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phykios · 3 years

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Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12).

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog.

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation.

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.”

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut.

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass.

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other.

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.”

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets.

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…”

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks.

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.”

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up.

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…”

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements.

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.”

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.”

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?”

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun.

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.”

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response.

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?”

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.”

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper.

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise.

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release.

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all.

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene.

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says.

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…”

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea.

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?”

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--”

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much.

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.”

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit.

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses.

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles.

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door.

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen.

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom.

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street.

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing.

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things.

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.”

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else?

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says.

“Who are you working with?”

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question.

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?”

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks.

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile.

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice.

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…”

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared.

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear.

Annabeth, behind him, coughs.

“S-sure. No problem.”

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him.

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend?

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice.

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far.

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?”

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps.

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly.

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…”

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?”

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock.

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before.

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his.

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could.

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.”

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan.

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today.

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor.

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit.

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision.

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…”

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.”

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him.

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together.

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together.

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all.

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time.

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him?

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode.

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust.

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner.

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks.

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops.

He squints at one of his doodles.

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar.

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books.

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response.

Percy approaches the table.

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra.

Percy picks up the book, squinting.

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself.

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares.

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look.

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?”

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness.

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch!

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth.

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?”

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance.

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes.

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?”

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes.

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask?

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.”

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says.

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.”

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.”

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head.

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21.

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music?

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth.

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly.

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill.

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it.

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…”

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake.

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window.

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos.

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.”

Jamie looks up.

There’s a four year old staring at her.

“Hi,” Jamie says.

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks.

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her.

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.”

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers.

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.”

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit.

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him.

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin.

She really should have just stuck with German instead.

#my fic #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #perseannabeth #darkmagyk #percy should be a classics major and here's why #the percy major for the stem hating author #also i feel like i have to say:#1) classics conferences are not like that #2) if only it were that easy to get the bm to return looted antiquities 🙄#pjo fic #percabeth fic #percy jackson

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all-things-fic · 3 years

Note

Harry FaceTime MC and baby Edie to show his Grammy challenge

Grammy Daddy // A Quarantine Harry interlude

This may not be much but I’m trying to dip my toe back into the fic world. The other piece is still coming (no pun intended) for the Grammys but I probably won’t be able to give it entire attenton until the middle of next week. Hope this tides everyone over! x

***

The sound of cries from the baby monitor woke you. They weren’t cries of distress which made the sound less of a shock to you being newly awakened but you reacted all the same.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, there was a heaviness to your body that hadn’t been felt in the longest time. Your eyes swept over your master bedroom and lingered on the empty side of your usually shared bed. Not long enough to dwell, but long enough to recognise that you were parted.

When filming had finished, you and Harry came to the joint decision that going home would be best for both you and your baby girl. Harry was still needed in Los Angeles for commitments and would be joining you in time for him to quarantine in preparation for another movie.

It wasn’t a decision that the two of you had made lightly. It was one however, that had him beginning to burn the candle at both ends once it had been decided, just to ensure he was getting enough time with Edie before the two of you parted from him.

Reaching for your phone and letting your mind wander, your feet sluggishly padded across your bedroom floor and into the room next door.

The nursery here in London was unfinished.

If that thought had entered your mind at any other time of day it would’ve annoyed you, but thinking it at just shy of 4am meant that it went in one ear and out the other.

That didn’t mean it didn’t stop your eyes taking in everything.

The barely decorated walls which still held paint swatches and baby furniture still yet to be made. You were grateful that the cot and the changing table which held storage for clothes had been a priority before the rush of Harry’s work even became a thing. You were even more grateful for the rocking chair, set up in the corner to use for nursing, than ever before.

Soft shushing sounds had already begun to leave you subconsciously as you walked closer to your daughter. Her cries were still consistent but not getting any louder.

Looking down, you hated seeing the way her pretty face crumpled with upset and had started to get pink. Usually when you came to find her after sleep she would be looking up at you with her big, captivated eyes and provide you with a crooked smile very similar to the one that belonged to her Daddy.

You slowly lifted your hand and gently rested it on top of her stomach. Her tiny body shook as her arms were reached out either side of her. Your eyes quickly surveyed the situation in which you had found yourself, noting the way her baby blanket had been kicked off her while she slept.

“‘S okay baby, Mommy’s here,” you soothed, voice whispered as you watched the way her crumpled face started to soften and her cries lessened. You were sure her abrupt awakening had come from being cold, her body not quite used to the changing of locations and climates. “Did someone get cold? I think they did.”

You heard your voice now, the way it had taken on that tone it usually adopted as you spoke to you little girl. Part of you loved it but the other part was willing you to get out of it sooner rather than later, wanting Edie to pick up talking correctly initially rather than understanding “baby talk”.

Reaching down you gently lifted your daughter out of her cot, the blanket swiftly picked up with your left hand and threw gently towards the rocking chair. “Mommy’s here baby, Mommy’s got you,” you whispered, lips held against her temple as she gently rested her face in to your neck.

You naturally took on a rocking motion, as the cries of your daughter began to subside once more. The tension of her tiny body fading as she relaxed in your arms having previously taken on a tremble when you reached for her.

“Just us girls together,” you continued to speak to her, feeling her soft breathing hit your neck as she calmed.

Spinning around you located the rocking chair in the corner and quickly pulled at the dirty washing, which had been thrown on the seat by your own hands much earlier in the night, and let it fall to the floor before you sat.

Once comfortable you skilfully unbuttoned your pyjama shirt one-handed, like second nature and pushed the item open, guiding your grizzly daughter to your left boob. She latched with ease, her tiny hand lifting to rest gently atop your flesh, her fingers flexing slightly to softly grip.

With your spare hand, you stroked over her hair and down the centre of her nose watching the way the motion caused her eyes to flutter. She always opened them back up once you moved your hand back to the top of her head, and the way she immediately zoned in on you again caused you to softly smile down at her.

“Didn't fancy sleeping through this evening then?” You directed your question down to Edie.

Talking to her as she fed was something that you had ensured you did the minute she comfortably took to your breast.

You had read somewhere, and so had Harry, that even from when a baby is just a newborn, by taking up speaking you would be teaching your baby important language skills every time you verbally engaged. This also included singing. Babies needed to hear language before they could start talking. You were supporting and loving your baby by talking to them, even if they were unable to talk back yet.

Thinking about it, maybe you should revel in the fact that she couldn’t talk back yet.

“Maybe next time save the late nights for Daddy. Really welcome him home, eh?” You heard your amused lilt as you spoke and enjoyed feeling joy regardless of the ungodly hour.

At the mention of Harry, you felt the buzz of your phone in the pocket of the joggers you had commandeered from the man himself. Using your right hand, you quickly fished the item out from where it was nestled against your thigh, having no idea who would be contacting you at this time and quickly read the screen.

Wanting the time on the clock to be purely fictional rather than reality, you accepted the FaceTime call from your husband and if you didn’t feel so corpse-like you wondered if you would dread how you were going to present yourself to him.

After you accepted his FaceTime call, you had expected to see his face almost immediately. Instead you were met with what looked to be the inside of a suit jacket. Whatever it was, it looked to cost a pretty penny.

Slightly loud and boisterous noises caused your thumb to go into immediate action by pressing down the volume on your phone, your eyes averting away from the screen to drop down to your dozing baby girl as she gently fed from your breast.

“Bro,” you heard his drawl, followed quickly by a slightly laughed and shrieked, “What?!”

You were beginning to wonder if he had forgotten about you, before the phone moved again and you saw his face. Even held at an unflattering angle he was infuriatingly attractive.

His eyes glittered through the screen, slightly manic no doubt from the alcohol that had been consumed, a checkered mask looped around us ears and pushed under his chin.

The two of you stared at each other through the screen, both trying to read each other regardless of the 5,437 miles between the two of you.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, as his lips broke out into a larger grin, one side of his mouth slowly raising higher than the other.

He hummed with a slight eyebrow raise, lips rolling into his mouth to curb how overwhelmed and happy he was. “Might have.”

“Harry,” you breathed his name.

“Love you, darling,” he replied. “Didn't think I’d get you.”

“Someone woke me.”

Your eyes dropped down to your daughter who seemed to be more alert now from the additional sound of a familiar voice. She stared at you with a wonder that never failed to make you catch your breath. The amount of love in her big eyes, something neither she, nor you, were able to fathom.

As she kept your eyes, you heard his voice, “She said my Daddy is a Grammy Daddy, wake up Mummy we gots some celebratin’ t’do.”

#Harry styles #harry styles fluff #Harry styles blurb #quarantine harry #sorry I can’t read more at the minute

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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years

Text

My god

Summary: After 4 years after loki died from the dark elves...except he didn't

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral (m receiving) honestly just some soft ass smex, sooooome angst but very little

Notes: As i've said i dont give 2 fucks if your 18+ or not sO continue on spawns of satan (the end of the smut is meh but the rest is 10/10)

You rolled over in bed groaning. Sleeping wasn't something that came of ease for the past 4 years. Everytime you close your eyes you saw loki in thor's arms slowly dying. You screamed so loud that day falling and crying. That was the day the biggests storms hit every planet.

See your powers were to control the weather of every planet. You were essentially mother nature. You sat up from your bed sighing before standing up. You walked to your bathroom, splashing your face with water you looked up seeing the dark bags under your eyes. Thor worried for you after everything but then he had to go and help the avengers with something.

Hes been gone ever sense. You walked to your kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water. you chugged it before feeling tears fall down your face. “fuck” you whispered to yourself before wiping the tears away. you sniffled and put the glass in the sink. you were about to walk back to your room when there was a knock at your door.

You grabbed your knife before slowly walking to the door. Who could be here at 4am? you opened the door a crack before seeing a face that could throw anyone off. loki. You walked off from the door and loki was confused but walked in. you grabbed a book and turned throwing it at him. it hit him in the chest. “I'm here” he said looking down at the book. you nod and turn in a circle. you scoff before walking towards him. You slap him, his face is jerked to the side.

He looks back to you. “ow” he said neutrally. “ok mhm” you said before grabbing his face with your hands. “fuck you asshole fuck you and everything you are” you screamed at him. The pain you felt was astronomical.

Loki just stared as you yelled at him. “I hate you!” you yelled over and over while punching his chest. You felt tears fall down your eyes. Finally all the pain and grief hit you seeing him in front of you. Loki grabbed you and hugged you. “I know im sorry im sorry angel but im here im so sorry” he said rubbing your back.

You pulled away looking up at loki, and he looked down at you. His hair had grown out but he was still the greasy black haired god of mischief you loved. You stroked his hair. you smirked and laughed a little. Still perfection.

you looked into his beautiful blue eyes. “Like the ocean” you said holding his face with your hands. He smirked “forgiven?” he asked. You grumble “fuck you” you say, then lean forward. your eyes flutter close,and you rubbed your nose across his.

Your lips met it was slow,kind,soft. It was just two people in love. you wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him closer. Loki's hands go under your thigh pushing you to jump. you wrap your legs around his waist. he walks to your room. he gently starts trailing his kiss along your jaw. your head moves back to give him more room.

His lips feel soft and nice on you jaw. he gently lays you on the bed crawling on top. he nippled on your neck then licked the spot. “such an angel” he said pulling away. He looked down at you, dilated pupils small marking on your neck your breathing was heavy and fast.

He lent back down pushing your shirt up he kissed up to your chest. He pushed your shirt up gently and you took it off tossing it elsewhere. “perfection” he said kissing your chest. he took a nipple into his mouth sucking and biting. you groan your hips lifting up. loki pulled away squeezing,

“so soft” he said kissing down the valley. You pulled loki up and he looked down at you. you pushed his shirt off still staring at him. “my god” you said while stroking his chest “my beautiful god” you said. he smiled down at you.

His beautiful eyes shone in the moonlight the peeked through the window. His beautiful smile as he looked down at you full of love. His dark waves falling over his shoulder.

He leaned down and kissed you slow and deep. His hands were on your hips as he grinded cock into you. You whimpered against his lip. “my queen” he said trailing his kisses down the valley of your chest, down your stomach he licked your navel. His lips stopped at your shorts he slowly took them off throwing them elsewhere. he kissed your ankle trailing up. He nibbled your thighs and licked it, sucked it. his hands pushed your thighs apart looking at your wetness soaking through your underwear.

“loki” you said softly. he looked up at you “i love you” you said with a smile. He moved you to you. you took your face in his hands. he kissed your nose, you cheeks, your jaw, then your lips “i love you too” he said before leaning back to your underwear. he took it between his teeth dragging it down. he threw it somewhere.

He marked your thighs kissing soft and slow. “my girl” he said as he came back up to you. He kissed you deeply it was calm. “im addicted to your lip” he said kissing you again. You felt his fingers slide through landing on your clit. you moan into his mouth and he smiles on your lips.

His fingers rub your clit putting pressure. “there we go angel girl” he said inserting his finger into you. you moaned loudly your hips rocking forward. his thumb landed back on your clit. you withered underneath his touch. He pumped his fingers in and out of you. you move your hips meeting his rhythm. He watched as your eyes shut, you head tilted back. His lips met the front of your neck his thumb rubbing and flicking your clit. his fingers move in a ‘come here’ motion hitting your g spot. “loki loki baby there” you say lifting your hips off the bed.

Loki massaged the spot keeping his rhythm bending his fingers every time his finger were all the way in you. he kissed your neck biting and marking. you whimper and feel your walls tighten. Loki lifted his head watching you moan and whimper as your orgasm hit you. The way your legs squeeze around him and shake. He loved to cause you pleasure.

He kept his fingers moving through your orgasm. Once you calmed he pulled his fingers out licking them. you sat up unbuttoning his pants. he kicked them off and kissed pecked your lips. he pulled off his underwear his cock sprung free. you kissed up his thighs biting and leaving feather kisses.

you kiss up his chest and bite his chest. loki looks down at you and smiles “having fun there beautiful?” he ask. you look up and smirk “not yet dear” you say falling back to your sitting position. You grab the base of his cock licking from the tip to the base tracing over the veins. Loki's head tossed back as he groaned.

“now i am” you said. taking the tip of it in your mouth. you bob your head up and down. loki grabs the back of your hair. He looked down seeing spit and precum falling on your chin. Your hair a mess in his fist. You looked so beautiful with his cock in your mouth. your tongue keeps tracing over the veins as you bob. “my queen id love to keep this up but i cant” he said his hips starting to thrust into your mouth. you remove your mouth, a string of saliva.

you smile up at him and loki leans down kissing you “you taste amazing my god” you say putting your hands on his cheeks. he slowly lays you back down and kisses you. he sat back up on his knees.

his hair was a wavy mess, eyes sparkling blue with dilated pupils, his chest glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He was beautiful. You love him, he's your god. your god.

He leans down kissing you. he lines his spit covered dick and pushes in while looking at you. He watches as you close your eyes and mouth opens but no noise comes out. his kisses your bottom lip. he moves pulling out and pushing in. Its slow and calm. you open your eyes looking up at him. you hold his face and smile. “You are perfect” you say giving him a small kiss. he smiles at you and puts his head on your shoulder.

He lightly pecks your shoulder and collarbone. “my girl” he says nuzzling his head in and speeding up his thrust. your arms wrap around his shoulders holding him close. His fingers lands on your clit as he thrust. Your walls tighten and you hold him close. He thrust harder in you holding your hips.

he lifts his head watching as you cum on his dick. your mouth opens in an O shape as you tilt your head backwards. He felt your walls tighten and just loved seeing you come undone.

