whispering in your ear the same question Ben had asked you. You shook your head as you pulled away, going back to where your husband was now sitting at the table. Stan immediately grabbed your hand, peppering it with kisses and you smirked.

“God, I was gone for two minutes,” you teased, causing his cheeks to dust a raspberry pink. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, can you?” You noticed that you had caught the attention of Bill, who smiled at the two of you smiling at each other and looking deep into the other’s eyes.

“C-can you guys not be cute for one minute?” he asked with a fake disgusted look on his face. “You’re even wearing his c-college tee.”

Now it was your turn to blush red, eyes casting down to yours and Stan’s intertwined hands. The rest of the Losers laughed at your embarrassment before Eddie finally spoke up.

“They’re more clingy than they were in high school,” he mentions, twisting his nose up in disgust. You throw him the middle finger.

“At least I’ve been in a loving relationship for twenty years and wasn’t afraid to admit feelings.” Richie laughs at this, looking over at Eddie and nudging his side before kissing his cheek.

You leaned over and kissed your husband’s cheek, the attention shifting from you both to how Mike’s month long stint in Florida had been. Stanley removed his hand from yours, wrapping that arm around your shoulder and taking his other hand to softly stroke the hand which he had let go of. You looked over at him, snuggling into his chest. Maybe you guys were too clingy, but you’d rather have him touch you constantly than not at all.

#stanley uris smut #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris #stanley uris headcanons #bill denbrough x reader #richie tozier x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #beverly marsh x reader #ben hanscom x reader #mike hanlon x reader #it chapter one imagines #it chapter two imagines #masterlist

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zashamalkin · 3 years

Video

youtube

Sport24 spent the whole day with Kasterova and found out how the wife of the three-time Stanley Cup winner lives.

Translation below the cut.

Sunday afternoon. The film crew and I drive up to the Malkins' house at 11:00. Anna's morning begins with a workout. The gym is located on the first floor of the house, where we meet the heroine and her coach Igor Kim, the CrossFit champion. “I always try to start the day with a workout, sometimes more intense, sometimes less. Today I will show you the standard workout that I do on the day of the broadcast. It gives a boost of energy, good mood, " Anna begins.

First, warm up on a treadmill for ten minutes. Then there are jumps and squats, several types of "planks". “I train almost every day. I make myself indulgences: one or two days. To be honest, in Moscow I train less often and less intensively . "

An obligatory part of the program is work with dumbbells. With them, Anna lunges. This is followed by exercises with TRX loops and on the machine. “We work a lot on posture, gait, ” explains Kasterov between approaches. While the trainer puts “pancakes” on the barbell, Anna talks about working with “weights” and her diet.

- You can't pump your ass without weights. This is unrealistic. And it's not a fact with weights. All have their weak points. I was once asked on Instagram the question: "Is it possible to pump up the ass in two months?" No you can not.

- Nutrition is also very important. - Of course! You kill so much in the gym, work for the result ... Well, what kind of rolls and gingerbread can we talk about? Already somewhere you have to choose steamed fish, vegetables. For example, now I don't eat sweets at all. In general, I have a sweet tooth: I don't eat fruits, but I like milk chocolate, kinders. But over the past two months I have not eaten sweets at all.

After squats with a barbell of 30 kg, jumping with an elastic band. The workout has been running for forty minutes, so it's time to cool down and stretch. At this time, Evgeny and Nikita Malkin appear at the door, who have come to say goodbye to their mother. Dad is taking his son to hockey practice. “When it comes to hockey, Evgeny is mainly involved. He himself sees and understands what load the child needs, how many times a week he needs to do it, ”says Anna.

After training, Anna leaves to get ready. And in a few hours we go to the Suistudio store to meet with Match TV stylist Ruslan Shakurov and try on clothes for the television broadcast next week. On the way, we discussed with Kasterova her return to the big screen.

- The news of your return to Russian television excited the public. When did you receive an offer from Match TV and how long did you think about it? - Everything always happens spontaneously with me. As practice shows, if you prepare for some projects for a long time, then something will definitely happen. We knew a lot of guys from Match TV, including managers, chief editors, and sound engineers, and worked together at Russia-2. We basically kept in touch all this time. Before the anniversary of Match TV (November 1, 2020, the channel celebrated its fifth anniversary. - Ed.) I got a call from one of the channel's top managers and invited me to a festive broadcast with Dima Guberniev. I was just about to fly to Sochi on vacation. I was very inspired by this proposal, immediately changed tickets, returned earlier and came as a guest presenter. The broadcast went easily, even there were such reviews: “We understand that you had a five-year break, but you worked so well, it was obvious that you were comfortable. Professionalism is not lost. How do you think about working while Zhenya is in Russia? " We discussed everything with the management, including Tina (Kandelaki, general producer of Match TV. - Ed. ). By the way, she just charmed me. An incredibly smart, wise, amazing woman.

- When the season begins in the NHL, will you fly with Zhenya to America? “I don’t want to reveal all our secrets, all our agreements with Tina. We have a specific goal with her for the next year, to which we are moving. Perhaps I will periodically appear on the air. I will stay with Eugene in the USA, then I will return to Moscow for a month. All this does not exclude my possible journalistic activity in America.

- Before the first broadcasts after your return, were you very nervous? - No. Many thanks must be said to Dima Guberniev, who was able to relax me, create a comfortable atmosphere, and it was all “for fun”. The first broadcast was easy, there was no excitement. Another thing is when I was offered to return. Here I am already responsible, I am the one who broadcasts with the guests. Before the first broadcast, I was worried. But everything went well. I know how to cope with nerves, years of work and experience have not gone anywhere.

- Has it become difficult now to combine personal life and work? - In general, I spend a lot of time with my child. Of course, now it turns out less. But you have to think about yourself somehow. All these years I really missed work, broadcasts, these feelings. Fortunately, I have a very understanding family. First of all, my husband, who supported me incredibly strongly. Before each broadcast, he tunes me in, gives me parting words. He's happy for me. Understands that I will not stay in Moscow forever.

- From the outside one gets the impression that your life in recent years has been ideal. Husband with son, Miami, high income and the ability to buy whatever you want. Why did you decide to return to television and what did you miss? - In general, I was not born in some kind of golden cradle. In order to achieve some results in my career, I had to work hard. Actually, it hasn't gone anywhere. Yes, we are definitely lucky. We have a wonderful life filled with comfort. But understand that there are pros and cons everywhere. This does not mean that I wake up when I want and do what I want. Living with a professional athlete is also a certain job. A lot of time and attention is spent on Eugene. He is the head of the family, he is the main earner. We are all adjusting to it.

The desire to work never left me. By the way, many acquaintances said to me: “Nafig do you need this? You already have everything. Live, get high. " But, probably, I am so arranged that I cannot. There was a feeling that I had not completely done something, that I still want ethereal emotions, sensations. It's like a drug.

- You are constantly included in the ratings of the sexiest and most beautiful women in Russia. When you open these articles and news, what emotions do you feel? - It is very nice. Recently, a rating of Maxim magazine was compiled, at first the publication announced a list of girls who were included in it. By the way, they have a very cool editor-in-chief Alexander Malenkov, we have known each other for a long time. He has a cool editor who deals with Instagram. And they wrote that I am one of the few who does not appear in the media, but at the same time do not lose the love of the electorate. For me, this is also a pleasant moment. We come to Moscow for just a couple of months, but nevertheless, people do not forget. The guys from my fan group leave comments under the posts all the time. Naturally, this attention spurs.

As for all these ratings, I will not say that it gives me confidence. I am a very self-critical person, I will find a bunch of flaws and flaws in myself. But, apparently, it means that people cannot be fooled. I like it, it's cool. I really appreciate all this.

***

- When you first moved to America to your Zhenya, how difficult was it to get used to your new life? Here you had a job, loved ones, and there is only him. - It was difficult, especially in the first year. A new country, people, a language that at that time was not at the same level as it is now. Naturally, there was a certain barrier. Zhenya was constantly on the road, plus pregnancy, no one canceled hormones. It was very hard, there was not enough work. I reflected very hard on this at the time.

- In the hockey world, it is often discussed that you spend more time in Miami, and Eugene in Pittsburgh. Doesn't he take offense? - It's all not true. I don't understand where it came from at all. I heard that from someone too. Miami just has more opportunities to take cool photos. And even then, if you look at my instagram, then there are photos from Miami and Pittsburgh approximately equally. But people are strange. If Zhenya leaves for three weeks, then, naturally, my child and I will fly to Miami. We, in fact, bought apartments there for this. Plus Nikita goes to an American school there, learns the language.

- Anastasia Ovechkina told me that if she and Sasha go to the shopping mall to buy groceries, they will recognize him everywhere and ask to be photographed. Do you and Zhenya have the same situation in the USA and Russia? - As far as Pittsburgh and Moscow are concerned, Zhenya is one hundred percent recognizable. Going out somewhere and not taking a picture with someone is unrealistic. He's so reliable. Now, maybe because of the coronavirus, he is somewhere afraid, after all, he is responsible for his family.

At first, his recognition was a problem for me. When we started dating, I understood who he was, but did not imagine the extent of his popularity. Going out somewhere to eat so that no one stares at you is really difficult. I don’t remember that. But now we already know certain places, we can sit in a separate room in the restaurant in order to calmly spend time alone or with a family.

- Is it unrealistic for you to go to Gorky Park with your family in good weather? - Get out this way we'll get out. But it will definitely not work out there quietly.

- Is the situation in America the same? - Yes.

- When you first started dating, was it difficult for you to get used to the fact that the schedule of the second person should be put first and your life should be adjusted to his schedule? - Now it's harder for me to talk about it, because I've already forgotten my feelings, whims. I'm used to being adjusted to me. But everything was smooth. Yes, and I fell in love, I wanted to please him, create a comfortable atmosphere so that everything in our family would be good. Everything was calm, harmonious, without any hysterics. There were, of course, small ones (laughs) .

- And you are still in a foreign country, alone. - Yes. Zhenya supported me. Sometimes, however, it seemed to me that he was not doing it enough. But then it passed, there was a complete mutual understanding.

***

For a pleasant conversation, we quietly reach our destination. In the boutique, stylist Ruslan Shakurov is already waiting for us. He takes a tour of the store, shows him the bows he likes, and we go to the fitting room. For the broadcasts Ruslan picked up three pantsuits: bright yellow, beige and blue with stripes. By a collective decision, we choose the brightest - yellow. In it very soon Anna will appear on the air. At the exit from the store, she even admits: “I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really a little tired of shopping” (laughs) . We go to a nearby coffee shop to discuss some more interesting topics.