He thrust harder he bends your legs up to your chest wrapping his arms under your knees. He pushes faster. you feel his rhythm break and his head falls to your chest. He buries himself inside of you as you feel spurts of cum inside of you.

Loki starts to pull out before you wrap your legs around him. “stay” you say. He knows that has many meanings but nonetheless he smiles and lays down most his weight was on the bed only his chest was on your chest and torso was on your pelvis.

“Loki i love you a lot and im pissed as hell at you but just...promise to never leave me again?” you said stroking through his hair. “I promise” loki said snuggling closer to you. he closed his eyes and traced your stomach. “I will stay with you till the day we die” he said. you smiled and continued to play with his hair as he slowly fell asleep. “My god” you said before falling asleep yourself.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson #loki smut #loki x reader smut #mcu smut #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel

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excujeemi · 3 years

Text

D R U N K [ Ray X Reader ]

Age: around 18 Genre: Fluff Warnings: UHhh, adult jokes (??) and mentions of alcohol

Simple, you know, you were graduating high school and moving on to college of course there'd be parties. And there's only three words to describe this party you're in? Wild as fuck. Man, some were playing beer pong, some were making out, it was just so chaotic you don't even remember as to why you were here in the first place... Oh yeah, your parents forced you to get some human interaction every once in a while.

You thought this party would be very shit and unenjoyable but look at you now, everyone around you was cheering you on to chug , c h u g , c h u g . And chug you did.

You were already dizzy but you know this is that moment, that sweet moment of youth (??) perhaps and there's the adrenaline and the feeling that you're on top of the world, it's like you can just do anything you want for example, peeing in your annoying neighbor's backyard but let's not take that idea personally-

You were just about to open another bottle of alcohol but then someone stopped you, a hand gripped on your wrist which surprised you, you looked up to see whose hand it was and saw Ray frowning. That's typical, when is he not frowning anyway.

Well, Ray is one of your closest friends, your parents are also both close to each other so it just makes sense. And Ray being the most trusted person of your mother, she asked him if he could pick you up since it was getting kinda late. You know if they were just gonna end up worrying about you then why even force you to get some of that, "human interaction", they're just exaggerating.

"Oh, hey Ray my beloved , what're you doing here?" You smugly asked as he helped you stand up but your feet kept on tripping and so you slipped, with your hand on Ray's shoulder causing him to fall on top of you while the people surrounding you both were teasing you, you felt Ray's hot breath hitting your neck while his large hands were supporting your back to protect you from directly falling. The close space between the both of you caused Ray's face to turn into a tomato, red flushed cheeks, wide eyes, he lowkey wished you both could stay like that for more time. "You idiot, get up already its almost 4am." He says as he quickly got up and tried to take your heavy ass up. "wAiT, mY bAg and mY phOne, And mY StufF are-" "Shh, shh. I got them all now shut it." He says as he shows you your bag from his other hand, he opened the door with his foot and kicked it close. "Hey Ray, aren't you getting to close, haah~?" You seductively whispered in his ear making him blush for the second time. He rolled his eyes, 'Patience, you must stay calm.' He thinks to himself. "Haah~?" Okay, he decided that was it. "Why don't you walk by yourself then, the parking lot is still quite far from where we are, walk by yourself good luck tripping over everything." He lets go of you while you had trouble tryna regain your posture. "I can walk, don't-d-don't you underestimate the power of this wild creature." You pointed to yourself while making a karate pose.

Ray was annoyed, his eye was twitching and he really did want to abandon you there. "Okay, I'll lead the way then." After a few seconds, everything was going well, he takes a few glances back at you to see how you're doing because apparently if you trip and die he'd be blamed by your parents. Then he saw you weren't by his side, well obviously not because you kept on slowing down but you really were out of his sight and this worried him by a lot. 'If only Emma and Norman were here to back me up with this dumbass' But for real, he was worried, it had only been a few seconds--what if someone took you or something. He ran a few steps back and looked everywhere and there you fucking were, talking to a celebrity cardboard cutout. "Oh my fucking gosh, this dimwit. Y/n!" He sighs as he massaged his temples. He ran to you and pulled you by your arm. "Ugh, stOp, I'm still flirting with this hot man." You whined as you tried to wriggle your arm out of Ray's hand. He didn't know whether to leave you alone or laugh at you there. "You blockhead, that's...that's a Justin Bieber cardboard cut out for fuck's sake..." Ray was about to explode at this point, you were making him want to combust. "Please, dOn't take me way, I have no flirt with!" "I'll flirt with you all you want just--let's go already this is so embarrassing!" He said to improvise but your drunk self actually believed that he'd flirt with you. "Really?" You asked and he just nods while closing his eyes, annoyed. "YaaaY~, Ray my beloved will flirt with me, I'm the happiest person in the worlll ever." To be honest, Ray would love to hear those words while you're not drunk but he can't help but blush again remembering what Norman used to say, "Drunk people always say what they truly think." He shook his head and as soon as you arrived at the parking lot, he pushed you gently into the backseat. Thankfully, you spent that whole time without saying anything, you were literally just staring at the car's ceiling like a dead person which was creepy. He arrived at your house and it seemed that everyone was asleep so he had to use the spare keys he has. He then opened the door, carrying you bridal style and the hallways were quite narrow so he felt sorry whenever your head hit some walls or table. 💀 lmfao. He carefully placed you on your bed, while you were almost sound asleep. Boy, times like this remind him of deep in love he is with you. You know maybe he should just confess of something.

He smiled and tucked in some hair behind you ear. Very wholesome situation, well until you tugged his arm for him to come closer so he thought you had something to say, when he finally got close you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly which shocked him by a lot. It was comfortable to be in your arms, if only he could stay there a bit more longer. :'). "H-Hey what are you trying to do? Let go of me, Y/n." He softly whispered, his hot breath hitting you once again but a bit more closer which caused you to hug him tighter. "Dream on." And since you really wouldn't let go of him, and he didn't have enough will to force himself out of your hold, he decided to just stay there. It was 4am and your warmth was more than enough to make him sleepy. Next morning: You woke up with someone in your arms, it was very comfortable. 'Oh it's just Ray..wait what--RAY??' "HOLY SHIT RAY! WAKE UP! WAKE-" His hand covered your mouth as his half-asleep eyes stared at you. "What are you so loud in the morning for?" Man, his morning voice could kill. Shaking your head quickly to shoo away the simp thoughts, you built up the courage to ask him this one cliche question. "Di-Did we perhaps, you know? Do the thing?" Of course Ray was not dumb but he can be an ass. Smirking, he asks with an innocent tone, "What do you mean by thing ?" "Oh my--you know what I mean! Stop acting dumb-" "Oh you mean sex?" He stared at you for a while, keeping that smirk of his on his face while seeing you so flustered and red. "Why do you have to be so blunt, this is why I hate you.." You said as you buried your face into one of your pillows. "Chill, woman. We didn't do that. You did do something dumb last night though." He chuckles as he removes the pillow away from your red face. "Please kill me--what is it?" "Well you just flirted with a Justin Bieber Cutout, nothing new." "I really did that?" You cried as you started mentally smashing your head on a rock. "Yes, yes you did." As soon was those words of confirmation came out of his mouth, you started getting flashbacks again, "Dude, I'll never be drunk again." "That's a good idea. But if you never get drunk again you might never hug me again the way you did last night." 'The way I did last night?...' What did he even mean by that... "What do you mean?" "Want a demonstration?" ..... THE END lol bye this was so bad ahvdusvud - Follow me on wattpad - @excujeemi Join my discord server !! https://discord.gg/wXSuKBXMXt

#ray x reader #rayxreader #tpn #tpn ray #ynn #ynn ray #fanfic #x reader #anime x y/n #anime x reader

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waywardmoeyy · 3 years

Text

4am Food Coma

Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1,784

Warnings: insomnia, just some familial fluff.

A/N: This is as much of a feel-good story as I can write late at night. Haha. I hope you all like it!

My Master List

You sighed as you stared at the drab bunker ceiling. Your body was practically aching from exhaustion, but you mind was racing. Random, deep-rooted memories flashed through you, some causing your heart to pound with regret. This lifestyle had really been taking a toll on you lately, and you knew it was only going to get worse.

You pulled the scratchy, plaid blanket up to your chin and sighed. You could go back to your room, but Dean was snoring to heavily on the other side of the wall. You typically fell asleep before him, but tonight, you just couldn’t get your mind to shut off.

Grabbing your phone beside you, you unlocked the screen and checked the time. 3:34am.

“Well, shit,” you muttered to yourself with another sigh. There was no way you were going to get any sleep at this point. You had promised Sam that, in the morning, you would go with him to some outdoor clothing store a few towns over, and he was always up at the ass crack of dawn. So, that meant you probably only had an hour or so of time to get any sort of shut eye.

The tip-tap of heavy feet approached you from behind the couch. You turned toward the noise, sitting up a little to peer over the back of the couch. In the scarce light, you found your oldest brother approaching you.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing up, sweetheart?” Dean asked, shooting you a concerned look. You sighed and leaned back onto your makeshift pillow.

“My mind has decided that now is a great time to replay every horrible thing that’s happened in every hunt I can remember. It’s making me nuts. You know me, I’m the one who is always saying that what’s in the past can’t be changed, just let it go. I’m not usually one to dwell, but here I am.” You watched Dean as he plopped down on the edge of the couch, lightly leaning against your feet.

“Sounds like a helluva nightmare, Y/N. Anything I can do to help?” That was a great question, and usually the one you were asking your brothers. You pursed your lips, then gently shook your head.

“I dunno. I think I just need some sort of distraction. I’ve tried watching TV, but my mind just drifts off into another world.” You rolled your eyes. “And I promised Sam I’d go to that store he loves. He wants to leave early. I’m going to be a zombie.”

Dean chuckled as he watched you, probably laughing at the dark rings that were undoubtedly plaguing your eyes. He patted your ankles and smiled.

“I have an idea. Grab a sweatshirt and meet me at the car.” You furrowed your brow as you watched him launch to his feet.

“Wha-wait. What? No. I’m not going out like this. Dean, it’s almost four in the morning! Where are we going?” You slid out from under your blanket. You were clad in baggy pajama pants covered in cat silhouettes, and a tank top that absolutely did not match. Not to mention the quarter sized hole under your right armpit.

“Relax, Bitz, no one’s going to care where were going. Just grab a sweatshirt and some shoes. You have five minutes.” You rolled your eyes at your big brother. He was always up to some sort of shenanigans. But, the two of you were a lot alike, so you usually trusted his crazy schemes.

“Fine, but I’m not going to say I’m excited until I know where we’re going.”

“Calm down, Bitz. You’ll like it.” Bitz, short for Itsy Bitsy, was the nickname Dean gave you when you were too young to talk. Since you were the youngest, and quite obviously the smallest, he thought it was funny. But over three decades later, he still called you by that nickname more than he ever used your real one.

One more unsure sigh left your lungs before you turned towards your room, in search of a jacket.

“I remember there was a place just like this in Omaha. We always stopped when we drove through. I totally forgot this place was here.” You peered down at the menu of the dodgy diner. Dean sat across from you, studying the same menu.

The two of you sat in the corner of the small eatery, only joined by an older man at the bar, obviously a trucker, and a homeless man drifting off on the other side of the building, still half-clutching a cup of coffee.

Dean smiled and nodded, peering up from his menu. “Yeah, it hasn’t changed a bit. It’s like they are all exactly the same. Still better than Biggerson’s, though.” You laughed.

“Yeah, definitely. Their milkshakes are the best! I’m hoping they still are.”

Dean grinned. “Well, let’s find out. I’m not going to eat a big meal then go back to sleep. But, I’ll never deny an Oreo milkshake.” Dean slammed his menu shut and nodded. “What’s your poison? No, wait, lemme guess. Mint chocolate chip?”

Your eyes lit up. You hadn’t had a mint chocolate chip milkshake in years. Most places in the middle of nowhere didn’t have that flavor. Vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, you cold almost hear a waiter say in their ‘I don’t want to freaking be here’ tone. But this small chain in the center of the country had them, and they were heavenly.

“It’s like you know me or something!” you teased him, before closing your own menu.

Dean chuckled as he eyed the server as they approached your table. “It’s like we’re related.” He winked, before turning to the exhausted young man. He couldn’t have been older that twenty.

“What can I get you?” he droned, his eyes half open. You glanced over at your brother, then back to the young man.

“A mint chocolate chip milkshake please,” you beamed. You smiled, realizing that you were already starting to feel better. You watched as Dean ordered, feeling like you didn’t have a care in the world for the first time in a while.

You all had been hunting for months without any sort of real break. No wonder your mind was on the verge of exploding. You definitely needed to have more breaks and distractions to counterbalance the violent, crazy crap you dealt with day in and day out. But, your brothers were work horses, so that always proved a little difficult.

“Hey, do you think drinking a giant, sugary milkshake is going to be the solution to get me to sleep?” you realized, leaning back in your heavily cracked booth.

Dean shrugged. “Sugar actually helps in a weird way. You eat or drink a bunch of it, fill yourself with sugar, then crash and sleep. Or, the shear amount of food will put you in some type of food-induced coma.” You nodded slowly. It did make sense, weirdly enough.

“Do you think that’s the healthiest thing to do?”

“No, Bitz. But it doesn’t hurt every once in a while. It’s healthier than pulling an all-nighter, then running all around town the next day.” That was true. Plus, there was no way you were going to say no to sugar, whether it was just before sunrise, or sunset. You hadn’t hopped onto Sam’s kale salad bandwagon quite yet.

Within minutes, the server returned with your glorious milkshakes, and a full refill container. The moment your treat was placed down in front of you, you smiled up at your brother in thanks.

The next twenty minutes were quiet, other than the ravenous slurps that came from your straws. Dean finished a few minutes before you, instantly leaning back in his seat.

“Holy shit, that hit the spot.” He smiled as he closed his eyes, instantly in a food coma. You giggled.

“How you didn’t get a single brain freeze baffles me,” you teased, scooting your cup a little closer. A thin line of red light beamed along the horizon, reminding you that you had basically pulled an all-nighter. But, you didn’t care nearly as much as you did before. A sense of peace had enveloped you, or maybe it was the beginning of your own food coma. Either way, you felt a heck of a lot better.

“Thanks, Dean,” you whispered, offering a frozen smile. Dean returned the gesture and nodded.

“Hey, it worked when we were kids. I was sure it was going to work now.” You furrowed your brow.

“What?”

“Yeah, when we came to one of these as kids, Dad would let us order milkshakes. I know you remember. But, what you probably don’t remember is that once you got back in the car, you were out like a light. I don’t even know if the sugar ever got a chance to get to you. I think it was just the comfort food or somethin’.” Dean laughed.

Now that you thought of it, you didn’t really remember the ride afterwards. You just remember waking up just after sunrise, either in the car or arriving home. And, well, that would explain why.

You closed your eyes for a minute, feeling the intense fullness in your stomach. Maybe you were skipping the sugar high yet again, and satiety was leading you straight to real exhaustion.

“Wow, you’re a lightweight,” Dean poked as he lifted from his seat, tossing some money onto the table. You huffed out a chuckle, a little too tired to come up with a witty comeback. “C’mon kid, let’s get you home. You’re going to need some sleep if Sam is going to drag you all over hell tomorrow—uh, today.”

You nodded as you slowly slid out from behind the table. Your brother was already five steps ahead of you, stomping his way towards the door. You slowly followed behind, smiling as you watched him toss a five-dollar bill onto the sleeping homeless man’s table. Then, he opened the door, and waited for you to exit with him.