- The first question suggests itself. Are you a shopaholic at all? - Well, in general, like any normal girl, yes. I love it. Cheers up. It's always nice to pamper yourself.

- In quarantine, your husband posted a video of how he plays computer games. Do you mind? And does he not involve his son? - Absolutely all children play with gadgets: be it a phone, an iPad. Of course, there are limitations. But I cannot completely forbid. He still pays attention to his peers, to older guys who play. I try to offer alternatives, some interesting games. As for Zhenya, I am also calm. Each person has their own ways to relieve stress: someone needs to go for a drink, someone has a smoke, someone needs to play computer games. I don't see it going off scale. Plus, he communicates with many guys there, who, like him, play. Zhenya is not the only hockey player. If it relieves stress, for God's sake. This is not the worst thing that can be.

- You have repeatedly said that you have a difficult character, both of you and Zhenya are hot-tempered. How is it in your family after unsuccessful games? - I relatively recently caught up to the end what my husband experiences after unsuccessful matches. When around, perhaps, no one noticed his mistakes, but he knows to himself that he played badly. I had such a broadcast when I was left very unhappy with myself, but everyone around liked everything and no one said anything bad. I went out and was not at all, because I realized that I did not spend it as I could, and reflected on this for several more hours. Probably at that moment I compared myself to Zhenya and realized that it was difficult to find some words at that moment.

In general, my husband doesn't have many bad games. Zhenya always shows himself, in almost every game. But if the match was not very successful, I step aside, do not torment me with questions and conversations. We had dinner, he went to play a computer game or read a book. At such moments I try to just not go to him. A person needs to be alone, to come to his senses.

- You somehow teased each other in the comments of Instagram. Is it the same in life? - Constantly! This is our communication style. Of course, in some moments there is tenderness, warmth. But we often joke about each other, everything comes from his side. Moreover, Nikita is becoming more mature, and her husband begins to involve the child in his events. It's funny! In general, in our family you will not get bored.

#evgeni malkin #anna kasterova #off season 2020 #moscow #match tv #sport24

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - All Star

Summary: A deep, dark secret about Ford is slowly revealed to his family, and he’s not ready.

For Skaleigh, wherever she may be...

~~~~~~~~~~

A few days after Weirdmegeddon, Ford was exiting the basement, taking a break from cleaning it out today. Stan had been recovering from his memory loss beautifully and so Ford decided to get a certain chore done on this rainy day. He could hear something, however, that made him freeze as a shiver ran down his spine and his race turned as red as his sweater.

“... start coming and they don't stop coming,

Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running.

Didn't make sense not to live for fun.

Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb.”

Recognizing who’s voice that was, Ford began to relax. The sweet smell of vanilla and sugar graced his schnoz and he followed the music to the kitchen. There, Mabel was in her little pink apron over her sprinkle-sweater, dancing around the kitchen as she mixed icing with food coloring in little bowls. The radio was playing on the kitchen table, a little dirty with flour, and the whole kitchen was a mess, but Ford couldn't help but smile at his beautiful niece as her hair flew everywhere as she danced and sang her heart out. When the chorus came, she banged her head and put the bowl of light-blue icing on the counter to dance more freely.

“Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play!

Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid!

And all that glitters is gold!

Only shooting stars break the mold.”

At the words “shooting stars”, Mabel attempted a flip and fell on her face, just like she did at the dance party at the beginning of summer. Ford winced and made a move towards her, slightly emerging from his hiding spot at the doorway, but stopped when Mabel sprung up, unhurt, and declared to herself and the kitchen, “I’m okay!” Her eyes landed on her uncle and she grinned. “Grunkle Ford! Whatcha doin’?”

“I thought I would take a break from cleaning.” Ford explained casually with a shrug while Mabel turned down the radio a little so they could talk better. “Having fun?”

“Yeah!” Mabel pointed to the twelve cupcakes that were cooling on the stove and said, “I’m making everyone a snack. Want one?”

“I would love one, my dear. Thank you.”

“Ah, ah.” Mabel wiggled a finger at him. “You have to do something for it, first.”

Ford raised an eyebrow at her and held his cleft chin. “Oh?”

Mabel opened the drawer she knew Ford kept his apron in and pulled out his old My Other Oven is a Bunsen apron. “You have to decorate the cupcakes with me.”

Ford grinned and happily accepted the protective clothing against stains. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair that I help you if I’m going to have one. Do we have to share with Stanley and Dipper?”

“Nope!” Mabel giggled. “We can eat them all ourselves! Six each!”

Ford laughed alongside her and she gave him a small bowl of white icing to color however he wanted. He carefully added a few drops of green, seeing how Mabel had already made blue and red and was working on yellow, and she began to dance a little again and she jumped into song.

“Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?

I need to get myself away from this place.

I said ‘Yep what a concept,

I could use a little fuel myself,

And we could all use a little change.’”

Ford chuckled, mixing the icing, and he couldn’t help himself; he made himself jump in.

“Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming,

Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running.

Didn't make sense not to live for fun.

Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb.”

Mabel gasped in shock for a number of reasons. A) She had never heard Grunkle Ford sing before. 2) She didn’t think he would know this song, let alone the words. And D) His voice was actually very pretty. Mabel grinned and they happily sang together until the song changed to a commercial for Cam’s Camshafts and they began to decorate the cupcakes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan yawned as he stretched his tired limbs. He had been sitting out on the deck of the Stan O’ War II, watching the sun set, and he was now in a sleepy trance. Time to put on some warm, fuzzy pajamas and turn on the little TV in the kitchen.

Stan went into his shared bedroom and stopped when he accidentally walked in on Ford in a towel, his back to the entrance and unaware of the intruder as he dug through his drawer for new clothes. Stan was careful to be quiet and give his jumpy brother some space, planning on leaving him alone, but something caught his eye.

During the Stanswitch, Ford insisted on Stan turning away, uncomfortable with what his twin might see. Despite Stan’s insistence that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, Ford practically begged him not to look, so Stan went along with it until he had shed his suit, leaving only his dark pants and undershirt, and he turned to switch clothes, but he found Ford bent over, his back littered with dozens of ugly cars, trophies for surviving out in the Multiverse for thirty years. Stan had thought that this was the reason for Ford’s modesty and thick sweaters (and okay, sure, the guy had always been a little chilly), but maybe there was another reason.

Stan grinned. No. Way. He slipped away, deciding he would enjoy making fun of Ford when he would least expect it, and he immediately left for the kitchen silently and quickly texted Dipper and Mabel.

A few weeks past since Stan knew Ford’s secret and he had pocketed it away as his “secret weapon”; of course, Dipper and Mabel knew and Stan wished he could have seen the looks on their faces or heard them laugh, but oh well. The kids swore to keep it between the two of them, but Stan wouldn’t be surprised if all of Gravity Falls kenw at this point. Something to look forward to this summer.

Stan had half-forgotten about Ford’s secret until they were at a small shop in Liverpool, England and something jogged the old conman’s memory. A CD was sitting in a 50% off bucket and Stan could have sworn a beam of light from Heaven was shining on the little box. Stan snatched it and hid it in his jacket for later.

The next day Stan couldn’t wait any longer. They were gently coasting on the Irish Sea, the spring weather being warm and calm and pleasant. Ford was out on the deck, reading a map, and Stan sat their radio down, the disc already in place. “Hey Sixer,” It took everything in Stan to hide his snicker. “Mind if I play some music?”

Ford hardly looked up from the map. “Huh? Oh sure, Stanley. Go ahead.”

With the biggest grin Stan had probably ever made in his life, he pressed play.

SomeBODY once told me the world is gonna roll me,

I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed.

Ford’s polydactyl hands clenched the map so tightly it nearly destroyed the papered material. He lowered it as his face blushed so furiously it matched his maroon sweater perfectly. Sweat was dripping from his forehead profoundly, his eyebrows were nearly hidden in his fluffy hair, they were so high, and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

Stan snorted, trying to contain his laughter just a little bit longer. “You like this song, don't you? Oh man, here comes my FAVORITE part!” And to make sure he could embarrass his brother as much as he could, Stan sang along.

“Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play!

Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid!

And all that glitters is gold! (I like gold.)

Only shooting stars break the mold.”

And then Stan couldn’t hold it any longer. He busted into a huge fit of laughter, holding his ribs and wheezing as Ford sheepishly lowered his head into the map and hid in shame. When the song was over and Stan was slowing down in his laughing, Ford snapped and spun around, crumpling the map down and scowling.

“How did you find out?!” He demanded, still incredibly red in the face, even his ears were pink.

“I’m your twin, Genius,” Stan huffed, whipping his eyes dry of tears. “I’m bound to notice a couple of things when stuck on a boat with you. I gotta ask, though, why in Moses’ name…”

“It wasn’t intentional, I can assure you of that.” Ford said to try to preserve his dignity. “I had fought a battle alongside a tribe of octopus-armed warrior piglets since they shared their food and water with me. They were quite friendly, unlike the gang of penguin-finned lizards we encountered. It is customary for their tribe to have a grand party after a battle is won in which they all get tattoos. I had misjudged how… erm, intoxicated their drinks would make me, and when it was my turn to get a tattoo of my choosing, I had a certain song stuck in my head and sung it out loud, so the artist delivered my drunken request."

Stan burst into another fit of laughter, one that oddly sounded friendlier than the last one. Like, Ford was supposed to laugh with him. Ford, despite still being very red and embarrassed, couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, man! That’s gotta be your best story from out in the Multiverse yet!”

Ford saw that as a challenge and sat in one of the chairs to get comfortable. “I can think of at least five better stories.”

Stan quickly sat in the other chair like an excited child for a new movie and Ford dove into telling of some of the more fun-filled adventures he had experienced.

~~~~~~~~~~

Summer of 2014 was upon them and the Pines couldn’t be happier. The kids were joyous to be where they felt at home, and even though the old sailors were living the dream, it would be nice to take a three-month break and see their favorite pair of twins.

About two weeks after an emotional reunion, the kids were gently reminded of something they had on their Summer bucket-list.

Much like Stan, they planned their little attack carefully so they may truly enjoy their uncle’s misery. The gift shop was open, but slow. Wendy was behind the counter, Soos was reading a comic book and sitting on a closed barrel, and Dipper and Mabel were grinning like crazy on the porch, the screen door wide open. Mabel popped the CD in the radio and turned up the volume.

SomeBODY once told me the world is gonna roll me,

I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed.

She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb

In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.

Mabel immediately jumped into rap-like singing, dancing around the porch. Dipper chuckled, hands in his pocket and tapping his foot, but Soos laughed, put down the comic, and took Mabel’s hands to dance. They giggled as they tried to sing along, and at the chorus they stopped dancing so they could sing the lyrics as loud as they could.

“Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play!

Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid!

And all that glitters is gold!

Only shooting stars break the mold.”

Wendy was banging her head, red hair flying everywhere. Stan suddenly showed up in his boxers and slippers, grinning, and said over the music, “I was awoken by the sound of mockery through pop music! I want in!” He bumped his hips against Dipper to make him move and he danced obnoxiously, making his nephew laugh and dance a little more enthusiastically.

A little later, at the halfway point of the song, Ford stood at the screen door with a puzzled look. “What’s going on…?”

“Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play!

Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid!

And all that glitters is gold! (I like gold.)

Only shooting stars…”

Ford looked like he had a sunburn on his entire face. He swallowed, making his Adam’s Apple bobble, and his jaw was tight. Stan laughed at his face and hollered, “THERE’S the man of the hour!”

“Come on, Stan Two, you love this song, right?” Wendy teased.

“Oh no…”

“C’mon, Dr. Pines, wanna dance?” Soos asked, still dancing with Mabel.

“Oh, here comes my favorite part…” Mabel chimed in.

“Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play!

Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid!

And all that glitters is gold!

Only shooting stars break the mold.”

Ford slammed the door shut. The five were as still as statues, wincing a little. “Did we take it too far?” Dipper asked.

“Ah, let the big baby be mad for a minute if he wants to.” Stan said, ruffing up his hat. “I’ll go talk to him in a minute…”

But then the door was kicked open by Ford’s boot and his friends and family were startled to find him heavily armed with water guns. “ONLY SHOOTING STARS BREAK THE MOLD!” He sang, and then shot everyone with water.

Everyone broke into hefty laughter and ran for it. The old scientist was hot on their tails, but Mabel managed to slip away to the closet filled with emergency water-guns and balloons. She hurried back to the battle and tossed everyone some weapons, and soon it was a confused mess of soaked clothes, loud laughter, and exploding balloons.

At one point during the fun fight, he paused to take off his glasses and wipe the water from them. Mabel accidentally bumped into his leg and smiled sheepishly at him, expecting to be sprayed without mercy, but Ford hoisted her up in his shoulders and they worked together. Up three feet higher than she was used to being, Mabel could see things she normally couldn’t. Like a certain tattoo barely poking out of the turtleneck, only visible because Mabel’s weight was pulling the sweater down enough.

She smiled at it, finding it very pretty, and in the midst of the chaos, considered the idea of one day getting one herself.

#GF #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #Mabel and Ford bonding #mabel pines #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #soos ramirez #fanfiction #all star #smash mouth #tattoos #legit i laughed for 3 days straight when I found out #now i cant listen to the song without thinking about it #a huge thanks to skaleigh for inpsiring me and making me laugh #love you!#hope you're doing okay

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

Text

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 5

Weak, cold, autumn light seeped in through drawn curtains, accompanied by the sporadic brrrrrringing of an alarm. The sound split the morning silence, tearing Eddie from his sleep, echoing through the entirety of the house more effectively than it was meant to. Eddie let out a groan, trying to reach out a hand and silence the mechanic screaming but just not being able to reach it- frustration sparked inside of his stomach for just a quick moment, and then someone else's hand came down onto the machine, cutting it off mid-ring.

"You set your alarm late," It was Stan, and, not really a surprise, he was already entirely prepared for the day, "Hurry and get up. I'll go make sure Bill is awake. Water is boiled on the stove and I made eggs, too." Stanley was dressed in a pair of bluejeans, as well as a knitted blue sweater he'd loved and worn for the last three years. His hair was styled into it's chaotic, curly perfection, swept gently to one side- he was smiling, a morning person, bright and ready for the day even though it was hardly 7:00 am. Eddie envied that constant 'ready-to-go' attitude Stan faced each new day with, when he- Eddie- had to will himself out of bed every time he opened his eyes.

"Thanks," He mumbled as Stan left the room, sitting up with a sigh and scrubbing his hands over his face to shake the sleep away. Eddie's jaws stretched wide in a yawn, and then he forced himself to abandon the comfortable warmth of his bed and crawl from under the covers. The air around him had a biting chill, the remaining after-effect of the rain that had been coming every now and again since Saturday, sending goosebumps breaking out over Eddie's skin as he made his way to his drawers, pulling open the topmost one to dig out a shirt. Settling on something simple enough, he pulled out a dark grey long-sleeved tee reading 'Back Pages' in bold white lettering and then 'Used Books and More' right underneath, in smaller print- Back Pages had been an- obviously- used bookstore from back in Derry, one of the only places his mother was actually moderately okay with him visiting. Along with the shirt Eddie pulled out brown pants and some miscellaneous belt, throwing the outfit together and running a comb quickly through his hair to tame the unruly bedhead.

"E-Eddie?" Bill's voice came from outside his door, probably in the kitchen, still thick with sleep, "Do you wuh-want tea? Coffee?" Eddie continued around his room, stumbling through the semi-darkness, shouting back his reply,

"Do you know where my chamomile is? Do we have honey?" Eddie grabbed his phone, head tilted towards the door as he waited for Bill's reply- at last, he heard something akin to an 'okay', but more of a grumble than that. With one last glance in the mirror and a silent 'you can do this, Eddie' that was meant to pep him up, he jammed his phone into his pocket and swiped his backpack from where it had been set by the vanity. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door right open, Eddie stepped out and hurried across the hall to the kitchen. "My tea?" He asked right away, his gaze darting between Stan, and then Bill, both seated at the small dining table in the far corner- a tall, open window sat behind them- the sky outside was dull and grey with the promise of yet more rain.

"Yeah," Stan nodded, motioning towards the counter right to Eddie's left, "It's poured and ready. Come eat, and hurry- I don't want to be late."

"We won't be late, Stan, w-we've got over an hour." Bill patted Stan's back as he reassured him, partially amused by the constant anxiety and worrying Stan never seemed to stop with- though, of course, that anxiety was pointed towards more realistic things, when Eddie's own anxiety was, in his opinion, stupid and trivial and downright annoying. Eddie poured honey into his chamomile tea, sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and then took a seat at the table. "Wuh-what classes do you guys have? I have English all d-day. Lit-literature and then luh-languages."

"Biology first, and then Mathematics." Eddie's eyes brightened at Stan's words.

"I have math second, too! Thank fuck- I suck at that stuff," Just as Eddie was about to continue, saying something regarding Stan and Bill's natural ability to do almost anything right, his phone beeped in his pocket and he remembered that he hadn't turned it on a single time since last night. He was quick to pull it from it's place, looking at his newest message- his brows screwed together, and he caught the skin of his cheek between his teeth, racking his brain to see if he recognized the unknown number that had texted him.

"What's wrong with you? Are the eggs bad?" Stan tilted his head, leaning in his chair to try and glance over Eddie's shoulder to catch sight of the screen of his Nokia. Eddie held it just out of sight.

"Do either of you know this number?" Rapidly, Eddie read it out, and it didn't ring any bells in either other boys brain. Bill shrugged, Stan lost interest- they both returned to their breakfast as Eddie read over the message once more. All it said was,

What ur schedule look like, penne?

It didn't make any sense. Eddie texted back and then put the phone down on the table to dig into his own food.

Who is this?

The eggs were great, as usual- Stan was one hell of a cook even though he'd only ever learned from his own personal trial and error. A light conversation was picked up again, the first topic being that of the rain. Eddie barked out a few complaints about the grey weather, how he was afraid to catch a cold and wished he had a thicker jacket and maybe rain boots, or a car, actually, yes that would be ideal. Bill said he liked the rain, Stan said he was indifferent but was enjoying the weather for what it was. Through bites of food and sips of early-morning tea, the three finished up their eggs and tossed the dishes into the sink, ready to go any minute now. Before Eddie could slip into his shoes his phone beeped again and he was quick to swipe it up and look at the response.

Come on conchiglie! U rlly dont rmmber me?

Eddie scoffed, his brows knitting together once more. Through his sleep-haze he couldn't think of a single person he knew that he didn't already have in his contacts- at least, no one that would care about his schedule. He had a few aunts and uncles that he hardly saw but they wouldn't be messaging him now of all times, he didn't think. And what the fuck was 'conchiglie'? Eddie was clueless- Big Bill, one shoe on and the other in his hands, pulled up at Eddie's side in a silent request to be shown what was so odd. Without complaint other than a sigh, Eddie shifted the phone over, and Bill scanned the texts before letting out a bark of laughter and sharing an amused glance with Stan that seemed to communicate everything.

"Oh?" Stan said with a cheeky grin, realization donning itself on his face, pressing in on Eddie's other side to read the messages for himself, "He finally texted?"

"What?" Eddie tried to ask, but he was ignored as Bill said,

"What's with the pasta names?" Eddie was way more confused now. Again, he repeated his 'what?' and again he was ignored, "Penne? Conchiglie? I don't g-get it. What an i-idiot." Oh- just like that it clicked together and Eddie's jaw dropped open. Penne, conchiglie- pasta... spaghetti... Eddie Spaghettie- Eds- Eddie- Richie.

"No, no no no no- Which one of you gave him my fucking number? What the hell?" Eddie jammed his phone into his pocket, rounding on Bill and taking in the expression on his face- it was amused, sure, but Eddie could already read the tiniest lines of innocence forming in his features. The way Bill's gaze flickered for a tenth of a second towards Stan told Eddie everything that he needed to know. "Stanley Uris what did you do?" Eddie spun to Stan, hands on his hips, glowering upwards at the much, much taller boy. Despite forcing every ounce of intimidation into his words as he could, Stan was grinning from ear to ear, sinister and ultimately unthreatened- his eyes were bright as stars and gleaming with mischief. "You know I hate that guy! He's- He's- He's so annoying! He's loud and he's rude and he's- I can't believe you!"

"Edward," Stan said in an even, polished tone, redirecting his gaze to slip on his shoes, "One of these days in the near future you'll be thanking me for getting you out in the world," Bill let out a snicker, and Eddie jammed his elbow into his ribs, silencing him effectively, "You need friends who aren't just me and Bill. Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- they're nice people, and you need to get out of that shell of yours."

"Oh, you're on to talk!" Eddie crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just after to put on his shoes in a huff, "You're ten billion times more shy than I am, Stanley. I'm just fine with only you two as my friends, I don't need other people- I mean, I went 19 years of my life with no one but you two! I survived Henry fucking Bowers with just you guys to keep me safe! I don't need other people in my life." Now, Bill was cutting in and the tension in the hallway to the front door spiked upwards. Eddie realized now that the entire topic of conversation was about to change for the worse- shit, he'd let his mouth run, and now he was going to be pitied. Eddie hated pity. It made him ill.