The moment you settled into your seat, you leaned your head back, resting your head on the top of the back rest. Your eyes were heavy, and your body was practically deadweight. Dean peered over at you as the engine roared to life. He patted your shoulder before putting the car in gear and heading for home.

A long, shuddered sigh left you as you settled into your seat. It was going to be a good twenty minutes or so before you were home. But, your eyes weren’t going to stay open for that long. So, you closed them as you yawned. Within moments, sleep slowly enveloped you, and you weren’t going to fight.

If you would like to be tagged in my works, please send me an ask! <3

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dabisburntsack · 4 years

Text

Pay attention to me

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing(s): Shigarki Tomura x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Restless from your lack of attention to him in quarantine, Shigaraki takes matters into his own hands.

Wordcount: 2162

This is apart of a quarantine fluff collab done with the crackhead sanctuary discord server! Can’t wait to see how everyone’s fics turned out! This was fun to do I hope you all enjoy ٩( ᐛ )و

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Shigaraki was secretly enthusiastic after a mass pandemic had broken out in Japan, usually the two of you would not be able to see much of each other due to the danger of being caught with your profession as a pro hero and his as an extremely wanted villain. Now you had no choice other than to be wrapped in each other's embrace as chaos roamed outside the solid walls of your modern apartment. No one was there to judge you guys being together and the usual paparazzi outside of your residence had been resolved as people were not stepping foot outside.

However, what he didn’t expect was for the hero commision to still call you forward as an essential worker. Villains it seemed were still up to no good, even though Shigaraki had told the rest of the league to stay put and inside; lesser known villains had decided to make their own names known in the country's vulnerable state. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the times you were home you had steadily grown yourself attached to the retro nintendo switch gaming console. What the fuck was so good about animal crossing anyway? Did you enjoy spending time with that rat Tom Nook instead of him?!

Shigaraki was used to him being the gamer between the two of you, he enjoyed it as you pleaded for him to get off whatever device he was on at the time by smothering him with kisses till he gave into you. Sometimes he would even do so on purpose to get affection from you. Being on the other end of it though, was something he quickly learned he did not enjoy. Not being one to initiate intimate gestures in the relationship, he just watched you hoping you would notice him sulking and give in to him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sunday morning. No hero duties, just you and him, sleeping in till noon; but as his hand caught the coldness coming from your side of the bed, Shigaraki buried his head into his pillow and groaned. He could hear your padded footsteps going downstairs. Rolling over he yawned into his hand before checking the time, 8:45am. Why were you awake at 8:45am. Why was he awake at 8:45am on a Sunday morning.

Throwing off the sheets he winced as his feet hit the cold wooden floor of your shared bedroom, he was going to have to drag you back to your cocoon pile himself. Muttering, he walked his way downstairs before peaking into the living room to see you huddled on the

couch, switch in hand. Of course you were up so early just to go on that damn game.

“Player two, what the fuck are you doing awake right now”

Your head snapped up like a deer caught in headlights as you saw your boyfriend's tired face leaning beside the door frame. Sheepishly rubbing at your neck you pouted up at him, “But Daisy Mae is selling turnips”

“Daisy who is doing what???”

“Daisy mae” You repeated bringing your switch up so he could look at what you were referring to “look at her she's so adorable, I have to buy from her I can’t make her sad by not buying”

Shigaraki looked down to your screen and blanked. There on screen was an orange little pig with a hat full of turnips, and standing by its side smiling brightly was your avatar. You got out of bed for a pig??? A pig selling turnips from its head...and was that a snot drop hanging from its snout?!!

He looked back up at you and if emojis existed in real life, he swore you would be the pleading eyes one with the face you were pulling at him. Ok, but who gave you the right to be so fucking adorable, he was meant to be mad at you for having woken him up so early!! Over a PIG!!!

“And why do you have to ‘buy turnips from daisy mae’ so early in the morning, you can do it later on”

“You can only buy before noon” You pleaded at him “Come on who could resist look how cute she is”

“I can be cute” Shigaraki huffed under his breath “Come back to bed, I’m tired and cold”

“Ok ok after this I will, you go warm it back up for me” You had already started slotting your switch in the port that hooked it up to the TV.

Shigaraki puffed out a breath but obliged and made his way back upstairs, waiting upon your arrival. Sliding back between the covers he peered at the doorway to your bedroom patiently to see when you would come back, however something about the warmth of the sheets and the way the mattress moulded perfectly into his back pulled him back into slumber in an instant however much he tried to fight it.

When he awoke again it was 11:15 and he was content to see you rolled up on his chest. He breathed out slowly, tucking a hair strand behind your ear, before kissing the top of your head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Waking and sleeping at ridiculous times had seemed to turn into the norm for you after that however, as he once again caught you out of bed at 3am this time, when he awoke from feeling the coldness of your body not pressed up against his. He blearily rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb before seeing a brief light flickering from downstairs through the cracks of your bedroom door. He threw his head back and protested, muttering under his breath on how much of a hassle you were, before pulling off the covers and making his way downstairs. Blinking at going into the light he found you once again curled up on the sofa, controller in hand and staring avidly at the TV screen.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” You replied not taking your eyes off the screen.

“What are you doing awake?”

Well at least you had the dignity of alighting a blush that made its way up your neck and across your cheeks. You meekly turned your gaze to him ready to spring up your puppy eyes but he looked back at you with a deadpan expression. Still, you tried your luck by pouting at him and blinking your eyes in mock innocence.

“But shiggy there’s a meteor shower today and I had to watch it”

“It's a game, can't you do it in the morning?” Shigaraki sighed, being once more brought to weakness by your gaze. He couldn’t resist you, not when you were looking at him like that paired in an oversized t-shirt with a blanket draped over your head. HIS oversized t-shirt might he add.

“I have to do it nowww, the stars only come between 7pm and 4am”

Honestly he didn’t know how to respond, you really stayed up to watch a pixelated star fall from the sky. Is this how bad he was? He shook his head but couldn’t help at the slight smile that tugged at his lips. Making his way over to you he took off your blanket before wrapping it round the both of you.

“Lets see this damn star that has you awake all night then”

You beamed at him. He melted.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

With the days going by of you ignoring him for your switch, Shigaraki thought doing the same to you would be a good idea. But as it went on he couldn’t bring himself to carry on, he wanted your attention, and he had just thought of a way to achieve his goals.

Basing his plan on the night a few weeks ago when you had stayed up for that meteor shower, he dragged out an assortment of blankets to the old trampoline you had in your garden. Since that night he had decided if you so badly wanted to stay up for a stupid capatilist racoon, you could do so with him too and experience the real thing. He had gone ahead and checked the weather for when clear skies would take place for you guys to stargaze in your back garden, along with a nice dinner beforehand. He had already started cooking back when quarantine had begun trying to ease the load off you as you worked on your hero duties, and although not the best, his food was the least bit savagable now. (Although this did include multiple temper tantrums on his behalf and having to call Kurogiri to calm himself down.)

Coming back inside he checked on the curry he had left to simmer only to find it was burning. FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, ten minutes away he looked up in exasperation at the mess in front of him, this wasn’t going well. The curry was burnt, the salad was old and the flowers he got you had disintegrated when he tried to move them into a vase as he wasn’t wearing his gloves earlier on. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Kurogiri to teleport some decent food his way…

As the door chimed from your arrival he hurriedly put down the plates and scratched at his neck, he didn’t usually do huge gestures in the relationship between you guys, that was more your thing. He showed his love in small ways, he liked touching you, having at least one body part pressed against you eased his nerves. Whether it be your thighs brushing against each other as you sat next to each other or feeling the warmth of your hand against his leathered one it never failed to put his mind at ease. This was long overdue, he wanted to show you how much he cared, if things would just go his fucking way the once.

“I’m home!” You called out, he knew your routine by now, you would go hop in the shower as to decontaminate yourself from any germs and then come eat with him before going off to spend hours on your switch. Well not tonight, you were his for tonight.

“Welcome home, brat”

His attention turned back to the utter chaos in front of him and he brought his forefinger and thumb up to massage the bridge of his nose. Picking up his phone with all fingers but his pinky he dialled Kurogiri’s number but stopped in his tracks as he heard a gasp in the room.

“Shiggy?”

His ears felt hot as he turned to face you, you were looking at the small dining table set up in the kitchen and looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Shit.

His cooking really was so bad he had made you cry fuck this wasn-

“Shiggy you did this for me?”

...

“Well who else would I do it for”

The air was knocked out of his lungs as you flung yourself into his arms, he was still fearful whenever you made sudden movements on him as of his quirk but he relaxed as he noticed the leather adoring his hands was there.

“I had a bad day at work today, I missed you so much all day”

Shigarakis arms wrapped back around you as he buried his face into your hair. “I missed my player two aswell”

Staying in each other's embrace, Shigaraki hummed in content. “I burnt the curry by the way”

“It's the thought that counts, I’m sure it isn’t so bad”

It was bad. Shigaraki seemed to have missed out a lot of steps and he ended up calling Kurogiri after all, after eating and showering together (you had jumped straight into Shigarakis arms and needed to be clean from your day of work) Shigaraki grabbed your hand and tugged you outside.

“I thought we could stargaze together…” Shigaraki muttered out his ears turning red yet again. “Like you do with bob rook”

…

“Tom nook?” You laughed

“Yes the dumb racoon boy”

“Are you jealous of said dumb racoon boy?” You asked, amused.

“No” He replied too quickly, and was silent for a while before speaking up “You’ve been playing on that game a lot recently though”

“Finally got a taste of your own Medicine, have you?”

“I’m not as bad as you”

“I beg to differ”

He flicked the top of your forehead as you giggled and laid back in the nest he had built on your trampoline, before staring up at the sky. It really was a beautiful night to stargaze, the weather was pleasant too, with the warm summer air and no breeze. Shigaraki laid down next to you, laced his fingers with yours and brought them up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“I love you”

“More than Tom Nook?”

Pretending to think about it you hummed. “Mmmm yes I think so”

“You think so?”

“Of course I love you more than Tom Nook dummy”

Shigaraki was quiet for a while before softly muttering out “I love you too”

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bakusdumptruck · 3 years

Text

Bakusquad Crack Post

Sup bitches 🤩how’s your day been? hope its been good! Anywayyy i was listening to a “Rolling joints with Sero Hanta” playlist and this popped up in my mind sooo here’s a little Bakusquad scenario 😏

Pairing: aged up Bakusquad x GN Y/n

Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries

Summary: A smoke session with the babes turned into a chaotic mess

Ights sluts lets get into it 😈

Sero Hanta is the stoner of the group. Period.

He taught everyone how to roll up just incase he was too high to function and wanted to smoke more

One night he texted the gc asking if everyone wanted to have a smoke sesh before they had to study for exams

You all agreed and went over to his dorm together

All except Bakugou.

He called all of you “idiots” and “dumbasses” for getting faded before studying, but all Sero had to say for him to come was

“Ight bakubro, if you can’t handle it you could’ve said that instead of making excuses 🤷🏻‍♂️”

Bakugou showed up within 5 minutes.

Once everyone was together, tape boy had everything set up

There were 4 joints lined up, hella snacks, drinks, video games, and movies

He even had the LED a n d Galaxy lights on

Lordy it was gonna be a long ass night

NOW ON TO THE FIRST ROTATION 🤩

You know how I said Sero is the stoner? yup uhuh he got the MF GAS.

The rotation was Bakugou, Kiri, You, Mina, Denki, then Sero

You all have a high tolerance so after you saw Bakugou coughing up a fucking lung, yall knew you were in trouble

Everyone coughed... except Sero. He just busted a lung laughing💀

So the joint is finished and you’re all feeling fuzzy

yes you’re high, BUT its not enough to get you guys staring at the wall thinking about space and aliens

Just high enough where time is slowed down and your body feels light

Denki randomly shouted to play video games and everyone agreed

Guess what you’re playing 👀

Ju-on. The fucking grudge game.

Why did Denki choose this game? oh he just wanted to see if it’d be a scarier experience if you’re all faded

It was 😃

Kiri volunteered to play the first stage to show off his Manliness 😤

So there he goes walking into the abandoned building

yall know how you can use another wii remote to trigger jumpscares?

yeahhhh Kiri didn’t know about it... and Bakugou was in charge of that

Everyone was chillin, lowkey feeling at edge to prepare themselves for anything about to pop up

Here comes the scene where he opens the door and scary bitch is on the other side waiting to grab him

K: “Uhhhh this doesn’t feel right... am I supposed to go this way?

B: “No shit dumbass, its telling you go that way isn’t it? What are you scared or something 😏 I thought you were too manly for this game”

K: “I-I’m not scared... just making s-sure.”

M: “Hehe you’re stuttering kiri”

K: “...I’m just cold��

Right before he grabbed the door handle (I kinda forgot how the game went oops 😅) bakubitch tiggered a jumpscare

K: “Okay here I g- what the fuck 😃”

It didn’t work.

K: “Oh that wasn’t too bad! The games gonna have to try harder if it wants to scare m- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Scary bitch popped up outta no where and grabbed him

S: “DUDE FUCKING RUN AWAY”

Y/N: “KIRI THE BITCH IS RIGHT THERE WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING”

K: “FUCK- CAN’T YOU SEE IM TRYING”

B: “BITCH SHAKE THE CONTROLLER. YOU HAVE TO SHAKE THE CONTROLLER”

K: “AHSJHS WHY ISN’T SHE LETTING GO”

D: “I-IT”S TELLING YOU HOW TO SHAKE IT. GO LEFT, NO NOW RI-”

Kiri accidentally punched Denki in the face 🙃

All: “...whAT THE FUCK AHAHAHSHAH”

yeahhh so thats how the game ended 😭

Denki was laying on the floor staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell just happened and why everyone was laughing at him

D: *in his head* “I just got punched square in the face 😃 and they’re laughing at me 😃 This is fine. 😃”

K: “B-bro are you okay 😭 iM sorry AHAsh its- its just everyone was screaming and AhahhAHAHA IM SORRY 😭”

Sero let him start the second rotation as an apology for laughing instead of checking up on him

Honestly yall don’t know if you can go on to the third

Everyone was hella faded at this point

Eyes red, dry mouths, and hungry stomachs

Mina ordered TacoBell knowing everyone was gonna want to eat more than the snacks and you all sat on the floor munching away

You all started talking about stupid stuff:

S: “So like... what happens when we get scared half to death twice”

M: “👁👄👁”

B: “👁👄👁”

D: “👁👄👁”

Y: “👁👄👁”

K: “👁👄👁”

D: “I’ve been scared half to death multiple times... im fucking immortal.”

After a few more high conversations Mina suggests to make tiktoks

Have yall seen the tiktok where Mina and Y/n do the trend where they wink at the camera and all the boys are watching and Baku comes up to kiss Y/n?

yup you do that BUT

When Bakugou grabbed your cheeks and went in for the kiss he missed and fell flat on his face 💀

*Cue everyone falling on their asses crying*

Best believe the tiktok went viral 🤩

After the third joint yall decided that the room was too suffocating and went out for a walk

It didn’t seem like a bad idea... until you all got outside

Denki and Sero were singing “Milkshake” at the top of their lungs while wall twerking on the trees

Kiri and Bakugo were racing to see who’s the fastest but kept tripping over their own feet

You and Mina were recording everything those dumbasses were doing.

All of a sudden yall found yourselves in a clear area a bit far from the dorms

Bakugou laid in the grass staring up at the stars and you all joined getting into a little cuddle pile

At this point the effects of the joints hit at once and everyone was out of their heads

They felt like their spirits were floating out of their bodies

*BOOM*

M: “...did you guys hear that”

All: “yes”

M: “should we go check it out?”