"E-Eds, you cu-can't go your entire life with o-only me and Stan. I mean," Bill chuckled, his eyebrows slanted sympathetically, "I know we're g-great and all, but your muh-mother has kept you from having healthy social t-ties for your whole life. It's healthy to have more than o-one or two friends." The mention of his mother sent a tidal wave of homesickness propelling right over Eddie's head- a bitter, frightening, nasty homesickness- and suddenly he felt like curling up underneath his covers and crying his eyes out, but he wouldn't. He balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth together, and turned to the door. His bag was slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go." Eddie kept his head low and pulled the door open, pushing out into the hallway and going straight for the elevator without another word. Bill didn't want to let the topic drop just yet, but a nudge and a shake of the head from Stan was enough to get him to do just that- the shake of Stan's head said let him have this one, Big Bill. It's his first day of school. Give him a break. And so, the conversation was over, to hopefully be picked up again at a later date.

-----

Richie, earbuds in, King of Rock 'N' Roll playing at full volume, burst in a flurry from his music classroom and made a beeline for the stairwell at the end of the hall. Like some agile snake or cat, he dodged and weaved between other students as they poured from their own respective classes, determined to break out into the sunlight and share his contentedness with his friends.

"Tozier! Don't run in the halls!" Some teacher scolded him, but as Prefab Sprout continued jabbing away at his eardrums he didn't hear it- and he didn't really care to hear it either- he was too busy riding the high that the schools new set of drums had given him. Ever since Richie grew so involved with the rock genre and everything alike, he had wanted to learn to play the drums but had never been given the chance until today. Now, Mr. Carr had basically had to chase Richie from the class with a broom like he was some sort of radical street rat. With his big, goofy grin Richie sent himself flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time and not even wincing at the way his knees protested with every heavy landing. The doors to the outside were within his sights as soon as he touched down onto the first floor. Still pushing past other students, not even bothering with any courteous 'pardon me's' he was at them in an instant. In time with the thudding of the music, he shoved the doors open and went, quite literally, dancing and spinning out into the warming sunlight, which had just begun to peek through the clouds. From across the large expanse of concrete just outside the doors sat an emptying bike rack, and leaning against it he spotted more than the usual quantity of familiar faces.

"Top 'o tha afternoon to ye, Haystack, sor! An' Mr. O'Hanlon, awful good!" As Richie pulled out his earbuds, music so loud it was still audible even as they dropped to hand at his side, he took a dramatic double-take and let out a loud gasp, "Well, if it isn't so!" Now, Richie was the Southern Bell rather than the Irish Cop, and he was taking Bill's hands in his and fluttering his lashes through his thick-framed glasses, "Sir Bill, and your noble companions! What have I done to be graced with your presences, my fair gentlemen?"

"You know you'll ruin your eardrums listening to your music that loud, right? You can't fix Tinnitus- and if you go deaf you'll have hearing aids for the rest of your life." Eddie gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes flickering down to Richie'e earbuds, which were dangling dangerously close to the dirty ground- much too close for comfort. Eddie almost shuddered.

"Aw, thanks for the concern Spaghetward!" Richie let go of Bill, moving for Eddie instead, and slung his arm enthusiastically over the shorter boys shoulders. In return, as if it were instinct, Eddie let out a sound like the croak of a frog and ducked away with a grimace.

"Don't call me that, jackass!" Out of the entire group, the only one who was observant enough to note the faint red tint on Eddie's face was Mike, and he wasn't going to call the poor boy out on it.

"I see you're all getting along swell, huh?" Richie's dark gaze shifted from Ben and Mike to Bill and Stan, and then, lastly, to Eddie, where they lingered for just a second longer.

"Stan and Eddie were in math with me," Ben says with his small, kind smile, "Stan is some sort of super-genius or something- Eddie, too. I don't get it." Without missing a beat, Eddie let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head furiously.

"No, no no, don't lob me in with Stanley. He's the super-genius, I just nod my head and act like I know what he's talking about." Stan was quick to decline.

"Oh, don't say that. You're getting it."

"Hey, Bev's in working at the cafe today- are you guys interested in stopping by with me, Rich and Ben?" The next one to speak was Mike, and his offer was met with a cacophony of different replies; Ben seemed content with the idea, his smile going wider at the thought; Bill was quick to agree, and Stan was much the same, though Eddie didn't see to thrilled. He let out a sound as if he was going to speak, but then he clamped his jaw shut, mouth a straight line, and bit his tongue. Richie himself was positively ecstatic. His already bubbly mood was only amplified by this suggestion, and his grin was so bright it could blind.

"Oh, you have to come! The sun is out for once, you can't go curl up in whatever cave you're renting. Whaddaya say?" Swinging his backpack off his shoulders, Richie pulled his walkman free and clicked the 'pause' button, then proceeded to, unceremoniously, jam both it and the earbuds in his bag once more.

"I'm down," Bill said, glancing at Stan, who nodded, and then at Eddie, who shrugged curtly and stared intently at the ground below his feet.

"Great!" Zipping his bag back up and throwing it onto his shoulders, Richie moved to lead the way, and before the group knew it they were off, headed for the campus' outskirts and following their trusty guide, Richie Tozier, towards Portland Authentic. The stroll was quaint, amiable- Stan hung near the back with Mike and Bill, pointing out the different types of birds they spotted on the walk. Richie had thought every bird here in Portland was just some old rock pigeon, but now he knew that there were actually mourning doves as well. Ben was at Richie's side, hands in his pockets, his neck craned so that his face was upturned towards the sunlight. Eddie was, though reluctant, to Richie's other side, desperately trying to tune out the bird talk behind him. His annoyance was evident, but there was also a subtle fondness in his soft, brown eyes that showed how much he cared for Stan and his passions.

"Does he talk about pigeons a lot? You seem peeved." Eddie almost jumped right out of his skin at Richie's sudden words, having been totally spaced out in his desperate attempts to disassociate. Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck.

"Oh, uh," Eddie's gaze darted over his shoulder towards Stan, and then to Richie, and then back at his shoes, his worn black Converse sneakers, "Yeah. He loves them, but... I don't know why. They kinda-" Eddie cut himself off with a shrug, his hand dropping to his side once more, "Kinda gross, don't you think? With their weird feathers and their gross feet? All of their, like, diseases and shit?" Richie's cheeks had begun to hurt from the stretch of his smile. Something today was just making him giddy. His chest was tight with unadulterated glee, and it felt like something was pushing around in his stomach, like butterflies. Eddie was so impossibly earnest. The affection in his gaze directed at Stanley was heartwarming, the exact same kind of best-friend love that Richie had with Bev, Ben and Mike. Despite Eddie being disgusted by birds he was clearly still glad that Stan had something to be so passionate about- cute.

"I dunno," Richie said, a tilt to his head, "I think birds are kind of cool. Especially magpies? Oh, God," Richie took a few steps ahead, and then spun on his heel to walk backwards, facing Eddie and talking animatedly with his hands, "If I had the chance I would have a pet magpie. They're so pretty- their feathers look all blue in the sunlight and stuff, and they get so fluffed out when they're pissed." Eddie looked dumbfounded, his brows furrowed, his jaw dropped- disgusted, that was the word for the expression he wore.

"Are you fucking kidding me? A magpie? Those stupid, nasty black birds with the white chest? Jesus, what's wrong with you?" Running a hand over his face, Eddie let out a huff- Richie's smile grew, somehow, if that was even possible, at the distress his words seemed to have caused in the smaller boy. Seeing him all worked up like this made that weird feeling in Richie's chest grow tenfold. Brushing that thought away, still walking backwards, he let Eddie continue. "They don't know how to shut up. Every Spring, ever Autumn- they would be screaming away at the crack of dawn. I could never catch a wink of sleep. My mommy used to fire at them with my dads old BB gun, but she never hit any of them."

"And thank fuck for that!" Richie scoffed, playful, "Those poor things don't deserve to be shot." Eddie countered with a quick 'yes they do', and then the bickering continued. Their back-and-forth, the lighthearted, heated-on-Eddie's-end banter felt perfectly natural. Richie would say some quip, some little thing about magpies that he found nice or cute or interesting, and then Eddie would come right back at him with why that was false. Richie probably should have been listening to these comebacks, but he found himself getting, more often than not, distracted by little things like the cinnamon-dusting of freckles across the bridge of Eddie's nose or the way his chocolate-toned hair was swept so tidily to one side, not a single hair out of place. Sooner or later, Portland Authentic had come into view, the glass windows showing through to the bustling interior. The after-school rush had just hit, and boy was Richie glad he had the day off today. As he pushed the door open, the bird conversation cut short, he noted exactly how busy it was. The line was huge, nearly reaching the entrance, and almost every single seat was taken except for one four-person table in the back corner.

"I'll get the table." Stan's tone was serious, his gaze determined, "Get me a-"

"B-Black coffee, yeah," Bill was smiling, waving Stan off with one hand. At once, with a final nod of affirmation, Stan sped away to secure the seats. Though Richie didn't say anything, he thought to himself how the hell can someone like black coffee? because there were so many other options, sweet drinks, savory, peppermint or rich chocolate- drinking straight black coffee as a regular was basically a sin in his eyes. Slow and steady, the line progressed, Bev behind the counter working with two other people named Britney and Mason. Richie wasn't too fond of them and honestly pitied poor Bev having to deal with them all alone. It had been a good two or three weeks since she's been stuck in a shift without Ben or Richie at her side. Finally the group of five arrived at the till and Beverly's face brightened like a Christmas tree.

"Rich! Ben! Mike, Bill, Eddie- Great to see you guys, my God, today has been absolute hell-" She seemed to notice she was getting sidetracked, and shook her head, frazzled, getting back into her working head space. "Sorry. What can I get you guys?"

"An affogato for me, my dear, and- Hey, Eds, do you like ice cream? Whatever- Get a second one for him, too. He needs to branch out a little." Eddie gaped, seconds from a retort as Richie ordered for him, but then Richie stepped aside and shot him a glance that was unusually sincere. "Hey, don't worry. It's another low-caffeine one, and it's more vanilla ice cream than anything else. You'll love it, I swear."

"Yeah, fine," Eddie set his jaw tight.

"One bl-black coffee and an amer-amer-am-" Bill bit his tongue, screwing his eyes shut, and then, with a sigh, forced out the words, "americano. Jesus." Bev gave him a calm smile, a silent 'it's alright, dude' and turned to Ben and Mike who ordered a coffee with two creams and two sugars and a lemonade. Richie offered to pay, abusing his employees discount, and then the group all turned to the table in the corner where Stan was still seated with a book in his hand. As the group approached he placed the small origami crane he used as a bookmark between the pages of The Shining and tucked the novel away- the front cover had been battered and frayed, a sign of having been read and reread for years and years. Clearly, the book was cherished.

"Great choice, Stanny," Richie complimented with a nod towards Stan's backpack, where the book had been hidden away, "You a fan of horror?" Stanley was quick to shake his head, hugging himself gently and running his hands along his upper arms.

"I hate it. Bill is making me read it. It's torture." Bill let out a barking laugh as he took his seat, having pulled up an extra chair from another table. Two people would have to squish into the corners since this spot was only meant to seat four- no one seemed to mind.

"So you're the horror fanatic, then. Glad to see we have something in common! What's your favourite movie?" Taking his own seat on Stan's other side, Richie held his head up with his hand, elbow planted on the tabletop, his curiosity officially piqued. Ben and Mike weren't fond of the gore-packed stuff Richie enjoyed, so Bev was the only one who ever went to the theater with him; the idea of having another friend to catch some films with was just swell.

"That's tough to suh-say," Bill tapped his finger against the table, glancing sidelong at Eddie, "We went to see H-Halloween a few years back. I luh-liked that one a lot, but now wh-whenever I see it I think of when your m-mom found out-"

"Shut up, Bill," Eddie cut him off with a harsh glare, and then forced his expression to soften, covering up his snappiness with a red face and a sarcastic, "D-Don't remind me." It was clear he was embarrassed- Richie would have pressed, since he couldn't keep his trashmouth shut sometimes (all the time), but Beverly saved the day by hurrying over with a tray balanced precariously on one hand. Atop that tray sat the array of beverages that the group of six had ordered. With Beverly's fantastic memory, she began to hand out cup after cup to exactly who had requested them; Ben got his double-double, Mike his lemonade, Bill his americano, Stan his black coffee (Beverly knew it was for him even though he hadn't been at the till- not many people ordered coffee black and she remembered him from that first night.). Richie and Eddie were given their double order of affogato, an Italian coffee-based dessert consisting of a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a shot of espresso on the side.

"Thanks, Bevvie," Richie bid her adieu with a two-fingered salute and then turned all of his attention towards Eddie, "Alright," he began, "Eds,"

"-Don't call me that-"

"-you're about to taste the best thing you've ever had in your life. Follow my lead," Richie plucked up the small one-ounce shot glass of espresso, and, reluctantly, Eddie did the same. In tandem, they poured the coffee over the ice cream, then grabbed their spoons. Eddie was the first to take a scoop, shooting Richie a glance that he couldn't decipher before taking the bite. For the quickest second his eyes seemed to light up, and then he swallowed down the obvious delight and simply shrugged his shoulders.

"It's alright, I guess," He grumbled, and then proceeded to devour the next bite of the treat. Richie grinned wide, taking a scoop of his own and lifting it into the air, accepting his victory.

"I would like to propose a toast!" He called, and all eyes turned to him, "To Stuttering Bill, Stan the Man, and Eddie Spaghetti- Welcome to the Losers Club!" With a cheer from nearly all- Eddie settling for a small smile- the group burst into friendly chatter. Richie's toast held some sort of unseen monumental weight- everyone felt it- even Beverly, who was behind the counter and working away, had paused to raise her water bottle with bright eyes. Though everyone felt it- it, being that feeling of rightness- no one said a word. It wasn't necessary. Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike had been a quartet for a few years now, as thick as thieves- they had called themselves the 'Losers Club' and, until Eddie, Stan and Bill arrived, the four of them had been the only members. No one could be certain what had changed, but, just like that, all seven knew that they were a singular unit. It was no longer Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike. Now, it was Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike, Eddie, Bill and Stan. The Losers Club with a capital L and a capital C.

In a fleeting moment, Eddie caught Bill's gaze, and held it. The redhead was wearing his leadership smile, that easy-breezy full-face grin that so easily gained him respect. Once the two's eyes clicked, that smile shifted into something else, something softer, something that Bill reserved for Eddie. It was a brotherly smile- After all, Bill was the brother Eddie had never had. Bill was the rock, the island in the middle of the ocean, the one thing that never failed to keep Eddie sane, the solace in the storm that had been his mother, and was now the unfamiliar territory of Portland. In that smile was an unspoken promise, as well as something else. The promise was These people will keep you safe. The 'something else' was Bill's pride- his pride in Eddie. I'm proud of you, Eds, the smile said. You're doing great. For the first time in his life, Eddie was fearless. His own smile said Thank you.

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #edde kaspbrak #stan uris #stanley uris #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the losers club #it #it movie #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2019

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years

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Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 1

Ugh. Stan’s whole body felt like lead. The thin layer of straw beneath him was tickling his nose and poking in places he really didn’t like being poked, but he didn’t care enough to move. At least he had space to lay down. He’d spent enough nights crammed into his car, unable to stretch out or move his cramped legs, to appreciate having some actual space. Even if that space was covered in annoying straw.

He let out a heavy sigh and the room suddenly got quieter – he hadn’t noticed the soft, steady scraping of a pen on paper until it paused, and now his ears pricked up to search for it again. (Ears? He hadn’t slept while Shifted in ages). The scraping continued a moment later.

For a moment Stan was transported back to his teenaged years – flopping in his bed, exhausted after a tough boxing match, and being lulled to sleep by the sound of Ford quietly writing into all hours of the night. Except back then Stan wasn’t in the form of an oversized canine, and he’d been well-fed, and it was Ford there instead of some stranger, and Stan could actually remember where he was and how he’d gotten there-

Wait.

Stan cracked open one, a few motes of dust filling his vision before he blinked and they cleared, allowing him to see the stupid hay right next to his face. Hay – why was there hay? Where was he?

He forced his groggy head up to take stock of his surroundings – iron bars every which way. A cage. He was in a cage. It was in the middle of what looked like a dusty shed, smaller cages and other tools hanging on the walls and oh god he hoped they weren’t torture devices. Who would want to torture a wolf anyway? Evening, or maybe early-morning, light streamed through a high window and lit up a small square of floor, where a person was sitting cross-legged a safe distance from the cage.

Person – person, cage, danger. A low growl rumbled through Stan’s chest and he bared his teeth in a warning. The guy had better not get any closer, or he would be down an arm. And maybe a throat.

The person froze at his growl and looked up from writing in some book, glasses flashing in the weak sunlight and making Stan flinch – before he recognised the face behind them and his growl petered off into stunned silence.

Holy shit. Ford?

It couldn’t be Ford, but – but it had to be, with that undisguised curiosity written across his face, unruly brown curls, and – yep, that cinched it – the six-fingered hand holding his pen.

Ford was there, and Ford was staring at him, and Stan was still in wolf form in this stupid cage. He couldn’t help but stare back. It had been years since he’d seen his brother. Ford was less twiggy than he used to be. His shoulders had filled out and his jaw was squarer than it used to be.

Well, Stan reasoned, it had been… what, seven years? They had both changed. Some more than others.

“Morning.” Ford’s voice broke them out of their unintentional staring match. He recommenced writing in his journal – writing or sketching, Stan had no idea. “I suppose you’re a bit sore, which is understandable after the night you had. You’re lucky I convinced Dan not to beat you to death.”

Who the heck was Dan? And why was Ford talking to a wolf? Fuckin’ nerd. Stan opened his mouth to ask some of the questions burning on his tongue, but they came out as a doggish huff. Oh right, the whole wolf situation.

Stan carefully rose, testing out his bruised and battered body. He ached all over but he didn’t think anything was broken. Thanks, luck, for not totally screwing him over. His left shoulder, in particular, was burning – he must have strained something. Now Stan could vaguely remember the events of yesterday; mostly, his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere. He’d been starving, he had to eat something, had to hunt, so he’d Shifted and gone in search of prey. He’d hurt his shoulder making a sharp turn while trying to catch a deer.

He kept chasing it until he’d gotten kicked, ended up somewhere that wasn’t the forest – a barn house maybe, but all he could focus on was the tiny animal in the front yard. That tiny, stupid dog. It had been yapping at him furiously like it could take him in a fight and he’d been so hungry.

And then there was yelling, and steel-capped boots and a heavy stick (holy shit was that a shovel) and he was too weak to put up much of a fight.

Stan’s lip curled in disgust. He hadn’t even managed to take a bite out of that stupid Chihuahua. There was the good old Stanley Pines luck rearing its head again. Well, he wasn’t dead yet. He had that going for him.

Ford was glancing up at him occasionally with calculating eyes. Stan sighed and settled back onto the floor. He didn’t have the energy to force a Shift right now, and there was no use scaring the nerd. Ford blinked at him before mumbling to himself, pen never stilling.

“Hmm. I thought you would have been more… concerned, to be in captivity. Perhaps you’ve had contact with humans before. Of course, it’s illegal to keep wolves as pets, but this is Gravity Falls.”

Gravity what-now?

“And you’re certainly not an ordinary wolf.” Ford continued thoughtfully. “Far too large, and your proportions are off. I wonder if you’ve been affected by the natural weirdness of Gravity Falls? The size-changing crystals may have played a role in… hmm…” He went back to scribbling in his book.

Great. Now Stan was just another science experiment. The sooner he could Shift and tell Ford who he was, the sooner…

What? The sooner Ford could kick him out? Stan had ruined his entire future, there was no way Ford would be happy to see him.

In a twisted way, Stan might be safer as an object of study rather than a potential enemy. Besides, he didn’t think he could face Ford’s ire. And if there was a chance Ford would find out who he was and keep him trapped anyway… a specimen to study… no, he wouldn’t take that risk.

Stan would just have to escape when the chance presented itself. Until then, he could play the part of the wolf.

A nice wolf, obviously – no fucking way was he gonna attack his own brother. No matter how much of a dipshit the guy was being.

Mind made up, Stan went back to napping. Or pretending to nap, because he couldn’t exactly relax with Ford’s eyes constantly on him. He must have drifted off at some point though because he awoke with a start at a very close scrape. Immediately Stan’s fur stood on end.

Ford had slid something into the cage. Stan was resolved not to take any handouts until the scent of raw meat hit his nose and he forgot that he was supposed to be a human at heart.