B: “Hell yeah. What if it’s a villain? I bet I can beat their ass in less than a second”

Y: “First, thats literally impossible. Second, We can barely fucking move. How do you expect us to fight a villain 🙂”

A Nomu popped up in front of you

D: “Uhhh aye Bakubro... you think you can beat his ass in less than a second?”

B: “FUCK YEAH WATCH THIS YOU FUCKING EXTRAS.”

...

HE FUCKING MISSED Nomu: “ERRHSJAKFjhuSGHD”

Y/n: *shoots up on their feet then falls over immediately* “DAMNIT I CAN’T STAND UP STRAIGHT WHAT DO WE DO”

Everyone started to use their quirks

Sero shot tape to the nomu

Denki sent 1 millions volts

Mina just kept shooting acid out

Kiri hardened up and threw punches like his life depend on it

Bakugou was screaming “die” and kept exploding shit

and You were also using your quirk to the best of your ability

K: *heavy breathing* “guys... i think we got it”

B: “Ofc we did... we literally went bat shit crazy on it”

When the smoke cleared it was still standing in front of you guys... unharmed...

AND IT MULTIPLIED

K: “😶RUN AWAY”

you all started running back to the dorms

well, tried running back to the dorms

Everyone was bumping into each other and tripping

S: “WE’RE GONNA DIE”

Y/n: “WE’RE NOT GONNA DIE JUST KEEP RUNNING... FUCK THEY’RE GETTING CLOSER

Denki ended up facetiming Aizawa in hopes that he would help

A: “Denki, its 4am what do you w-”

D: “SENSEIIII NOMUS ARE CHASING US. SEND HELP.

A: “Why are you guys out of the dorms? aND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME USE YOUR QUIRKS. YOU HAVE YOUR HEROS LICENSE FOR A REASoN”

D: “WE TRIED. WE MISSED AND IT MULTIPLIED. WE’RE ALSO HIGH AS FUCK BUT WE’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT”

A: “... did you say you were high?”

D: “IRRELEVANT. SENSEI WE’RE GONNA DI-”

The nomu caught him.

A: “Denki... Kaminari... hello?... *sigh* you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

You all ended up getting knocked out by the nomus and taken to the League of Villains hideout

B: “...Never thought i’d be here again”

S: “ I still have the last joint in my pocket... ya’ll wanna smoke?”

Dabi and Shiggy stared at him like he was crazy but agreed anyway 🤪who’s gonna pass up a free joint? not them.

So everyone got high again and chilled until the Pro Hero’s saved your asses :)

Oh and also don’t think Aizawa let you guys off the hook.

You all got house arrest and extra BRUTAL lessons for the next 2 months

The End :)

Yeahhh idk what this was but I hope you all enjoyed it!! I really wanted to write something angsty but as I was writing I couldn’t take myself seriously and ended up making jokes 😭

#BNHA Headcanons #bnha x y/n #bhna x reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #sero x reader #mina x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha #bakusqaud #bakusquad x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Damsels, Chapter Three: Interview

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous Chapters Here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is deserted at 4am, which is exactly why she has to be there so early. She arrives at Skinner’s office with nothing but her car keys and the casual clothing on her back. Agent Wiley, a young woman in her twenties, greets Scully warmly. She’s tall and brunette with an hourglass figure, and Scully has the passing thought that she is exactly Mulder’s type. She wonders if they’ve ever met.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment in Philly where you’ll stay for the duration of the undercover assignment, Agent Scully,” Wiley says in an authoritative though very high pitched voice. “We’ll leave your car in the bureau garage for the duration, but you can give A.D. Skinner your keys for safekeeping.”

Scully hands Skinner her keys and he sets them on top of his desk, rubbing his hands over a weary and sleep-rumpled face.

“I’ll fill you in on the case details on the way. Let’s hit the road, we’ve got a two and a half hour drive ahead of us,” she finishes, slinging her purse over her shoulder and making for the door.

Scully follows her mutely. Just as she reaches the door herself, Skinner speaks.

“Agent Scully?” he asks in a hoarse voice. She turns to face him. “I…I…” He keeps restarting his sentence, but never gets further than that.

Scully finally interjects. “It’s okay, sir. I understand. We all have a job to do.”

He nods at her with a grateful expression, and she follows Agent Wiley out to the parking garage.

The sun is just beginning to brighten the inky sky as they drive out of D.C. Agent Wiley is chatty behind the wheel as Scully leafs through the case file; once they get to Philly, she won’t have the opportunity to see it again. The only trace of Dana Scully in her apartment will be a burner cell phone, which she is to keep off and hidden in an air duct in the wall. She will call Agent Wiley at least every other day, or as needed, to share any updates. She is to turn the phone on only when she’s sure no one else is in the apartment with her. She is expected to get as close as possible to the other dancers at the club, one of whom they believe to be Mila Chamberlain. In the file, there’s a photo of Mila, a young Asian woman with a short blonde pixie cut and penetrating dark brown eyes. There is also her parents’ account of her disappearance shortly after meeting Ricky at a party, and their fears that’s she’s a victim of sex trafficking.

“Your cover is Diane Sellers, recently divorced and needing work,” Agent Wiley explains. “To our understanding, they won’t ask you much about your history, but it’s still good to have a backstory ready. It can be helpful to use real details from your life in regards to things like siblings, parents, and past romantic partners, just because it’s easier to keep straight. We don’t recommend addiction being a part of your backstory, in case that affects Ricky’s willingness to trust you. You should immerse yourself as much as possible with the staff, including spending time with them outside work if you can. You can have them over to your apartment, which is why it’s important that there’s nothing there that isn’t part of Diane’s story. It’s fully furnished with everything from tampons to Rice a Roni, but we’ve also set up a bank account and a debit card in case you need to buy anything. Once you identify Mila, call me. You should try to get as close to her as possible, and ultimately the goal is to confirm that she’s being held against her will. Then we’ll raid the club and get you both out of there. What questions do you have?”

Scully stares out the window at the cars rushing by. The pink sunrise illuminating the clouds on the horizon makes the sky look pinstriped.

“Why weren’t you asked to go undercover, if this is your case? You’re young, you’re very pretty. So I guess my question is why not you?” She recognizes the irritation in her voice, but she can’t help herself.

Agent Wiley glances over at her and back to the road a few times. “I can understand why you’d ask that. And I also realize that I haven’t thanked you for taking this assignment. It was a hard one to staff.”

Scully scoffs and turns to face the other woman. “I wasn’t given a choice, Agent Wiley.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, the reason I couldn’t take this assignment is that I have an ostomy bag, as a result of a pretty severe case of Crohn’s. I doubt anyone wants to see a stripper with a bag of poop strapped to her belly dancing around on stage.”

Scully closes her eyes against the shame that wells in her gut. “I’m sorry, Agent Wiley. That was rude of me to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Agent Scully. Honestly, I’d take my ostomy bag over this assignment any day. I don’t envy you.”

Scully turns back to the window, spinning up the life story of Diane Sellers as they drive on through the early morning light and towards her uncertain future.

Agent Wiley drops her off around the corner from her apartment with nothing but a set of keys and verbal instructions for where she can locate the burner phone. Her interview is today at 2, and the address of the club and interview information are on a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. They bid one another an awkward goodbye, and Scully goes in search of her home for the next several weeks.

The apartment is small, a studio, and fully furnished. She can tell that Agent Wiley herself took care of decorating it; youthful touches like a sequined throw pillow and a magnet on the fridge with “Diane” printed on a tiny license plate give it a dorm-like feel. Many of the items appeared to have been thrifted, which will be important to keeping up her ruse of being a woman in a tight spot financially. She locates the air duct and the burner phone, turning it on to be sure it works before securing it back in its hiding place. She pokes around the various cabinets and cupboards to find all kinds of dried goods and snacks, and is surprised by the 6 pack of beer in the fridge and the bottle of vodka in the freezer. The closet is full of clothing in her size, some of it basic jeans and tees, some of it tube tops and daisy duke shorts that she would never wear. Well, Scully would never wear them, but she suspects Diane would. The slip of paper on the counter reads:

Damsels in Dominance

1634 W York St, Philly

Ricky Dean, 2pm

She makes a face at the name and her stomach turns at the thought that this might be some kind of S&M club. It's just after 9am, so she has quite a bit of time to kill before her interview. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, so instead she takes a thorough inventory of all the cabinets and closets to see if anything important is missing. In the bathroom, she opens the medicine cabinet to find a full Oil of Olay skin care line right next to a box of condoms. What the hell does Agent Wiley think she has planned for this assignment? Her confusion deepens when she pulls open the drawer of the bedside table and is greeted by a book light as well as a small bullet vibrator. Either Agent Wiley went to very great lengths to make sure this apartment would pass the sniff test for anyone who decided to snoop, or….she doesn’t even know what the other possibility is. Adding some paperback novels to her mental shopping list, she slams the drawer shut and flops down on the bed. Mulder is at work by now, and she wonders how long Skinner will be able to keep up the ruse. Knowing Mulder, not all that long.

Mulder arrives at work just past 8, noting that Scully’s car is parked in her typical spot in the garage; she must have needed to stop by before heading to Quantico. He’s a little bit disappointed that she’ll be away for the next few weeks; the basement office is exceedingly boring without her. At the same time, he’s grateful for a bit of space to think.

The tension between them had reached a tipping point but now sits suspended, teetering between coworkers and friends or whatever lay on the other side. He’s made some attempts at pushing things towards the “more than friends” end of the spectrum, but nothing seems to come of it. He kissed her, and while she kissed him back and seemed receptive to it, she hasn’t initiated anything further. The night they played baseball together was fun and flirtatious, but again nothing happened. He’s getting the sense that any move will need to be made by him. Maybe Scully just isn’t the forward type in these situations, or maybe she isn’t confident enough that he’ll reciprocate. This time that she’s working away from the office might be the perfect opportunity to take her out on a real date, knowing that if things get weird they won’t have to face each other in the morning.

Entering the office, he doesn’t find her there; they must have just missed each other. He logs into his email and opens a new message.

Hey G-woman,

What time can you get away for lunch today? I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place on 8th. Or we can meet halfway, whatever works.

Would you like to get dinner sometime this week? My treat. Let me know.

Mulder

He hits send, then digs in to some more case reports that he needs to complete. He has a vision of Scully returning to find them completely caught up on paperwork and how pleased she’d be with him, and decides then and there to make it a reality. While he’s not generally an approval-seeking kind of guy, the surprised smile on Scully’s face when he does something uncharacteristically responsible is one of his favorites. The number one spot will always, of course, be held by the smile she gives him when he says or does something that truly strikes her as funny. He finds it hard to keep from smiling just thinking about it.

Two hours later, there’s no response from Scully. That’s a little bit weird, but not exceedingly so; if she’s working on a particularly gnarly autopsy it can take quite a while. When he still hasn’t gotten a response by noon, he first checks his sent email to be sure it went out, then picks up his office phone.

“Autopsy bay, this is Richard.”

“Hey, Rich, this is Agent Mulder up at the Hoover Building.”

“Hi, Agent Mulder, how can I help you?”

“Is Agent Scully around? I was hoping to talk to her.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Not at all today?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, actually.”

A flush of worry spreads across his chest.

“Hey, Rich, are you guys pretty busy down there? I hear you have a big case you’re working on.”

“Busy? Uh, no, not really. Just business as usual.”

“Okay, thanks. If you see Agent Scully, will you ask her to call me?”

“Sure, will do, Agent Mulder.”

“I appreciate it, bye.”

He sets the phone down and sits back in his chair. Did Scully lie to him? And if so, why? Her car is here, so he knows she came in today. Picking up the phone again he tries her cell, which goes straight to voicemail. The darkest part of his brain worries that she came to the office but never made it to Quantico. He makes one final phone call.

“Skinner.”

“Hi, sir, this is Agent Mulder.”

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?”

“Have you heard from Agent Scully today? I’m having a hard time getting in touch with her.”

“She’s assigned to work at Quantico for the next few weeks, Agent Mulder, she wasn’t expected to report to the Hoover Building today.”

“I know, sir, but her car was in the garage when I got here and I just called over to Quantico and they haven’t seen her today. I’m a little worried.”

He hears Skinner mutter what sounds like “Jesus H Christ” under his breath before he speaks again. “Agent Scully is fine, Agent Mulder. She’s on assignment. I encourage you to focus on your own assignment.”

Mulder hesitates. “Should I take that to mean that she’s NOT assigned to Quantico?”

Skinner sighs. “All you need to know is that she is fine, but unreachable. You worry about yourself and let me worry about Agent Scully, got it?”

“Um, okay. Thank you, sir.”

He hangs up the phone even more confused than before. Scully’s behavior yesterday after she returned from Skinner’s office makes a little more sense; she was uncomfortable about lying to him. When he leaves the office that night, her car is in the same spot it had been that morning. He doesn’t like this, but he knows Scully was in the same situation when he was on an undercover assignment and he should just trust her, and Skinner, and wait it out. That’s easier said than done, and he spends his entire evening imagining all the dangerous situations she might be immersed in. Drug cartels, amateur mafias, cults, hackers, the list goes on and on. He can only hope that she’s safe.

Damsels in Dominance is an unassuming building nestled between strip malls and fast food restaurants. The parking lot and entrance are at the back of the building, a fabric-draped chain link fence surrounding it for privacy. Scully pays the cab driver, though now that she realizes how close her apartment is to the place she’ll probably just walk back. After much deliberation, she wound up wearing jeans and a blue T shirt, guessing that it would be out of place to dress up for an interview at a strip club. She pulls the front door open and finds herself in a small foyer with a counter along one wall, a hulking man perched behind it on a stool. Even seated she can tell that he’s very tall, with a broad chest and square shoulders. His neck is nearly nonexistent, thick and disappearing into the rolls under his chin like a tree trunk. His head is shaved bald and his deeply tan skin shows evidence of long ago healed acne scars on his ruddy cheeks. A small gold name tag pinned to his T-shirt reads “Denny.”

“Hi, I’m Diane, I’m here for an interview with Ricky,” she says with a smile. She’s decided that Diane will be the kind of person with an easy smile. The kind of person who makes friends quickly. She channels her sister Melissa, who would talk to anyone and somehow have them sharing details of their childhood trauma within fifteen minutes. If she’s going to get these people talking, she needs to be more like Missy and less like herself.

Denny nods with a grunt and stands, proving himself to be at least six inches taller than Mulder; her head barely reaches his waist. He comes around the counter to push open a second door and holds it for her, motioning her to follow. They enter one end of a long hallway, a door directly in front of them labeled “Enter Here to be Dominated.” They walk down the hall, past some restrooms and several other unmarked doors, until they come to one that says “office.” Denny knocks and a small woman answers.

“Diane, 2 o’clock interview,” Denny says in a flat baritone, then turns and walks away.

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lovecanbesostrange · 3 years

Text

Okay, for the poor people on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord suffering because of this ask (x) on konako’s tumblr that lead to things (including this fanart x), I have this wild scene out of context.

Mary Margaret was sitting at her desk, updating her chemistry flashcards. Ruby was sitting on her bed cross-legged staring at her laptop screen, waiting for this English essay to write itself.

“Ugh,” Ruby groaned and let herself fall backwards. Out of habit she put her hands to her face, but winced when her fingers touched the band aid over her eyebrow. It’s been five days.