He snapped up the slab of meat in slavering jaws, shivering when the savoury-salty-metallic-food taste of blood burst across his tongue. He hadn’t eaten in so long.

All too soon the food was gone. Stan licked his chops and couldn’t hold back a pitiful whine.

“Still hungry?” Ford called from across the shed, where he was digging in a fridge Stan had missed before. “No wonder; I can see your ribs from here. You’ll have to wait for me to get more though.”

Ugh, Ford was taking so long. Stan nudged the food bowl with his nose, pushing it out of the cage with the hope that getting the dish back would speed things up. Ford sent him a weird look but Stan didn’t care as long as he got more food.

The creature was certainly not an ordinary wolf.

It didn’t take an expert eye to see, either. Its – his? – shaggy fur was matted and clumped, a far cry from the sleek coats Ford had seen in the wolves native to Oregon. Its claws were a little too long, its fangs a little too jagged, its form too barrel-chested and shoulders too hunched and hulking – and the creature itself was much larger than any wolf Ford had seen. When standing, its back might reach as high as his waist. Ford was sure that the only reason Dan had managed to subdue it was the pitiful state it was currently in. At peak health it would surely be a formidable beast.

And there was something intelligent in the gleam of those amber-yellow eyes. Something… considering.

However, the creature was was much more well-behaved than the usual specimens Ford managed to obtain. It lay quietly in its cage, occasionally getting up to stretch before lying back down. After the first incident it made no attempt to growl at, attack or otherwise threaten him. It had even returned the food dish every time he fed it.

Ford couldn’t make any conclusions until he had more evidence, but the data he currently had strongly suggested that the creature had once been domesticated. An escaped pet, perhaps? He decided to test his hypothesis.

Once Ford finished his sketch he stood by the cage, treats in his pocket (borrowed from Dan). The wolf cracked open one eye to watch him warily, as it had been doing when Ford moved.

Hmm, where to start… probably with the more common commands. If the wolf had been domesticated it would probably have been taught some basic commands at the least. Ford waited until both its eyes were on him before lifting a hand and saying clearly, “Sit.”

The wolf continued to look at him.

“Sit.” Ford tried again, with no luck. The wolf was paying attention to him but it made no attempt to follow his orders. He sighed. “Come on, work with me here.”

The wolf blinked slowly.

Ford reached into his pocket and pulled a treat out of his pocket, rolling it in his palm. The wolf’s gaze seemed to have a lot more weight behind it now. The creature seemed to be considering.

“Sit.” Ford said again and, with, a huff, the wolf picked itself up off the floor and sat on its haunches.

Ford gaped.

“You actually know the command. Oh gosh, you must be domesticated! I wonder how many of your kind there are. A whole new species of wolf? Wolf-mutt? What other commands do you know? Do you lay down too? Lay down!”

The wolf shot him an eerily intelligent look – a look that clearly said ‘you want me to cooperate, you’d better pay up’. Ford sighed and tossed the treat into the cage, where the wolf attempted to catch it, only to have it bounce off its snout and roll out of the cage again.

Ford picked it up and tried again. This time the wolf snapped it out of the air with an audible clack of teeth. Sated, the creature settled back onto its belly.

“Is… is that you obeying the previous command? Or just lying down?”

It put its head down and closed his eyes, so Ford assumed it was the latter. He sat back and picked up his journal, hands buzzing with excitement. So his initial hypothesis had been correct; the creature had belonged to someone. It evidently hadn’t been cared for for a long time though, given its current state. Was it a pet that escaped? But if it had run away from its owners, Ford doubted it would be listening to his commands – however reluctantly – as it was doing now.

A loyal pet, then, but one that had not been taken care of for a while. Had it belonged to one of Gravity Falls’ supernatural inhabitants? That would explain its… abnormalities.

A sudden thought hit Ford suddenly, and he squeezed his pen tight.

“I wonder… there are countless incidents of people adopting young pets, only to abandon them when they get bigger or… odder. Are you one of those?”

The animal’s ear twitched. Apart from that, it gave no sign that it was listening. Ford bit his lip.

“Maybe that’s why you have no home. You were good, and they still tossed you away because you weren’t normal.”

Now the wolf lifted its eyelids to gaze at him; a heavy, thoughtful stare. Ford sighed and chewed on the end of his pen.

“Well, wherever you come from, I can’t keep calling you ‘wolf’. You need a name. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

The wolf yawned and stretched.

“I thought not. Let’s see.” Ford hummed to himself. “Something’s wolf-like? Lupus? Lupin? No, that’s silly.” The wolf was watching him judgmentally and Ford frowned. “I don’t see you offering anything better. Well… you are quite the mystery – an enigma, if you will. But that’s a bit too obvious, isn’t it? Not a very good name.”

The wolf snorted. Ford ignored it.

“A… a mystery, a puzzle, a… rebus!” He jumped up excitedly. “A rebus! It’s a puzzle! And it sounds similar to Remus, a figure from Roman mythology who was said to have been nursed by a wolf. See, it has layers!” He pointed out gleefully to the wolf, who did not react, because it was a wolf.

Ford deflated.

“Maybe Fiddleford is right and I should start talking to other people.” But… “I don’t have time right now, I have research to do! I’ll talk to people next week.”

The newly christened Rebus closed his eyes again, apparently content to ignore Ford’s presence when there wasn’t food or shouting involved. That was all right. Ford had plenty of time to win his trust! With the recent roadblock he’d hit in his studies Ford had been planning to hike to the caves in the nearby mountains, to see if they held any clues or answers. But he supposed that could wait until he figured out this new mystery.

#writing #My writing #My fic #fanfiction #gravity falls #the stans #werewolf stan au #werewolf!stan

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kingofthecon · 3 years

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@femmechanceux

#1 "You know what rhymes with Bugaboo? Me and you." It was a pretty boring night of patrolling so naturally Chat Noir decided to fill the air with anything and everything just to keep them both entertained. His vibrant green eyes focused more on the task at hand - keeping an out for trouble - than they did on his partner, but when his eyes did meet her form for an extended period of time he couldn't help but grin. Running around Paris late at night with a lovely lady by his side helped him to forget about his life outside of costume. It helped his mind come up with all sorts of entertaining ideas which drove away all the reality shattering ones that came with common sense - one of the recent things being what'd happen when they finally defeated Hawk Moth. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that one day they would actually catch Hawk Moth slipping and manage to not only take him down and retrieve his Miraculous, but also learn his identity and lock him away forever, but what would come next? They wouldn't be able to keep their Miraculous anymore, would they? Sure there would still be crime left in Paris, but that could be handled by the officers of the law instead of vigilantes like them. What did that mean for his friendship with Ladybug? Would they just...no longer be able to see each other? No, that was stupid. Ladybug might not be interested in him because of her crush on someone from her life outside of the mask, but that didn't mean they couldn’t be friends. They'd make a way. "It's been a lot of times recently where it's just been me and you, and though I do love spending quality time with my leading lady, I can't help but wonder when the ball's going to drop. I don't want to jinx it, but the last time we found someone who was akumatized it was Mr. Pigeon and that was nearly a month ago." He had most certainly been keep tracking. Between the photo shoots, collabs, and interviews along with school, his fencing class, and a few side activities, there wasn't much of any activity from Hawk Moth. He doubted the man had suddenly fallen off the face of the Earth, but there had to be something at play. Then again his sidekick, Mayura, had been hurt in her last confrontation with the rest of them. Maybe the two of them were an evil couple and Mothy had to take some time out of his akumatizing schedule to take care of her? It was sweet even though they were both evil - taking joy in turning people into their minions all in a vain attempt to get the Cat and Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, what if her sickness was the reason why Hawk Moth was trying so hard? Maybe the reason they'd shown their costumed faces was because of desperation, and Hawk Moth had gotten a mad power-up from her to boot. She hadn't been in the game until recently so maybe that was it? It was something he'd been speculating on a while now, but hadn't had enough evidence to support this theory which meant he hadn't said anything to Ladybug about it. He probably should at some point, but not even now seemed like a good time. "He's too annoying to just give up and go on vacation, so maybe he's wrapped up in some supervillain HR meeting where they talk about their failures and how to go about achieving their goals while eating muffins from the cafeteria." It was random and probably outlandish. The goal was to make her laugh, especially when he was about to say something that might cause a bit of an issue between them. Yeah, butter her up before telling her that he won't be around for a little while because a friend of his father had done some contest and had picked three kids from nowhere to take on as apprentices or something and Adrien would be with them for a while. It was just a publicity stunt and collaboration thing, but it was an extra added activity and with everything else he had to do something needed to be cut out, and it wasn't like Ladybug only had him to rely on considering she could dish out the Miraculous to other people. It would be fine. "I don't think there's any crime afoot tonight," he offered teasingly after they stopped near the Louvre for a break. He stretched both arms over his head and yawned before flopping down in a cross legged position. "Which is convenient because...well, I won't be uh, be around for the next few weeks at least." Best to just rip off the bandage. "My family is going to be particularly busy and I won't be able to get out of certain obligations so if there's an emergency you'll have to get one of the others. I'll try to sneak away, but you'll have to treat any threat that might crop up like one that I won't be able to help you fight in." Just saying that made him feel like crap. If an emergency came up and someone got hurt because he prioritized taking pictures with some contest winners over fighting crime then he would have to live with that guilt, but his father would be watching and if he even tried to get out of something like that the consequences would make him being Chat Noir period even harder when things weren't incredibly busy. If he wanted to keep being being a hero then he was going to have to do whatever it took to keep his father off his case. This was one of those situations where there were no good options to take. "I'd better head home. I have to wake up early. Well, earlier than usual." He turned back the way they'd come, which was in the opposite direction of his home actually, and ran off. He was out of his lady's sight he changed the direction and took a different route home. He de-transformed, fed Plagg a few pieces of Camembert and raced the rest of his way home - entering through the front gates and not stopping until he was in his room.