A knock on the door made them both turn. They usually could tell who it was by the exact sound of the knock. Like Charming had one hard knock followed by two quick ones or Mulan knocked four times in a specific rhythm. So whoever this was, was more than unexpected. Ruby drew in a sharp breath. She had heard back from the police yesterday that there would be no criminal charges, but they both knew something else would arise from this.

Mary Margaret looked at her, then turned her chair to fully face the door and Ruby got back up again. “Come in.”

“Hallo. Good, you’re here.”

“Mom!” Mary Margaret was up in a second and gave her mother a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

Eva hugged her back, but despite the smile on her face, her voice already made them realize this was not a fun surprise visit. “I didn’t know I would be here today either.” The hug ended and she stepped into the room, her gaze landing on Ruby. “I got some news last night and suddenly I was in my car this morning.”

Mary Margaret glanced at the clock. It was a twelve hours drive with good traffic, so Eva must’ve gotten behind the wheel around 4am.

“Hi…” Ruby busied herself closing her laptop and didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Eva stroked Mary Margaret’s hair, “would you mind giving us the room? I want to talk to Ruby.”

“Sure.” Mary Margaret glanced between the two and then grabbed her things from the desk. “I’m down the hall in the common area.” When she passed Eva she whispered: “Don’t be too harsh on her, please.”

That made Eva smile. Her daughter knew exactly why she was here, but she looked out for her friend. These girls always had each other’s back and knowing they were loyal like that, dragging each other out of trouble, was certainly a good thing.

Eva took the vacant chair and rolled herself over a bit towards Ruby’s bed. “So.”

Ruby slowly looked up. Eva took in the bandaid and she could see a faint red line indicating that her lip must have been busted. Trying to hide one hand with the other was a giveaway that her knuckles were bruised as well. Eva had to breathe slowly. A part of her wanted to grab Ruby by the shoulders and shake the whole story out of her. She wanted to yell about irresponsibilties, the futility of violence and all the consequences physical assault could come with. The bigger part of her wanted to cradle her like the 9 year old she sometimes still saw, who confessed to lying about her home address, as if not having loving parents was her personal failing.

“I was at dinner with friends last night and suddenly got asked if I heard about the ruckus on campus. I was really surprised when I was shown this tiny article about a football player beating up another student. And it took me two phone calls to find out it was you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby murmured towards the blanket she was sitting on, playing with the seam of her sweatpants.

“For what?” Eva tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible. She had felt every emotion during the long drive and had played out many versions of this conversation. But sitting in this room she realized none of those would work.

Ruby furrowed her brows and finally looked up. “Beating up that guy, of course?” It was a bit more of a question than a statement. The question had rattled her. There was so much to be sorry for though. The beating, losing her temper at all, making Regina worry that night already, not doing so great in classes lately, clinging to Snow, making her team suffer… oh, wait. “Also for not calling… I guess…”

The board said that her mother, Anita, would be notified of this by mail. That was her home address, her contact, but maybe this was why Eva was here. The Blanchards had always cared, but now she was in college, she wasn’t a kid anymore, she had to do these things by herself. But maybe, just maybe they should have called. “I shouldn’t have put this on Snow alone… she should’ve talked to you…”

“Ruby, no.” Eva got up and sat down on the bed, gesturing Ruby to scoot over next to her. “Sure, I’m disappointed-”

The word stung and Ruby interjected immediately. “I’m sorry. I messed up, but I promise Snow wasn’t even there and I won’t-”

“Stop!” Eva took Ruby’s hands, now seeing the bruises already turning yellow, showing the passage of time already. “I am disappointed you didn’t call. And I’m glad to hear Mary wasn’t involved, but I wanted to know anyway. Because of you. I care about you. And this is serious. I know…” She paused and slowed down, knowing the next thing would hurt, but after all these years, Eva needed to say it out loud. “I know your mom doesn’t take good care of you, I know you feel like she doesn’t care at all and I honestly don’t know if she does. But I do. I am not your mother, but I care.”

The dam broke and Ruby started to cry. Eva took her into her arms and immediately Ruby clung to her. It was weird that Eva had seen the aftermath of Ruby crying quite a few times over the years, but rarely had she shed tears in front of her. Maybe Eva should have made her before, pushed her a little bit towards that to hammer it home that she cared and that she would be there for her. Just the same she had hugged Mary Margaret after break-ups, over bruised knees, bad grades, and other bad news.

“I’m sorry for everything”, Ruby got out between sobs. Her tears stained Eva’s blouse already. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want to hurt people… I swear I want to be good.”

There was more, but it was hard to decipher it all and Eva let her cry, rubbing circles on her back. Getting the full story would take time, that was for sure. All she could do now was to reassure Ruby. “I know you’re good, you just made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

Eva looked over Ruby’s shoulder and saw her pinboard. A few pictures were on it and she immediately recognized one taken the time she and Leopold had taken the girls to Six Flags. They had ridden all the rollercoasters until they were practically green in the face. It had also been the day she had seen Ruby at her most carefree. There was one photo of Ruby with her Grandmother, a woman Eva had met only once. Anita was nowhere to be found on the wall.

A group shot looked nice. Eva recognized David from the pictures Mary Margaret had sent her, but couldn’t even guess who the others were. It was a bit sad living too far away to meet all these people, because she had made it a point to know Mary Margaret’s friends in school by face and name. Mulan, Belle, August, Robin, Jasmin, Anna, Aurora… so many names. She smiled at the picture in the corner that showed Ruby in her team uniform, helmet in hand. A candid shot, her elbow resting on the shoulder of another girl. Or maybe it was young woman now.

Eva turned a bit to catch a glimpse of Mary Margaret’s pinboard. Cluttered with far more pictures, flyers and notes. They shared a room, they had shared the most parts of their lives for the past 11 years and yet there still was such a noticeable difference.

Ruby started to calm down and when she let go, Eva leaned forward to get tissues out of her bag. “Can you tell me your version of the story now? All I know is that you were provoked and sent a boy to the hospital. The article said something about questionable self-defense.”

“There are no criminal charges,” Ruby said after blowing her nose. “He said something to my friend. Insulted her. And he wouldn’t stop, calling her… the c-word… and when he touched me, I lost it.”

“He was in the hospital,” she prompted.

“For a broken arm.” A pause. “A broken nose.” Ruby looked at Eva again. “He lost a tooth. And has some more bruises than I do. He was on the ground fast…”

Eva put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “I have no problem believing you would defend any of your friends like that. But you must have hit him pretty hard.” Ruby nodded, the shame was visible. “Tell me the truth. Has this happened before? Because what I can’t believe is that you would pound someone when he’s already down. Something else is going on and I want to know if that will happen again.”

Ruby pressed her palms against the mattress and slid away a bit. Eva could hear - and even see - her breathing pick up. This was almost all the confirmation she needed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Has it happened before, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Silence fell.

Eva closed her eyes. This was the thing she had feared. Because either Ruby had lost it very big time and the paper didn’t cover the big scoop behind it. Or something had been going on and she had been blind to it. And she needed to hear this from Ruby herself either way.

“When?”

“Back in high school… it was… at junior prom…”

Eva scrambled her brain. She remembered Mary Margaret having a date and giving her one more motherly talk about safe sex that had left her daughter bright red in the face. She also remembered that date bringing her home even before curfew and that Mary Margaret had been not very talkative that night. She had sworn nothing bad had happened with him and Eva only suspected that they’d had a stupid teen argument. There was nothing too remarkable about that. Had she seen Ruby the next day? She couldn’t recall.

While she was thinking, Ruby went on hesitantly. “This boy Peter had asked me out… from the hockey team… but it… it was all a prank… some of those guys wanted to like… set me up for a joke… and... “ She quickly glanced up and right back down again. “It wasn’t as bad, he had bruises and a swollen eye. Snow was there to stop me and we all agreed to not tell anyone. I apologized to him though. And it all… it was… like now… just more… it wasn’t just Whale being a dick to my friend, it’s… everything is so much sometimes and I explode.”

This was less surprising to hear than Eva cared to admit. “Have you ever hurt somebody with intention?”

Ruby shook her head. Her voice was broken. “One time… but only one time… I shoved Snow… I swear it was only once… I yelled at her and shoved her and the second I had done that… I apologized immediately and I never ever intended to hurt anybody.” She looked at Eva again. “Least of all her. I swear.” For this she held eye contact as long as she could.

Eva reached out touching her hand that was clenched around the edge of the mattress. “Thank you for being honest.”

There were a lot of details Eva wanted to know about, but this had been hard enough on Ruby. And now they had time to figure things out. But she had revealed a bright spot. “No criminal charges, you said?”

Ruby nodded. “The police seem very uninterested. And any civil things… well, I need to worry about what the board decides. My… friend said her family will keep things on the down-low.” She squirmed a bit.

“Who is this friend?”

“Regina Mills.”

“Mills? Oh.” Of all the people to get in a fight for, this was probably the luckiest choice. Although it didn’t sit right with Eva that there might be things going to circumvent what law dictated. But she also knew that worse people got away with far worse behavior and Ruby deserved to have one strike with minimal consequences. Even if this was technically her second. “I have looked up a few therapists in town already. I nee-”

“I’m seeing the campus therapist already. But I blew off a few appointments and I get that I shouldn’t.” Eva looked over at Mary Margaret’s bed at that. “Yes, Snow made me. She went with me the first time even.”

“What else are you girls keeping from me?” That came out more judgmental than she meant to. “I know you’re growing up, but you’re still kids to me. I always thought you knew you can come to me with problems.”

“Sorry.”

Eva scooted closer again and put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder. “Enough with the apologies. I know you’re a good kid. I remember you kept Mary from starting to smoke, so that’s something.”

“You know about that?” Ruby looked at her bewildered.

“I am a mom after all and some things I do pick up. You didn’t like it, because you’re an athlete, right?”

“Yeah, it’s super shitty for your lungs and I told her it was uncool.”

Eva laughed. “Wish that would work on Leo and his cigars. But thanks for that. I know you two look out for each other. But I will have to chew out my daughter for keeping a few too many secrets.” Ruby tensed up a bit. “What? Something else I need to know?”

“No…” She dragged the syllable out, dragging her toes over the floor.

“Ruby, I just said you can tell me. That is all I want from you, the truth. And we can work anything out from there.”

“But… what if…” She crossed her arms in front of chest, bracing herself. “What if… I’m not who you think I am?”

“You’re Ruby Lucas. You’re the best friend of my daughter, almost more like a sister. You worked your butt off to get here and you work hard to be the best version of you. I know you even send some of that money home you make at the gas station. Because you care so much about people you love, like your grandmother. I know you are a good person, even though you keep way too much inside. But we can work on that now.” She gave Ruby a kiss on the head, like she would with Mary Margaret. “What could be so bad about you?”

“I’m… I think… I’m gay.” Ruby breathed out that last word and was one tense muscle in Eva’s half embrace.

Eva looked at the pinboard again. The picture with Ruby smiling while leaning on the other girl. It clicked. On top of everything else, this secret had weighed Ruby down. She sure had enough reasons to be angry at the world already. This wasn’t something Eva had prepared for, so she just brought around her other arm to pull Ruby closer. “I want you to be happy and in love.” Finally she felt Ruby breathe in again.

((I just have to stop myself here. This could go on and on and on and on otherwise. Because I already know Eva is gonna take them out to dinner, insisting on meeting David. She gets a hotel room nearby. Of course Snow offers to let her sleep in the dorm but “Honey, that’s kind, but no. So much no to sleeping in a dorm bed.” And she freshens up a bit and passes a book store, where her eye is caught by a pride display and she gets a bracelet with a tiny rainbow flag, two actually, she wears one and gives the other to Ruby, because well, she doesn’t know exactly what to say, but this will definitely not make her think less of her!! Eva is the silent MVP of the story.))

#gender mix football AU #(where nobody gives a fuck about football)#Ruby Lucas #(sorry for spamming the tag - come to the server to yell at me about it)#this fic would be 100k words at this point already - sorry I don't have actual writing stamina for that #konako #somehow it's her fault - and the demons circling her inbox #lazylaziel #if only you knew what you started... even though it's so far removed by now... sorry #$!#RRCAU

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 3 The Dreaming

Notes: James Acaster, Ed Gamble (Platonic), and other characters to be added. Masturbation, Foodplay, Not sure of anything else, Cheeseboards?

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Smut (Self woohoo as the sims would say), Fluff, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,400

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Saturday morning you had awoke with a dry mouth, pounding head, and in desperate need of a bath. Thus far you’d taken the day slow. Occasionally needing to lay down whenever another wave of your hangover hit. This had brought you to the position you’d assumed for most of the day so far. Sprawled out on the sofa with a duvet, hoping someone would magically show up at your door with a plate of comfort food.

Past talking to Ed in the smoking area you couldn’t one hundred percent make out the events late last night. You did however have a hazy memory of returning to said spot an hour later for a secret cigarette with him this time. Something Ed hadn’t done in years. You recalled much more terrible dancing, drinking, and sitting on a wall outside a kebab van at 4am, absolutely steaming.

You also had a new name that you remembered James punching into your phone early in the morning. ‘Dairylea’ the name read. Chucking to yourself you pulled up the chat.

How we feeling Dairylea triangle. x

It was late in the afternoon now, and you were idly watching something on the TV as you typed. James responded after a few minutes.

Can we not bring up food please. Doesn’t feel great not gonna lie

Same here. I haven’t moved all day, feels like I’ve become my sofa.

I found a video

You waited a few seconds before it had loaded on your phone. Turning up the sound and watching. It was you James and Ed outside the kebab truck, sloppily eating and chatting to one another. You holding the phone up, thinking you were taking a picture of the three of you.

“Oh it’s a video, fuck sake” You spoke slower than normal. James laughed at you, taking the phone from you to get a different angle.

“I just want to say. These chips are possibly the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Ed nodded silently from the corner, seemingly more to himself than you or James.

“Try one Y/N”

“I have the same ones James”

“Yes but they’re not my chips.” He held one up to your face “My chips are superior”

“Why’s that then?”

“Because they’re mine”

You watched yourself laugh at his boyish humour and bite the end of his chip.

“You’re funny you know” You spoke with your mouth full.

“I should hope so.”

“No like,” You were staring at him now with a dumb smile plastered across his face. You admitted your next sentence shyly “I really admire you and I think you’re a little bit brilliant but don’t tell anyone.”

“Nah. Any old tit can write some jokes and act like a dick on stage. Ed does it all the time. You’re doing like, actual, important things. Changing people's lives, I think you’re incredible Y/N.”

The two of you stared at each other, sharing a long moment of eye contact and drunk smiles. Ed mumbled something through his mouthful of food. Drawing both of your attention back into the real world and James stopping the recording. You blushed a little to yourself, feeling overwhelmed by the honesty you’d shared with him last night. You hoped you hadn’t said anything more embarrassing.

One for the archives, Ed’s making love to those cheesy chips

Aha yeah he is. Was a good night though, I had fun

Yeah me too! We should all get together again sometime

Maybe not drink as much though

If you’re free anytime this week we could have a movie night?

Only if there is ice-cream on the menu

I’m sure I can make that happen, any flavour preference?

All of them. He responded.

You’d had the hots for James all evening. Since the two of you had wrapped up your conversation you couldn’t get that thought of him out of your head. You couldn’t tell if it was the way you’d seen him look at you on the video he sent or if it was simply your own mind ready to flood you with dark fantasies. And so, when it came to ten o'clock you found yourself in bed, wearing only your bra and pants, unable to get him off your mind.