"Okay Sixer, how'd this happen?" Triplets Stanton, Stanford, and Stanley sat in their shared bedroom - Stanley and Stanton; or Shermie as he liked to be called - sitting on either side of their brother Stanford as he read the letter in his hand for the fourth time in silence. There had been a bit of a contest months ago created by a man named William Chiffrer. He was looking for individuals with a wide variety of talents that ranged from athleticism to intellect. Stanford had of course sent filled out the necessary forms on top of going above and being by writing an entire essay about why he believed he should be chosen...he'd also sent out the necessary forms for his siblings and tricked each of them into writing a bit of an essay of their own. He didn't think any of them would be accepted. William was a man of many talents, but what had caught Stanford's attention was the man's intellect. William had the ability to create his own language - something that he and his siblings had done when they were younger...little ciphers that only they could understand, but William? As far as Stanford knew the man had at least three different languages of his own under his belt, a company that didn't seem tethered to him, and ideas of deep sea and space exploration that he had no qualms with sharing to the masses. In other words, the man was an actual genius who had absolutely no problem flaunting it. Stanford was envious, intrigued and well, William was his idol. That meant he wanted to learn from him and this contest? This contest would be his one shot. He, however, didn't want to go in alone. The sound of someone playing with a paddle ball close to his face caused him to jerk to attention. His eyes traveled to his left where he saw Stanley, the sibling that was identical to him minus the fingers, waiting impatiently for an answer. To Stanford's right his slightly older fraternal sibling looked unimpressed already having an idea of what'd taken place though the chances of all three of them being picked was...highly unlikely. "It's not that difficult to understand," the middle triplet said as he pushed himself off the bed and paced the center of their bedroom floor. "More so, improbable. The chances of the three of us getting chosen for this opportunity of a life time is simply astronomical. It's--" "Not the question, Poindexter. Sherm and I didn't enter this sleaze ball's contest. I know I suck at math, but I'm at least a hundred percent sure that us not enterin’ means we both hadda zero percent chance'o winnin' anything. Howzat possible, I wonder." One look at his brothers had rooted to the spot - both hands behind his back as his started to get nervous. Stanley continued to play with his paddle ball, but his attention remained on Stanford while Shermie let out and exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I was thinking. Well, of course I know what I was thinking. It would be incredible to have William Chiffrer as a mentor. His vast knowledge of the world and its inner workings - despite being quite controversial - has merit and have been shown to be more than just plausible. This man has plans to change the world and the means to do it and it would be remiss of me to pass up the opportunity to work under the man himself. I just did not wish to go alone so I took the liberty of signing contest forms for the both of you while feeding you false information about an extra credit essay where you had to convince the President of the United States of why you would be a great addition to the White House." "Wait, that's not what you told me," Stanley said with narrowed eyes while slowly lowering the paddle ball. "Errhm, yes well, you having to convince a potential suitor's father of why he should let you date his daughter seemed more plausible than the Presidential angle, I'm afraid. Now, even if only one of us came out victorious in this raffle the winner is permitted a plus one! Had either of you won instead I would have hoped that you'd allow me to tag along." "And yet Pa calls me the shyster. I am so proud of you.” Stanley wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Stanford glares at him before turning his attention towards Shermie who’d finally lifted his head. His expression was exasperated yet thoughtful making it clear that he, at least, wasn’t going to make such a huge deal of out it. Between Stanley and Shermie, the latter was much more academically inclined and when opportunity struck he tended to let it in and treat it like a friend. Paris, France was a place that these three boys from New Jersey would never in their wildest dreams imagine being able to visit - not with how much of a penny-pincher their father was. For a while all there had only been a pair of glasses between them which Stanley and Shermie had agreed to let Ford have indefinitely. ”This is a once in a life time ordeal, isn’t it?” Shermie questioned after letting the silence linger. They were teenagers with no real funds to their name. If they went to college it would have to be on a scholarship - Stanford had at least four lined up, Stanley could possibly go for football, and Shermie had his hands in a little bit of everything. Other than that, there was nothing for fancy trips to far off lands like France, so right here? Right now? Yeah, it definitely seemed as though this was going to be one of those once in a lifetime deals. The brothers looked at each other, Stanley sliding off the bed to punch Stanford in the arm before leaning against his shoulder while Shermie continued thinking. Finally he stood up and crossed his arms. "That was an underhanded trick you pulled Ford, but I can't say that I blame you and a trip to freaking France? The City of Love? We'd have to be crazy to pass up the opportunity." "Ugh, love," Stanley griped, immediately turning sour causing Shermie to look a little guilty while Ford rolled his eyes and elbowed him good-naturedly. His breakup with Carla McCorkle had been a messy one. Karma seemed to strike at both Carla and the boy she'd cheated on Stanley with, Thistle Downe, in the form of someone riding his van into a ravine. According to reports it had been someone dressed up in some sort of costume with a tail. Either way love was currently a big flaming no-no in the Stan Triplets's bedroom...except for Shermie. "Perhaps it would be in your best interest to invite Veronica along, Shermie." Ah, the turns immediately tabled as Stanley's frown disappeared to be replaced by the biggest, doofiest, mischievous grin he could muster while Shermie's face turned a nice shade of tomato red. He sputtered while Stanley darted out the room to make the call leaving Stanford to block his big brother in - the commotion the duo made their mother had to warn them about roughhousing in the house and to take that mess outside. Stanley snickered, his Ma gave him an idea. Outside and to his car he ran after hearing his brothers on the stairs. When they realized that Stanley wasn't inside the brothers raced outside to see Stanley checking his pockets for his keys. Suddenly Stanley was on the ground laughing after having been tackled by Shermie which left Stanford - innocent little Stanford - to head back inside and make the call himself. "Hello, Mrs. Carlyle? This is Stanford Pines. Is Veronica there?” There’s a particularly loud wheeze from outside that catches Stanford’s attention. He looks to his Ma and shrugs before going back to his call. “Hello, Ronnie? You won't believe the good news. Do you recall that contest I entered for the trip to Paris, France to study under THE William Chiffrer? Exciting news. Not only did I win, so did Stanley and Sherman. I...will explain later, but each of us gets to bring a plus one. I am cordially inviting you--"

Talon had seen the threat coming a mile away and he actually tried to draw attention to what was going on. With him being who he was he held rank in his uncle's organization, but it only extended so far especially when the side of evil thought they'd had the victory in the bag. It was the same song and dance time and time again. They thought they had the inspector, he'd goof around and somehow come out on top with the help of his niece, and then Claw would vow vengeance the next time they crossed paths. It got old, and Talon was tired. He was tired of constantly losing when he knew that he had the skills to come out on top. In fact, he was pretty sure he could overthrow his uncle instead of working as his underling, but as things were? His street cred had plummeted. All the losses caused by Penny and her uncle set him back time and time again. The villain circles he ran in started giving out awards for the most failed missions and he had somehow gained the lead. It was embarrassing and degrading and it was about time he'd think about his future. If he wanted to show the world he was more than just that bumbling oaf who happened to be Claw's nephew then he needed to branch out and re-establish himself, perhaps even go back to the drawing board. It was when he realized that no one was going to heed his words did he decide cut his losses. He'd grabbed Penny and her dumb dog and pulled them to safety with the parting words of, “Catch ya later, Penny,” before going back into the fray. He had a mini force field surrounding him which was, in theory, supposed to be strong enough to protect him from any type of explosion. He didn't think he'd actually be in a situation where he'd be testing this out, but he didn't have too much time. He was looking for something in particular before things went side ways. It was as though his eyes landing on his prize was the trigger which launched the explosion. He cursed, a bright light blinding him before he was propelled off his feet and backwards. He clicked his heels together until the rockets activated, and he hastily righted himself, but he still slammed against through the wall behind him. He should have snapped his back. He should have been covered in flames, but instead survived - barely able to get a handle on the situation. For one thing his force field was still holding up and he’d managed to what he’d gone back for - a bejeweled box which was what his uncle had been after. Luckily whatever he was holding was also covered by his forcefield. Not only that but this explosion was the chance he'd been waiting for - to get away from his uncle and lay low, preferably with a family member that was on the opposite side of the law. You know, a good guy. It helped that he’d been straddling the fence for months now - working with HQ a bit due to some sob story he’d fed Penny which meant he definitely had an alibi. People saw him save Penny. People knew that this scheme of his uncle’s had absolutely nothing to do with him. Whatever happened here couldn’t be pinned on him. Talon’s boots were totally ruined when he activated them - they only had a few seconds of righting him before the thrusters at the bottom went off in mini explosions that luckily hadn't harmed his feet - and found an agent of Claw that was roughly his size though totally unrecognizable. He removed his boots and shoved them onto the remains and dragging it over to a still burning flame. His forcefield protected his feet from the heat, but it wouldn't hold for too much longer. Even now the heat was already starting to penetrate and he had to run. With the forcefield having protected him from the brunt of the explosion some of his other tech remained as well. There was a prototype cloaking device he'd had installed that ran on the same 3D holographic projector tech he tended to use for a quick and easy disguise. He swapped modes and from his belt a little barely noticeable light extended, scanned his form, and bent the light around him making him appear invisible. He made it half a block invisibly before the forcefield conked out with the invisibility following next which meant that his 3D projector was also down for the count. He paid it no mind as he'd taken that into consideration and made sure to avoid any areas that seemed busy. He didn't need anyone to see him running around barefoot and covered in soot. Besides, no good villain worth their salt went around town without a cache of some sort and he was near his closest one. It was a rundown apartment building which, on the outside it just looked a little lopsided; could use a little TLC. On the inside? Oh, the building looked as though it should have been condemned before his Uncle Claw was born. It was perfect, and it was where Talon cleaned himself up, changed into a set of clothing that was not his typical purple though did include another set of rocket boots, and combed his hair flat on his head giving him those infamous "Boy Band Bangs" which were partially hidden by the hood from the jacket he'd decided to wear. He left the apartment and, despite knowing it was a bad idea, made his way back to the scene of the explosion. There were HQ agents, a bomb squad, the fire department and of course police officers everywhere as well as a crowd. He spotted Inspector Gadget who'd apparently made it out unscathed as usual, and he even saw a few of Claw's men being apprehended. He shook his head. There had never been a fight between him and HQ that had gone so far in as long as he could remember. He clicked his tongue and whispered, "C'est la vie," as he walked away - washing his hands of this botched operation as well as his Uncle Claw - for good. Once far enough away and pulled out his cellphone, took a deep breath and placed a call he'd never thought he'd make. "Hey Billy. It's, ugh, Tristan*. Is that offer for help still on the table?" William Thaw* sounded visibly confused on the other end of the line, most likely because he'd been sleeping at the time. When he realized that his cousin was in need of help he woke up just a bit more. "You need a place to stay, Mr. Big Shot Criminal?" That was not the tone that Talon was hoping to hear, but it wasn't entirely unexpected either. Most if not all of their family was evil including Billy's dad. Even their grandma was evil, but no one had really given Billy the memo so he turned out to be one of the good guys. With him and Talon being roughly the same age and having lived together with their grandma for a while, there was always some form of disagreement or the other, especially when Talon had learned of their family's history and chose to follow in their footsteps. It was why he'd swapped his name from Tristan to Talon as a sign of respect for his then role model Dr. Claw. "Is this the part where you give me a huge speech about right and wrong or heroism because if it is you can save it. I’ve branched away from Uncle Claw months ago and a good thing too because he messed up big time. I tried to tell him his plan was bunk from the get-go, but he went ahead with it anyway even after I warned him about a gas leak. Then I tried to tell the stupid henchmen that the explosives they were planting were going to trigger an even bigger explosion but I’m not on the payroll anymore and apparently a bigger explosion the better. They were so concerned with making sure they got Gadget - that’s their entire thing but...Usually no one gets fatally hurt and a few people did. That's not the kind of villainy I signed up for." For a moment he thought Billy'd hung up on him, but then he heard the ruffling of blankets and the clicking of what must have been a lamp being turned on. "People died?" "One as far as I was able to tell. I was caught in the blast too. ForcefieId tech saved me and I managed to get a few people out before the blast but yeah. I'm sure it'll be on the world news if it isn't already." "What do you want from me, Tris?" Hearing that nickname hurt. "I want to initiate protocol Redo." "Never thought you'd say that." The sound of Billy getting out of bed could be heard. Moments later the sound of a computer or laptop being booted up sounded through the line. "Tell me about it. I thought I had everything planned out. Didn’t take into account that Uncle Claw’s gotten senile in his old age." "Luckily we're both deceptively smart and plan for things that we don't think we'd ever need then, huh?" "You call that luck. I call that being smarter than everyone else. Even if you don’t think it’ll ever happen to you plan for it anyway, especially in this line of business.” ”Especially.” Talon finally stopped walking when he reached a twenty-four hour fast food place where he plugged in his phone and ordered something so that he wouldn't be bothered. "I assume you handled Talon?" "Died in the explosion that took out a few senior HQ agents and a few of Claw's henchmen. Identifiable only by his rocket boots." The line was silent aside from the clicking of keys. Talon ate silently while he listened to his cousin work. A few hours of Billy working he finally came to a stop. "Tristan Thaw is in the system once more. You did a thorough job of wiping him out. Can't say that I'm surprised. I've altered Talon’s files. You're now your own twin, congratulations. You were put up for adoption at a young age but there was a missing person's report due to you running away. Your file was closed because you were presumed dead. People will most likely stumble upon this now while trying to pull up information about Talon so...in the off chance that that happens. Call me, and I will say I've been hiding you in my dorm." "No. I can't do--" "You will, Tristan. Despite the incredible foolishness of this family it's the only one I have. Despite how everyone around me is a bad guy from the worst comic book tropes I've ever read, this family still manages to take care of each other. I'm in a boarding school because I didn't want to be part of the family business. Someone in the family is paying for me to be here. You've protected me inadvertently a few times, and Uncle Claw has taken me under his wing a time or two, and I am also the first person grandma taught her cookie recipe to. The point is, despite this family being nefarious in every sense of the word, we ALL protect each other, and you came to me for help. You did what you could to stop something horrible from happening, and it happened anyway. If worse comes to worse I'm sure Uncle Claw would help--" "Gonna stop you right there. I don't want his help, otherwise I'd have gone back to the lair. This is...let him think I'm dead. You're the only one who’ll know the truth." "Of course. Well, if you can manage to get from where you are to Paris there's an apartment that seems to have been paid for. Has been in my name for a while. I'm thinking Grandma made me a few safe houses just in case I decided to turn rotten, but you can stay there." "Thanks Billy." "You can thank me by not pulling this stunt again." "Or I'll just say thank you and move to your safehouse."