You’d watched the video a few times now. Observing his features cutely scrunch when you talked about him. As well as how they relaxed when talking about you. There was a four second frame in the video where you could see the back of James’s left hand clear as day. You had found yourself mesmerised by the veiny long fingers, thinking about what they could do to you if given the chance. The first three times you’d watched it you felt rather guilty about fantasising over your new friend. But by the fifth watch you sensed a need for release on your own part. Deciding that it wasn’t going to be weird if he never found out. Maybe it was all the flirting you’d done the night previous or simply your hormone cycle. But you were horny and needing to relieve some pressure. You slid your hands inside of your underwear. James voice playing in your mind.

‘Touch yourself Y/N’ he said, and you did as you were told. Following his command, you began to lighting caress on your inner thigh, teasing yourself before the main event. You moved closer into your inner parts, rubbing on your clit and barely entering inside of yourself.

‘Don’t tease’ you imagined him saying. Screwing up your brows before entering inside yourself with one digit. Feeling around your insides becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. You began thinking about his fingers again. How it had felt to have them pressed on your lips and brush the hair from your face the night before. How lovely they might feel rubbing on your clit and reach your sweet spot inside.

“James” you moaned to yourself, breath hitching in your throat as you began to rub on your clit again, harder this time. Deciding fingers were not enough to satisfy your dark fantasy you rolled out of bed to find your vibrator underneath various pairs of underwear in a bottom drawer. Ready to continue you slunk back under the covers.

You took off your underwear and began to rub yourself with the vibrator for a while. The sensation sending waves through you as you pressed firmly against your clit. Already too wet to bear it any longer you slipped it inside, gasping as you did so. You moaned to yourself, Jame’s imaginary voice purring sweet moans back at you. Picturing him rocking in and out of you repetitively as you rubbed more intensely at your clit now. Having something inside being just what you needed. You felt the knot building in your stomach,

‘Y/N’ rolling off his tongue as it has the night before. The thought of his lips laced with tobacco. The knowledge that fucking him would have to be your little secret. All these things turning over in your head as you came closer and closer to your climax. You thought about seeing him again, his last text to you teasing, imagining ice cream all over your body and him licking at you to taste the flavours.

You came then, your climax rolling through you in waves as you fucked down onto the vibrator. Everything going white as you gasped to yourself. Opening your eyes again after dwelling in bliss for some time.

Guilt, shame, and embarrassment clouded over you. Maybe it was more than a crush that you had on James. Ed’s face of disappointment in you running through your mind. You just hoped that James wouldn’t pick up on how you’d been thinking about him next time you met.

A few more days passed of you playing back and forth with your emotions, and you’d arranged for a movie night with James and Ed. It was now early Wednesday evening and you’d just gotten home from work. The day had gone just as bad as it had the previous week, and you had half a mind to cancel on the two of them. But ultimately deciding that maybe some company would help to cheer you up. You didn’t know quite what to cook for dinner and so in the end you’d decided a charcuterie board was the safest option. You knew Ed loved one, so did you, you crossed your fingers and hoped for the best response from James. Serving up cured meats, olives, and crispy bread to go alongside it. You hadn’t needed to cook anything, minus the camembert, just simply arranged the selection on a wooden slab.

You wanted to make an effort tonight. It wasn’t often that you had people over and you loved to have people feel comfortable in your own home. It relaxed you as well. You’d bought ice cream, just as he requested with a blush at the memory of a few nights ago. You had deserved it after such a long day at work. Ed arrived first. Making his way up from rehearsals.

“Hey” He smiled, barking at you from the doorway, bottle of red in his hands. “I didn’t want to come empty handed” Ed was wearing a plain blue jeans and a white tee with a casual bowling shirt over the top.

“Thanks Ed, I’ll put it out to share”

“Is James here yet?”

“No he’s on his way, he said he wouldn’t be long”

Ed plopped down on the sofa, you’d brought out your duvet to create a more cosy atmosphere which he’d embraced rather gracefully. He kicked off his shoes (not before asking permission) and curled up underneath the far end. You poured yourself a wine, as well as one for Ed. You joined him now, grabbing the remote and flicking through your movie options, just as a knock rapped at the door.

“Come in James,” You shouted “Its unlocked love”

James opened your door. Wearing a pair of red corduroy trousers and thick cosy sweater. His socks, you noted, were a bright mustard colour. Visible from how his trouser cuffs folded. He fully entered your living room holding a shopping bag in his hand containing a bottle of wine also.

“What’ve I missed?” James asked, giving the two of you a sweet smile.

“Nothing mate I just got here.”

“I brought wine”

“So did Ed”

“We best get them open then”

“Beat you to it my love.” Your words rolling naturally off your tongue as James too a seat down next to you. You hadn’t anticipated how close all of you would have to squeeze onto your three-seater. Needing some air, you quickly announced. “I made us a board. I’ll go get it,”

“Oh lovely” Ed hummed, rubbing his hands together before reaching for his glass of wine. “I’ll pick a film?”

“Yeah sure”

Making your way into the kitchen you thanked James another time for his gift to share. He took it out of the bag for you. Passing you the bottle carefully your fingers accidentally lapping over his own during the exchange. The static feeling shocked you, but you tried not to let on it affected you at all. James eyes met yours for a split second, wide orbs darting quickly towards your lips before breaking the contact. Via eyes and the bottle. You waddled to the kitchen. Baffled by what had just happened. Hoping to god Ed was too occupied with the TV to notice. You needed to get your shit together, why was this man beginning to have you stop dead in your tracks like that. You’d known him less than a week. And although you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that tonight was going to feel like the longest night of your life.

Panicking over, you made your way back into the room with the board and James wine glass held between you fingers. Not wanting to have another moment of awkwardness you opted to place both of them onto the coffee table, rather than passing it directly to James.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Prince of Egypt”

“Odd choice? Not see that in years”

“Me neither. I loved it when I was a kid”

“Yes, plus, Moses is a hunk” James added sarcastically to the conversation. Making you both smile and shake your heads. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me just…” You stepped over James’s legs between the table. Climbing inside of the duvet between him and Ed. Getting comfortable, you reached over for your glass of wine, which Ed passed you (Notably without sparks or eye contact to have you blushing) and he began to play the film. You relaxed into the back of the sofa taking a sip, running it over your tongue.

The movie played and you all picked at the food you’d made and drank the wine they had bought. At around the halfway mark, James moved his position so that the outside of both your arms were resting against each other. The soft of his jumper’s fabric making you relax into it. Adjusting your hip slightly so that you leant onto him for support. Your actions were subliminal but luckily didn’t offend James as he relaxed into your body too. Only when the film had finished and James had moved to sit on the opposite side of the coffee table, as Ed supposed to play a game, did you notice. Your body missing the warmth that had radiated from his, encouraging you to shiver when he left your side.

“Pudding?” James asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Um, yeah I got,” Oh god. “Ice cream in the freezer”

You’d hoped slightly that he would forget about pudding all together. But you couldn’t exactly convince yourself as you recalled him sloppily describing you how he had a damaging sweet tooth Friday night. He was across from you, directly across from you. And you’d now have to watch him eat Ice cream while the two of you made casual eye contact without getting unbearably hot and bothered.

The two of them left you alone in the room. Ed to dig through your board games for Cluedo, and James to give everyone a helping of dessert. You tried hard not to focus on the torture you were about to endure, that you had caused for yourself no less. It was going to be a very long night indeed.

#james acaster x reader #james acaster imagines #james acaster fanfic

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 3 years

Text

Code Silver - Life in the ER

This is the continuation of my “Life in the ER” series. This takes place two months after the previous installment. As always, you don’t necessarily have to read the previous installments but it may help clarify any questions you have.

Now take note of this MAJOR WARNING - there is an active shooter situation in this chapter. There will be blood, cussing, needles, surgery and death in this chapter. You have been warned.

I do not own Dr. Leighton. His name was originally used in Code Black, which is one of my favorite medical dramas. I do not own that name. And Dr. Weasley is named after the famous red-headed family in Harry Potter - I don’t own that name either.

As always, feedback would be wonderful and much appreciated. Buckle up kids, this is going to be a doozy of a ride.

June 10, 2021 11:00am

He never wished for a normal day while working in the ER but he wished for one today. Wishing for normal days, usually, meant that the hours in the ER were filled with chaos and craziness and somehow even more casualties than an average shift. He sighed as he thought back on the long night he had. Mack had been up most of the night, and usually Race could get her settled down but he was at his wits end. Spot ended up getting up to help him, making the 5am wake up call a struggle.

“Get it gear, Conlon.” Plums teased as she stood at the nurse’s desk giving a look. “Coffee not kicking in?”

Groaning, he looked up from the keyboard he was staring at a little too intently, nodding to the white cup sitting beside his hand. “This is my fifth cup; if it hasn’t kicked in yet then I don’t think there’s hope. Little miss only wanted me last night.”

“Ahhh those days are fun. Addie is in a Jack phase right now and I’m chopped liver.” Plums grinned. “Hopefully that won’t last long?”

Spot shrugged. “It’s been a week already. It doesn’t help when I’m working the early shift. She loves to party between 2 and 4.”

“Ugh do not miss those days. Addie is finally sleeping all the way through the night. She gets up at 5:30, just as I’m walking out the door though.” She smiled as Albert slid into a chair. “You okay, Al?”

He grinned. “Yea, patient in room four needs a checkup at some point. What’d I missed?”

“Noted - thanks. Spot’s kid throwing a rager from 2-4am.” Plums pointed out.

Albert chuckled loudly. “Ahh that sounds like fun.”

“Don’t laugh - this’ll be you this time next year.” Spot pointed his index finger in Albert’s direction. Finch and Albert had announced their little bundles of joy would be arriving around the beginning of December.

The grin slid from his face as Spot’s words made him pause. “Shit. I guess I will be taking notes from you both before that time.”

A call came over the intercom as Plums grabbed a chart before heading down the hallway. “Duty calls. Meet you guys in the cafe around 1 for lunch?”

“See you then.” Spot saluted her as he finished typing up his notes, looking over his shoulder at Albert who was writing in his own chart. “You doing good?”

A smirk crossed Albert’s face. “Doing well. Finch mentioned that we should have you and Race and Jack and Kat over for a cookout.”

“That’ll be fun.” Spot sighed, typing something in the chat he was having with another doctor, groaning as he stood up. “I’ve got to go draw another vial of blood. Don’t miss me too much.”

Albert blew him a kiss as he watched him walk away with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry, pooks, I won’t.”

Spot quickly drew the vial of blood from his patient in bay 12 before walking it upstairs to deliver Elmer. “Got some fresh, still warm blood for you. Orders should be in your inbox.”

“How’s the world of emergency today? Quiet?” Elmer accepted the vial before typing a few keys on his keyboard, giving Spot a quick smile.

Spot sighed, leaning against the wall, trying to stretch his back. “It’s quiet but two ambulances were pulling up just as I escaped up here. Is it 6pm yet?”

“Sorry, you still have 6.5 hours to go.” Elmer was way too cheerful as he delivered that news to Spot, who merely groaned.

The hospital phone that was attached to his hip dinged with a message that made him smile. “Hey if you haven’t eaten by 1, we’re planning on eating in the cafe. Come by.”

“I’ll see if I can get away. These results will be in your patient’s chart by the time you get back downstairs.” Elmer grinned.

Saluting him, Spot grinned. “Thanks, Elm. You’re the best.”

Whistling along to a song that was stuck in his head, he headed back downstairs, via the stairs. He hopped down the stairs as he thought about everything that he needed to do before his shift ended. Just as his foot hit the bottom stair, the intercom blared to life with a “Code Silver” followed by the Emergency Department as the location. Words you never wanted to hear in a hospital. A shiver ran down his back as his brain processed the words. Gripping the handle of the staircase he faltered in his step. Active shooter.

Throwing open the heavy stairwell door, he found himself in a surprisingly empty hallway. His shoes squeaked softly as he made his way to an empty patient room, quickly darting behind the door for protection. Grabbing the blue hospital issued phone, he opened it, silencing the volume. He sent a message both to Plums and Albert asking them where they were.

As he waited, all he could hear was someone yelling and the blood rushing through his ears. The phone vibrated in his hand as he quickly brought it up to eye level. From Plums: Patient’s room, door locked, everyone okay. You?

Ignoring her message for now, he started making his way back towards the center of the Emergency Room. In the back of his mind, he knew he should get out while he could but not while his sister-in-law and best friend were in the middle of danger.

“Where the hell is Nicole Ridder?” A loud voice raged, catching his attention as he slid under a desk. “Where is she?”

A gunshot went off as several more screams pierced the air as a hand slammed on a desk. “Where is she?”

Looking around the corner, Spot’s eyes went wide, as he took in the scene. Albert was under the desk, the very desk the man was loudly banging his fist on. Sadie, a nurse that Spot didn’t know too well, was staring down the man. “Sir, there is no Nicole Ridder here. I just checked our in-patients and there’s no one here by that name.”

“She texted me and said she’s here and now you won’t fucking let me see her.” The man screamed as another gunshot exploded, breaking the silent air. All Spot could do was watch Sadie crumble as the bullet hit her.

The man hit his hand once more before taking several steps, waving the gun in front of several other nurses, the air returning quiet. “Nicole, where are you?”

The man neared Spot’s position, as he tried to make himself smaller. “NICOLE!”

His shouts became more desperate as he started pushing open closed doors. Spot tried to regulate his breath as the man’s footsteps came closer.

He stopped at the desk that Spot was sitting under, his hand pounding the top. His voice was gruff as he cocked the trigger of the gun. “I know there are more people here - just tell me where in the hell Nicole is and I won’t shoot up the place.”

A cry broke the silence, as both Spot and the man looked towards a closed door. Within seconds the man was standing in front of the door, the butt of the gun banging against the solid wood door.

His hand tightened around the door handle, jiggling it to open it but found it locked. “NICOLE, OPEN THIS DOOR! I know you’re in there.”

A noise behind Spot made him look. Albert and a few other nurses made a break for it, running for a door that would lead them outside. Spot felt a rush of air escape his mouth. Albert was safe. But he feared for Plums’ safety.

Plums’ POV

The jiggling of the door handle sent a shiver down her back. She was currently hiding behind the bed, with her patient and her patient’s child, trying to keep them both safe. Putting a finger to her mouth, she locked eyes with the two.

She had been about to discharge Josie, who had strep throat, when the Code Silver had come over the intercom. Immediately she had shut the door, locked it and put the chair under the handle, blocking them in the small room.

“NICOLE, OPEN THIS DOOR! Goddammit I know you’re in there.” The jiggling continued as tears crowded her eyes. She attempted to calm her breathing.

Grabbing the blue phone, she quickly typed something in and sent it to both Albert and Spot, hoping the two of them got out before this madness began.

“NICOLE DAMMIT OPEN THIS DOOR.” The man’s voice pleaded as his fists hit the door, each bang louder than the previous.

She slipped her hand into the little girl’s, giving it a squeeze, as she prayed that the ordeal would end soon.

Spot’s POV

He felt the phone vibrate in his hand as he opened the message.

I’m in the room with her and her daughter.

The gasp escaped his mouth before he could help it but the pounding on the door told him the gunman hadn’t heard. He wished he had his personal cell on him but the hospital frowned upon that. He just wanted to get a message to Race.

His thoughts stopped for a minute. Race. His husband who was out on summer break, at home with their daughter. Or maybe he and Jack took the girls out for lunch and were at least together. Leaning his head back, he stretched his neck muscles, praying that he’d get to see his daughter and husband at least one more time.

Taking a steady breath, Spot’s mind started turning. He needed to get that gunman away from that door if Plums had a chance to get away.