---TIME SKIP--- ONE MONTH LATER

When Billy told him about the safehouse in Paris he probably should have expected the place to be pretty well furnished and in a decent part of the city. It wasn’t exactly flashy, but it would probably garner the attention of his neighbors. Luckily he had a backstory figured out, a passport, a birth certificate and other documentation that he needed. Luckily for him there was nobody looking for him, and even if they were they certainly would have no reason to look for him in Paris. It was the perfect escape for him, and definitely gave him time to himself. He didn’t want to drop the villain thing, but if he wanted to become a huge contender then he was going to have to change his image. He was going to have to one up the competition and finally...he was going to have to down his uncle. For now, he had to start small. For now he had to blend in with the masses, build up a bit of a rep while staying in the shadows until he could build his own empire. Luckily for him he had a few connections already.

The three dorks staying across from him had arrived a few days after he moved in and made quite the impression. The one with the six fingers had bumped into him and apologized profusely for not paying attention to where he was walking and flailed his hands a bit. Talon, or rather Tristan made the faux pas of commenting on his fingers aloud which seemed to cause some embarrassment. Another boy, had to be a twin or something, heard the remark and was making his way over with his fists clenched causing Talon to remark that he’d never seen something so cool before. It seemed to be the right thing to say as all three of them somewhat relaxed while heading up the stairs. That’s where Talon encountered the third of them realizing that he was staying across from a set of triplets. It was a bit awkward at first, before the boy with the glasses answered his question about what they were doing in Paris. “I didn’t know that Willy had a contest going on. You guys must be pretty smart if he chose the three of you, and siblings to boot.” Of course Talon knew very well that Willy wasn’t exactly a good person. The guy was sophisticated in public, but in private he had a bit of sadistic streak and was pretty psychotic in some instances. Yeah the dude was an actual genius, but he also gathered great minds and exploited them. The fact that he’d gathered three brothers, triplets no less? Something was definitely going on. “You say that as though you know the man personally,” Stanford stated while his brother, the one with the slightly darker hair (Shermie) opened the door and Stanley carried some stuff inside. “Not at all,” he immediately shook his head. “I tried to enter his contest before as well. I actually made a hoverboard--” “Like from Back to the Future?” Stanley asked as he kicked his box into the room. Talon nodded and said,"Exactly like that," while Stanford looked skeptical. That was the start of their...he wouldn’t exactly call it a friendship but it was pretty close. --------------------- Adrien hadn’t been expecting to be invited to the triplet’s apartment building after their initial gathering and photo-op with William and his father, but he had accepted the invite anyway seeing as it would allow him to spend some time with teenagers his age while using his father’s tactics against him. “I was supposed to meet up and help the Pines’s today for an hour before meeting Kagami for our fencing lesson? His father had simply nodded through the tablet monitor that Nathalie was holding. Adrien took off soon after that with G manning the car. When he’d arrived at the apartment it was to an open door and the triplets arguing over what they wanted to do first. There was also another boy there, arms crossed and back against the wall with a smirk on his face. Adrien had the feeling that he’d been the cause of this little argument. “Am I early?” he’d asked which drew the triplet’s attention. “Yer right on time, Aiden.” “His name is Adrien, be nice.” The identical brothers bickered between themselves while Sherman shook his head and beckoned for Adrien to come inside before closing the door. “Just go. It’s not a big deal.” All eyes turned to Talon who pushed off the wall and raised his hands. “Of course it’s a big deal! He can take his girl all over Paris after we celebrate. We’ve been here for a week and haven’t burned our apartment down. This is a cause for celebration! Let the Pines Brothers party for a day,” Stanley argued with his arms crossed. Shermie just covered his face in his hands and sighed. "Or we can go get Ronnie since she may as well be a Pines, grab some snacks and celebrate here?” “Stanford Filbrick Pines--” The two outsiders watched in amusement as Sherman tried to grab the six fingered boy who ducked behind Stanley and then into the kitchenette practically dragging the loudmouthed boy with him. “So um, who are--” “I live across the hall. Gotta admit these guys have been the best entertainment I could have possibly asked for. What about you, Mr. Agreste? Working a charity case here?” Adrien was partially confused and partially offended by the question. “Not at all. I was invited over.” “Oh, that makes more sense.” He hadn’t elaborated on that making Adrien narrow his eyes before the triplets re-emerged from wherever they’d been in the apartment. Stanley had his arms crossed while Stanford was scowling. Shermie looked far less ruffled than the other two which meant he’d proven his point. "Sorry about that, you two. The plan is we’re going to call my friend to have her meet us here then head out for a celebratory get together. Since you two are the only people we know here we’d thought you’d be up to joining us?” The fact that Adrien had made three new friends who wanted to hang out with him brought a smile to his face, but then he thought about his obligations and the other friends he’d had to turn down. His smile turned a bit sad before he shook his head. "I’m really sorry you guys, but I can’t stay for very long. My schedule is booked solid. The only reason I was able to slip out was because I told my father that I had to help you three for an hour before I have to practice my fencing.” Talon lunged at the air in front of him, swinging around an imaginary rapier before snorting, “Can you be any more of a cliche?” Even Stanley cracked a smile at that before lunging towards Talon with his arm out, the two of them swiping at each other with their invisible weapons, Stanley beginning to talk like a pirate while Shermie was in the process of calling Ronnie to let her know of their plans. “Ignore them,” Stanford said while giving his brother and Talon a glare that went completely ignored. “It’s what I do when they get like this.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” was Adrien’s annoyed reply. A second later he found himself being dragged into the sword fight by Talon before Stanley grabbed an unwilling-to-participate Stanford. “My first mate will absolutely swab the deck with ye’s!” “Stanley no.” “Cap’n Lee thinks he kin board me ship and spread ‘is tall tales, but we’s a learn’em.” “Tristan don’t encourage him!” Stanford’s words went ignored as Talon managed to grabbed a decorative pillow from the couch and chucked it at the six fingered boy yelling, “CANNON BALL!”. Taking it as an immediate out, Stanford dramatically fell to the floor, sat up and positioned the thrown pillow beneath his head, and then laid back again. “Nooooo, Sixer! I shall avenge ye!” He ran towards Talon only to be intercepted by Adrien as he slid in front of the other boy. Stanley’s eyes widened, surprised at Adrien’s speed, and he tried to stop before colliding. Adrien moved out of the way as quickly as he’d come while Talon remained there holding out another of the pillows which he used to smack Stan in the face as he came to a stop. Stanley dropped to the ground dramatically like Stanford had and made gurgling noises since the unwritten/impromptu rule was that the pillows were cannon balls. The four boys laughed before Stanford got up and put the pillows away with a shake of his head. Stanley was glad to have managed to get his brother to participate. It had been a long time since they’d done something like this and it made him think that this trip to Paris was a good idea, especially after having met “Tristan’ and Adrien.

#femmechanceux #—Swindler's Folly #► Opossumus Prime #► Triple Threat #► Gadget HQ #—X-0vers #Tristan is Talon's name in the French version #William Thaw is the son of Dr. Thaw #Billy and Dr. Thaw are both from Gadget and the Gadgetinis #Dr. Thaw is Dr. Claw's Twin

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