Opening up the phone, he quickly typed out a message to Plums Right outside the door under the desk.

His butt was falling asleep as he sat scrunched up under the desk. He slowly adjusted himself, cussing when his shoe squeaked. Spot cussed under his breath as the pounding on the door came to a standstill. “Who’s there?”

Eyes wide, Spot bit his lip in an attempt to stay quiet. “Show yourself or I will put a bullet through this door. This isn’t a game.”

Another gunshot sounded as screams pierced the air. Several more gunshots were fired in quick succession as the man growled under his breath. “Damnit, Nicole, get your skinny ass out here now. Quit playing these damn games.”

Another several gunshots were fired through the door, wood splintering as the bullet made contact. Several screams pierced the quietness, one of which was most definitely Plums.

Spot could hear the man pacing in front of the door, as his shoes squeaked with each pass. Every few seconds, the butt of the gun would knock against the door. Spot could hear him growl, growing frustrated by the situation at hand. “You leave me no choice, Nicole.”

Before he could take another breath, the gun was fired in quick rounds, several bullets hitting the wooden door as screams erupted from the small room. Spot eased out from his position, looking at the man as he screamed and unloaded his gun into the small room.

He heard the familiar click of the gun, signaling that it was out of ammunition. Spot took that moment to stand and look at the man. He moved stealthily, as he made his way to the man. Before he could think, he punched the man, successfully crumbling him to the ground. The gun went sliding down the hallway as Spot punched the man a few times. “Plums, get them the hell outta here.”

The man attempted to hit Spot back but was unsuccessful and several seconds later, the police came in, slapping handcuffs on the man before helping Spot up.

Spot stood, chest heaving as his brain caught up on what had just happened. He faltered in his step just as a police man caught him. “Sir, you okay?”

“Dizzy.” He mumbled just as he collapsed and fell to the ground.

Plums’ POV

Holding up her hands, she hurled herself over to the police and told them to get the hell in there, that the gunman had been subdued.

Without another word, she watched several police officers make their way into the building as she was led to a makeshift medical area. She was led to a stretcher where her vitals were checked and she was given a check over. She had some cuts from glass and bruises but nothing life threatening. The mental reminders would take some time to overcome. Albert wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders as she sat on the bed. “It was Spot.”

Albert’s hands stilled as he took her blood pressure. “Spot what?”

“Spot subdued the gunman by hitting him and knocking him out.” Plums whispered as she looked at Albert.

Albert dropped the stethoscope, before pulling her into a hug, as she lost it. The tears, fears, relief all came bubbling to the surface. He hushed her, brushing his hand up and down her back as he attempted to calm her down. “Hey it’ll be okay. Jack, Race, and Finch are all outside and as soon as you’re done, I’ll bring them all back, okay?”

She nodded, her breath coming out in gasps, as he took her blood pressure. He did a few other checks, she figured for bullets or any other damages before jotting down something on the piece of paper at the makeshift table. “Do you want me to stay or go get them?”

“Can you stay and have someone get them? Also, where’s Spot?” She asked, eyes wide with the fear still radiating through her body. She knew the adrenaline would be cursing through her body for some time yet.

Albert nodded, stepping out for a moment before coming back in. “Maddie is going to get Jack, Race, and Finch and she’s checking on Spot.”

“Albie?” She asked, clutching the blanket tighter around her.

“Yea Plums?” He asked, scribbling something on a chart in front of him. He looked up, looking at one of his family members, trying to keep it all together.

She sniffled, looking at the cut on her hand. “Was anyone killed?”

He stilled with the question, dropping the pen before walking over to wrap her in a hug as she broke down crying. “Shhh.” He whispered as he ran a hand up and down her back.

Tears clouded his eyes as he listened to her heartbreaking sobs. Soon they turned to snuffs as she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “Sorry.”

“No, Kat, you have nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head. “You’re safe and your body is trying to regulate itself. It’s okay. But to answer your question, I haven’t heard anything about anyone. Once I got out, they checked me out and said they needed help with injuries so I’ve been doing this. I was just relieved to see you run out.”

Looking up, she gasped seeing Jack, Race, and Finch all standing there. Before she could do anything, Jack was pulling her into a hug as she busted into another round of tears. Jack was mumbling stuff in her ear and running his hand through her hair as she immediately felt safe in Jack’s arms. Leaning back, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Love you too.”

Stepping away from Jack, she pulled Race into her arms as he sniffled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Where’s Spot?”

“He was the one who subdued the gunman. He’s probably talking to the police.” She mumbled, watching Race’s face crumble.

She watched many emotions cover Race’s face as he faltered. “He did what?”

“I don’t know how but he knocked the gunman out and told me to get out of there.” She looked at him. “He’s a hero, Race.”

Tears clouded Race’s face as she pulled him back into a hug. “He was fine when I was running out of there so I’m sure he’s talking to the police.”

She soothed him, by rubbing a hand up and down his back. She watched Jack talk to Albert and Finch. “Where are our girls?”

“Medda has them.” Race pulled back, wiping his eyes. “Jack and I were hanging out at your house when she stopped by. When this came across the news, Jack said we needed to get down here. We held our breaths every time the door opened. We got here just after Albert came running out.”

Nodding, she sat back on the bed, wrapping the blanket around her. She looked over at Finch, whose fingers were laced with Albert’s. “Hi Finch.”

“Hi Kat. Glad you’re okay.” He smiled, squeezing Albert’s hand.

Nodding, she looked at the men in the room, sighing. “Hey Al, can you go check with Maddie?”

He nodded, leaning over to kiss Finch before escaping out of the medical area.

Sighing, she kicked her legs, antsy with wanting to know what was keeping Spot. She figured the police would want to talk with him but he should be done by now. She felt Jack stand behind her with his hand on her shoulder. She knew it would be a long time before he would be able to have her out of his sight.

Albert’s face was stoic as he returned with a police officer. “Plums, this is Office Ramirez. He’d like to talk to us for a few minutes.”

“Katherine Kelly, sir. This is my husband Jack and our friends, Tony, Albert, and Patrick. Tony is Sean’s husband. Can you tell us what’s going on with Sean Conlon?” Plums sat up straight, trying to look more authoritative than she felt. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as he was introduced. Usually having a police office come talk to them was never a good thing.

Officer Ramirez shifted, pulling his hat off before looking at the same group of friends. “I was first through the doors when I saw Sean on the floor punching the gunman. Several officers took care of the gunman while I went over to Sean. I got him to his feet when he mumbled that he was dizzy and before I knew it, he had fainted.”

“Doctor White was in the vicinity and immediately started checking Sean. In the initial check, he had blood on the left side of his scrubs. Several nurses and Dr White loaded him onto a gurney and rushed him upstairs to surgery.” Officer Ramirez’s face was grime as he relayed the information. Race gasped, processing the information. “If you’d like, I will escort you up to the surgery floor where you can wait?”

Kat sat back as the words hit her. She looked over at Race, who staggered a bit, only for Albert’s arm to wrap around his waist. “That would be great. But I have one other question - was anyone killed today?”

The officer paused. He was conflicted on how much he should actually tell them. “There were two nurses and an orderly that were killed. There were several that were injured by the stray bullets.”

Tears crowded Kat’s eyes as she thought about her coworkers and their families. Hanging her head, she let a sob out as someone put their arms around her. She looked up at Race whose face was tight with a mix of emotions as he hugged her. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked at Officer Ramirez. “I’ll need a few minutes to talk with some of my colleagues but after that, can you escort us upstairs?”

“Absolutely ma’am. There will be a police officer outside the waiting room just for some extra protection. And we will need to speak with you and Mr. DaSilva at some point.” The office said, as Kat nodded.

She pushed the blanket off of her before she looked at Jack. Leaning up, she gave him a quick kiss and hugged Race before walking out into the still mayhem scene.

Maddie came up and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay. Any word on Spot?”

“He’s in surgery but that’s all I know. We’re going to head up to the surgical waiting room. Can you let the head honchos know?” Plums asked, giving the young nurse a look, as she looked around the mayhem of police officers, nurses, and patients.

Maddie quickly nodded. “I can do that. Do you want me to have food sent up?”

“Thanks, that would be nice since all of us just want a status update.” She smiled at Maddie.

“Consider it done. Just let us know when he’s out and doing okay?” She asked, as Plums quickly agreed before going back to the medical area.

Making sure they had everything, Kat gave Officer Ramirez a look as he led them through the eerie empty halls of the Emergency Room to the elevators. Katherine moved quickly, not wanting to be reminded of what had happened there just a short while ago. The group was silent as they got on the elevators, watching the numbers slowly rise up to level 8, the surgical floor.

Several police officers were already waiting outside of the waiting room as they stepped off the elevator. Kat led the group into the room, where a couple of styrofoam containers were on a table along with two sets of scrubs. “If you need anything, my officers will be outside. When you’re ready to talk to us, just let us know.”

“Thank you for everything. Let us get changed and get some food, then at least I’ll be ready to talk.” Kat told him before she looked at Albert, who nodded.

Officer Ramirez gave her a slight smile before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

She watched Albert and Finch walk over to the food as Jack and Race hovered near her. She smiled weakly at them both before picking up a pair of scrubs and walking over to the bathroom to change. Not wanting to see the scrubs she had on ever again, she threw them into the trash before joining the men in the waiting room. As the door closed behind her, she pulled her hair down, wanting her hair to be done, instead of up in a ponytail like it normally was when she was on shift.

Jack and Race had styrofoam containers balanced on their knees as they ate. Finch and Albert were throwing theirs away.

“There’s a sandwich and mac and cheese there for you.” Jack motioned over to the table as he continued to eat.

Nodding, she sat at the table, immediately opening the mac and cheese container and eagerly eating the cheesy goodness. “Any word?”

Shakes of heads were her answer as she sighed and banged her head against the wall. She knew she should go downstairs to get hers and Spot’s stuff but she just didn’t have the energy.

Her eyes darted around the room. Apart from the eerie quietness, the people in the room were okay. She just wished she could find out what was up with Spottie and why it was taking so long. Her brain kicked into medical mode and she wondered how serious Spot’s injuries really were.

“Kat?” Jack broke her train of thoughts by softly calling her name. She raised an eyebrow at him. “The police are ready to talk to you if you are.”

Nodding, she quickly threw away her trash, grabbing a water bottle before she walked out of the room, ready to be done with the day.

Jack looked at Race who was twiddling with his hands, looking absolutely lost. “Race?”

“Yea Jack?” He asked, looking up from playing with his wedding band.

“I know it’s a stupid question but you doing okay? Do you need anything?” He asked.

Race shrugged, sighing. “I just want to lay eyes on him and make sure he’s okay. My mind keeps playing the what if game and it won’t stop until I can see him.”

“Do you want me to have momma bring up the girls?” Jack asked, knowing Kat would want to see Addie sooner rather than later.

Race was torn. On the one hand, it would be good to hold Mack until he knew about Spot; on the other, the little girl would want to explore the unfamiliar place and Race didn’t know if he could be patient with her as his nerves were already frayed. “As much as I would love to say yes, she’s better off with momma at the house.”

Jack nodded. “Do you want to play cards?”

Race loved his brother but he could slug him at the moment. He understood what Jack was trying to do but he just wanted to know how the hell Spot was doing. “No Jack. I’m fine. Just anxious to hear how Spot’s doing.”

Silence fell over the room as Race began to day dream. He thought back to earlier that morning. Did he even say he loved Spot as he said goodbye to him? Did he say have a good day or that he’d text him later? Race let his head fall backwards as it collided with the wall. Tears crowded his eyes at the lack of updates and knowledge of what the hell was going on.

Race wasn’t going to lie. It was painful to see Jack and Kat along with Albert and Finch reunite as he sat there awaiting the news of his husband. Race just prayed to whoever that Spot was okay and he would be back by his side soon.

His eyes met the clock on the wall. 1:35. Just over two hours since he heard the news about an active shooter at the hospital and his heart damn near stopped.

Pulling out his phone, he noticed there was a 40 in the top corner of his messages. People had been contacting him to find out if Spot was working and if he was okay. Race just didn’t have the heart to reply to any of them. The only one he opened was from momma as she had sent a photo of Kenzie sleeping. He smiled slightly before locking his phone and putting it back in his pocket.

The opening of the door caught his attention as a nurse slipped through. “I’m Maeve. Is this the family of Sean Conlon?”

Nodding, Race looked at the young nurse with a pleading look. “I’m his husband. Is he out of surgery?”

“I was in the operating room. The doctor is just finishing up surgery and will be in shortly.” Maeve tight lipped smiled at them.

Race cleared his throat. “Is he okay?”

“I’m sorry but the doctor will be out shortly.” She apologized as she slipped out of the room.

Jack stood, stretching his back. “I’ll go let Kat know. Anyone need anything?”

Everyone shook their heads, watching him leave the room. Race tapped his feet, a renewed energy knowing that soon he’d have some answers and maybe he could see Spot sooner rather than later.

Kat joined Jack as they came back into the room. Before she took a seat, she held something out to Race. “I had the police collect his belongings from downstairs. He has quite a lot of missed calls and texts.”

Race accepted the phone and Spot’s canvas bag with a nod. He didn’t go through it, and merely pocketed the phone. “How was your talk with the police?”

“Okay. They just wanted to make sure they had all their ducks in a row. They’re going to want to talk to Spot and you, Albert.” She directed her last words to him as he nodded, fingers laced with Finch’s.

“It might be a few days before Spot’s up for it.” Race gave his sister-in-law a look.

She quickly nodded, looking at him. “The police are well aware of that fact. His doctors will have to clear it before he is able to do so. Plus he’ll have us by his side when he does talk to them.”

The door opened once more as they all looked up. “Doctor Leighton.”

“Katherine, I’m glad you’re doing okay.” He gave her a side hug as he turned to the other four. “I’m Doctor Leighton, I did Spot’s surgery.”

“This is Tony, Sean’s husband. My husband Jack. You know Albert and his husband Finch.” Kat made the introductions. “How’s Spot?”

Doctor Leighton nodded at all of them before taking a seat. “Spot’s okay. He’s in recovery at the moment. It was tough and go for a while. He had a bullet hit him on his left side. We ended up having to remove his spleen but he lost a lot of blood. We’re currently giving him blood transfusions to try to replenish what was lost.”

“Will he make a full recovery? Can he live without his spleen?” Race asked, looking between Kat and the doctor.

The doctor nodded his head. “Yes, he will make a full recovery and at this point, we don’t see any cause of concern. We’re waiting for him to wake up. And yes, he will be fine to live without his spleen.”

“What are your concerns for him in the next 48 hours?” Kat asked, as Race was glad she asked because he didn’t know what else to ask.

Dr. Leighton sighed. “You know the concerns, Katherine. Since the spleen is so instrumental in fighting infections, I’m a bit more concerned with him catching infections going forward. He will need to make sure he’s up to date on all of his vaccines after he’s discharged.”

“So I should be more concerned when he comes down with a cold?” Race piped up as the doctor nodded.

Kat nodded. “Yes, especially in the next year as his immune system adjusts.”

“When can we see him?” Race asked, his toes tapping anxiously, just wanting to lay eyes on his husband.

Dr. Leighton looked at Race, smiling softly. “Give us about 20 minutes to get him moved to a room then you can see him.”

“Thank you Dr. Leighton.” Kat stood, shaking his hand as the rest of them did the same. He gave them a tight smile before he left them alone.

“Well he was helpful.” Race choked out as Jack Finch, and Albert both snorted.

Kat shook her head. “He’s a brilliant surgeon but he’s got little bedside manner. I’d request him in a heartbeat, a thousand times over some of the surgeons in this hospital.”

Race nodded, trusting her 1000% with anything medical related. Standing up, he started pacing, just wanting the time to go by fast so he could see Spot. “Race?”

He stopped, looking at Kat who softly called his name. “Do you need anything?”

“Just to see my damn husband.” Race sighed. “Sorry but I can’t think of anything else until I lay eyes on him.”

Kat nodded, as she couldn’t imagine if that was Jack in surgery and wanting to see him to make sure he was okay. “You heard Dr. Leighton, Race. He’s okay but I understand your frustration. Do you want us to hang back when you first see him?”

“Do you mind?” Race asked, his voice small, not wanting to give away how scared he truly was.

She stood, pulling him into a hug, running her hand up and down his back. “Of course not. You should be the first to see him. We’ll hang around while you go to visit him. Al still needs to talk to the police so he can do that while you go see him.”

The door opened and the nurse from earlier stood there. “We’ve got him settled into his room. We still have him sedated but you can go ahead and see him.”

Kat nudged Race. “Go see our boy and give him our love. We’ll hang back and see him later, alright?”

Nodding, Race hesitantly stepped forward as he followed the nurse down the hall to a room in the corner. “I’ll be right at the nurse’s desk in case you need anything.”

She propped open the door as he silently walked inside. There were two IVs, one going in each hand, one fluid of clear liquid, the other full of blood. He stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the step up, two chairs, one on each side of the bed, along with a table and two chairs off in the corner. Stepping around the bed, he sat in one of the chairs, and being careful of the IV, lacing his hand with Spot’s.

“Hey Spot.” He whispered, torn between waking him up and letting him sleep. Race had always loved watching his husband sleep, due to the fact when he was awake, he was never still. Spot was always moving around, unable to really settle unless he was sick or sleepy. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re some kind of hero. You saved a lot of people today, Spottie.”

Time, Spot only needed time. Time to heal, time to recover, time to wake up. “I know you want to sleep but I really want to see your pretty brown eyes. It’s been a pretty rough afternoon and I need to tell you I love you, because I’m not sure I actually said it this morning.”

“I’m not leaving, Spot. Wild horses couldn’t pull me away.” Race promised, squeezing his hand. “Kat, Jack, Albert, and Finch are out in the waiting room. Momma is at the house with Mack and Addie. As soon as you wake up, I’ll get her to bring the two of them up to see you.”

He continued to ramble about random things, always being told that patients could hear when they were unconscious. He didn’t want Spot to be alone and promised to fill the quiet room with his cheerful chatter.

Race held his breath, knowing that Spot would wake up with time but he wasn’t the most patient person. Squeezing his hand, he felt himself relaxing in the chair for the first time since arriving at the hospital. Race kicked his feet up onto the bed and let his head fall back to the back of the chair, listening to the constant beeping from the monitor, his eyes closing as he dozed off.

Kat’s POV

She watched Race leave the room, wanting to join him as he saw Spot but knowing Race needed some time to adjust to having Spot in the hospital bed. Standing up, she felt antsy from waiting so she paced the room as she answered texts from family and friends concerned about her.

“Kat?” Looking up from her phone, she looked over at Jack who had concern written all over his face. “You okay?”

She sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him. “Just antsy. I’m glad Race gets to go see him but I want to check up on him as well.”

Pressing a kiss to her head, Jack nodded. “I know. Despite our rough start, Spot is like a brother to me and it’s hard when we don’t know what the next few days or even weeks will look like. But we have to go along with the doctor who seems optimistic that he’ll be alright in the long run.”

Kat reached over and laced her fingers with Jack’s. “We’ll see him soon. Let’s give Race some time with him.”

She looked at Finch and Albert and smiled sadly at them. “You two doing okay?”

“Just hanging out until we can see him.” Albert looked as worried as she felt. “You two hanging out for the night?”

Jack shrugged, giving them a look. “Depends on what Race wants us to do. We’re kinda letting him dictate what we’re doing. I just checked in with momma and she said the girls are down for their afternoon naps.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer as the door opened slowly as an older man poked his head in. Standing up, she weakly smiled at him as surprise was evident in her voice. “Dr. Weasley.”

“Katherine, they told me you were up here. I just wanted to check in with you, Spot, and Albert to see how you were doing.” He said as she nodded.

Motioning for him to come in, she sighed. “Spot had emergency surgery and he’s in a room down the hall. This is my husband Jack and Albert’s husband, Finch. Guys, this the director of the ER, Dr. Weasley. We’ve just been hanging out here waiting to see Spot after his surgery.”

Dr. Weasley nodded. “I heard that he had to have his spleen removed - he’s a tough nut and will be okay. I’ve come to tell you that you and Albert have the next week off. There will be a check-in before you’re allowed back into the hospital, per guidelines. As for Spot, we’ll take it day by day with him and when he’s cleared to return.”

“Is there anything we need to do in the meantime?” Albert came by Kat’s side as he was curious what the requirement was going to consist of.

Dr. Weasley smiled at them. “You’ll both need to see one of the hospital’s trauma specialists before you’re released to come back. You will also need to take the mandatory 5 days off before you step back in here.”

“How long will the ER be shut down for?” Kat asked, knowing it was only one of three emergency rooms within the city.

Dr. Weasley shook his head. “It’s going to be shut down for tonight but obviously the hospital doesn’t want it down for too long. They’re hoping to have it back up and running tomorrow morning.”

Frowning, Kat shook her head. “It doesn’t seem right. There were people killed in that ER earlier today and tomorrow it’s back to business like their lives don’t even matter.”

“I agree with you Plums but you know how the head honchos are.” Dr. Weasley agreed as he shook his head.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “It’s just not right. But I make pennies compared to them and I know nothing.”

“Keep up that attitude Plums and you’ll be alright.” He smiled, looking between her and Albert. “Do either of you need anything?”

Albert shook his head with a smirk. “Million bucks, new scrubs, better hospital food?”

“Noted but not sure what I can pull out of my magic hat.” Dr. Weasley looked between the two of them with a shake of his head. “You have my number if you need anything. I’m glad you two are okay.”

Watching him leave, Kat shook her head as the door shut gently behind him. “That was nice of him to check up on us.”

“You know it was because we’re not down at the ER with the rest of the staff.” Albert told her with sarcasm laced in his voice. “He knew it would’ve gotten around the ER if he didn’t come check up on us and Spot.”

Kat nodded. “True. I’m going to check up on Race. You guys staying here?”

Albert agreed while Finch and Jack stayed behind, letting the two of them go. Her shoes squeaked as she walked down the hallway. Pushing open the door, her shoulders immediately relaxed as she took in Spot’s appearance in the bed. A noise drew her attention away from Spot and to the chair beside him where Race was snoring away.

Stepping up to the bed, she looked Spot over as his quiet breathes matched Race’s deep snores. Albert shook his head as he reached up to wipe his eyes before taking Katherine’s hand and squeezing it. “He looks better than I thought he would.”

“What did you imagine?” Kat asked, looking over at him with a smirk.

Albert shrugged. “Bruises, black eyed, ruggedness. You know, someone who just got into a fight but he actually just looks normal.”

“Excuse you, I’m ruggedly handsome.” A voice drew their attention from each other to the bed. A smirk was on Spot’s face as he looked at two friends.

Kat’s eyes immediately watered with tears as she looked at him. “Spot.”

“I’m sore . . . what happened?” He asked as he tried to move but felt instant pain.

Albert stepped up, giving him a look. “You had surgery. They removed your spleen due to a bullet. You fainted in the ER just after the police came to take the gunman away. Race was really worried about you and had been in here for about 20 minutes before he must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Is that what that train sound is?” Spot asked, craning his head to look over to Race, who quietly snored away.

“Yes. He’s been worried sick about you.” Kat smiled. “Do you want me to wake him up?”

Spot shook his head. “Nah, let him sleep. Who’s got Kenzie?”

“Momma’s got her and Addie. Last we knew, they were taking their afternoon naps. Jack, Race, and Finch have been here most of the afternoon. They watched Albert run out.” Kat explained.

Spot nodded, as he bit his lip as a wave of pain coursed through his side. “Anyone killed?”

“Two nurses and an orderly.” Kat frowned. “But thanks to you, no one else was killed. There’s a few injuries but you saved a lot of people, Spot, including Nicole and her daughter.”

Spot shook his head. “I about died when you texted me that you were in the room with them. I knew I had to draw him away from the door in order for you to escape.”

“I’m thankful that you did but I almost passed out when I saw you slugging him.” Kat shook her head. “You’re an idiot Sean but I do love you.”

“Love you too Kat.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Do you want to go get Jack and Finch? I don’t know how much longer I’ll be awake.”

Albert rushed from the room, leaving Kat and Spot alone with the sleeping Race. “He doing okay?”

“Worried about you but he’s been alright.” She smiled. “He has your phone but hasn’t done anything with it. I got your stuff from downstairs.”

Spot nodded. “Thank you, Kat for everything. Any idea how long I’m in here for?”

“Dr. Leighton didn’t say but I’m sure he’ll be around to see you later.” Kat shrugged. “I’m guessing in a few days you'll be released. Albert and I are on mandatory leave for the next week and we have to see one of the trauma specialists before we’re allowed back in the ER.”

Spot didn’t say anything as the door was opened as Jack and Finch stepped into the room with Albert behind them. Kat stepped back, letting the two talk with him. Albert came over and wrapped his arm around her. “Counting your blessings?”

“Something like that.” She smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. “Just really glad my family is okay. Really glad my closest coworkers are alright. Sad that we lost some good people but happy that everyone else is okay.”

Albert shook his head. “Love you Kat.”

“Love you too Albie.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Are you and Finch heading home?”

Nodding, Albert sighed. “I just want to go home and put today out of my mind. I have a feeling we’re in for a few rough days.”

“Agreed. We’ll be around if you need someone to talk to.” She smiled. “I’m only a phone call away, okay?”

He nodded, a ragged sigh left his mouth. He watched Jack and Finch joke with Spot as he started to doze off. Once he was asleep, Finch and Albert made their way out, leaving Kat and Jack with Race and Spot.

“What do you want to do? I’m sure you could use a shower and some Addie cuddles.” Jack suggested as he looked between the two sleeping men in the room.

Kat stretched, a groan escaping her mouth. “You’re probably right but I just don’t feel right just walking away after everything we’ve been through this afternoon.”

“Kat, you’re not walking away.” Jack gave her a look. “How about I take you home, you can shower, cuddle Addie, then we can come back up here and bring them food? Does that sound like a plan?”

Nodding, she pushed off the way, pressing a kiss to both Spot and Race’s foreheads before walking out of the room, hand laced with Jack’s.

An Hour Later

The rustling of bedsheets was the sound he heard as he slowly woke up. Cracking open his eyes, it took a minute to figure out where he was. The hospital, active shooter, Spot surgery all came rushing back to him.

Sitting up in the uncomfortable chair, he cracked his back as he looked at the bed. The most beautiful sight he had seen was staring back at him. Spot, with a smirk on his face, and eyes opened as he stared at Race. “Hi.”

“After all this time and scaring the literal shit out of me, all you can say is hi.” Race was out of the chair and sitting on the side of the bed smirking. “Hi yourself. How are you feeling?”

Spot grimaced. “Sore, really sore. But other than that, okay. Kat and Albie filled me in on everything that had happened when they were here earlier.”

“You were awake and they didn’t wake me up?” Race frowned, giving Spot a look.

Squeezing their linked hands, Spot looked Race in the eyes. “I asked them not to as you were in a deep sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you but I needed to know what had happened.”

“You doing okay, Spottie?” Race asked, worry in his voice.

Spot sighed loudly. “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel. I’m angry that someone interrupted the safe space the ER was. I’m upset that I lost coworkers. But I think I’m mostly grateful that Albie and Kat are both okay and safe.”

Leaning forward, Race captured Spot’s lips in a kiss. “I love you and it’s completely okay that you’re not okay. There were a lot of emotions involved in today but I’ll be here for you as we go through the next couple of days, weeks, and months. Kat and Al aren’t going anywhere and they’ll be here for you, when I can’t.”

“Love you, Racer.” Spot smiled slightly. “Also, you did tell me that earlier this morning before I left the house.”

A light blush raised on Race’s cheeks. “You heard me?”

“Yeah . . . but it was a big foggy so I couldn’t actually tell if you said that or if it was my mind playing tricks on me.” Squeezing his hand, Spot sighed. “I kept kicking myself that I didn’t have my phone on me. I only wanted to get you a message that I was okay and that I loved you. I’m just glad I have the opportunity to tell you that now.”

“Love you Spottie.”

“Love you too Racer.”

Later that Evening

He found himself sitting up in bed, a course of antibiotics and pain medication surging through his body. He was happily slurping on a strawberry milkshake while Race was cracking jokes with Jack. Kat was watching her husband and Race with an amused smile on her face. A few of their coworkers had stopped by to check up on them both, not staying long but to say their thanks to Spot for being a hero.

“You okay, Plums?” He asked over the crackle of Race’s laughter at something Jack had just told him.

Looking up from her fast food chicken nuggets, she smiled. “I’m fine. I got to cuddle Addie and Kenzie, take a shower, and pet Basil for a little bit. I had a good cry in the shower.”

“Promise me, you’ll text if you need anything?” Spot gave her a look, knowing full well that she was just as likely as him to keep things bottled up.

Nodding, she smiled. “Of course. I’ve been made to promise by Jack, Albert, Race, and now you. I scheduled my appointment for the trauma specialist for next week.”

“Good. I’m proud of you for scheduling it out already.” Spot said, giving her a look that he knew what she was thinking.

She couldn’t say another word as there was a knock on the door. Kat raised an eyebrow to Spot, silently asking if he knew who it could be. He shook his head, as she got up and answered the door. She smiled at the guests as she reached out and grabbed Addie. She pushed open the door as Momma walked in, Kenzie in her arms.

“Momma!” Spot sat up and grinned despite the pain on his side. Race stood, taking Kenzie from her arms before kissing her cheek loudly. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought it might be a good idea for you two to see your daughter. Addie is just along for the ride, though I thought her parents could see her too.” Medda grinned, watching Jack take Addie from Kat’s arms. “Besides, I wanted to check up on you to make sure you were okay.”

Spot grinned at the woman who had been the replacement momma in his life. Ever since he and Race started dating, Medda had taken him in as one of her own. “Doing alright momma. Will be laid up for a little bit as I recover but I’ll be just fine in the long run.”

“Good.” She patted his foot. “You make sure that son of mine takes care of you, waits on you hand and foot.”

Race, cuddling Kenzie, looked up at his mother with an insulted look. “Hey! As if I wouldn’t wait on him hand and foot! I take offense to that.”

Laughter sounded around the room as Medda shook her head. “I’m just thankful you, Spot, and Katherine are okay. I checked in with Albert and Finch earlier and they’re doing as well as could be expected. I’m just glad all my babies are okay and here with us tonight.”

Kat looked around the room, locking eyes with each of the people in it, giving them a smile. “I’m glad today is almost done and tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow we start to move on from today and though we'll never forget, we will start to move on.”

Kat and Spot locked eyes. Though they had always been close since college, it seemed their bond had dug a little deeper. And she smiled, there was no one she’d rather have in her corner than Spot Conlon, as he would always have her back, just like she always would have his.

Feedback would be wonderful and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#Life in the ER Newsies #Writing #Spot Conlon #katherine plumber #Albert DaSilva #Racetrack Higgins #Jack Kelly #finch cortez #PA Katherine #Nurse Spot #Nurse Albert

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