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#because i’m the first cousin to move out and buy a house and apparently that’s very cool 😂
neondiamond · 1 year
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phanfictioncatalogue · 11 months
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Outside POV (5) Masterlist
part one, part two, part three, part four
all that kindred eyes can see (ao3) - natigail
Summary: Teachers Dan and Phil figure that they could quite easily keep their relationship secret while working at the same school. It's only for half a year after all. But the keen eyes of a trio of friends soon start to pick up on little hints and clues. It's a good thing the students mostly just want to admire their love and figure themselves out along the way.
Always Together, Never Apart (ao3) - cherryblossomphil
Summary: “They were attached at the hip. The centers of each other’s lives. Inseparable.”; Dan and Phil’s relationship, as seen through the eyes of their friends (based on Vidcon 2k15)
House Hunters (ao3) - citizen101erased
Summary: Kath and Nigel go down to London to help Phil and Dan find a house to buy.
Immediate Family (ao3) - philsroots (shanegray)
Summary: “The first few times I didn’t mind all that much, but now it’s all the time and I’m starting to dread starting conversations.” Cornelia says, almost laughing.
Dan peels at the corner of the crisp bag, creating a small tear before slowly pulling it apart.
“It’s really that constant?”
or the one where Dan really wants a metaphorical picket fence and I write a love letter to being the gay cousin in a huge traditional family
Merry and Bright (ao3) - ahappyphil
Summary: Dan and Phil host their first Christmas.
now i smile and face the girl who shares my name (ao3) - plinth_of_life
Summary: kath meets her newborn granddaughter.
Oh Brother (ao3) - ahappyphil
Summary: Phil comes home from the Halloween gathering, and Martyn has questions
shadows / nocturne / parting clouds (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Phil wakes up with a migraine, causing him to snap at Dan. Throughout the day, while visiting a city for the ii tour, Cornelia observes the tension, and eventually, the two of them console.
since i looked up to you (ao3) - morelikeexisting
Summary: I've been meaning to tell you something, but never had the courage to — it reads — basically, i am gay.
And Adrian thinks: this is how he is going to come out? Through a fucking e-mail, and then he laughs, happy and proud and overwhelmed, because confrontation has always been Dan's weakness and this ... this e-mail is so, so Dan.
( or the one where dan comes out to his brother )
slipping through my fingers (ao3) - Gal_tic
Summary: Even though he said he’d never grow up, Phil grew up.
Or, Kath reminisces on how time flies
sometime, stranger (ao3) - dieofthatroar
Summary: Karen's thoughts on a little boy she thought she knew
the bear (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp
Summary: Seven year old Phil has an imaginary friend, and his mother is concerned.
The Fantastic Mr. Whiskers (ao3) - chiridotalaevis
Summary: Mr. Whiskers does not approve of guests. But this human? This human was ok. This human could stay.
The Royal Mr. Whiskers (ao3) - chiridotalaevis
Summary: Mr. Whiskers just could not understand why they had to move to a new apartment. This apartment was perfect! It had the couch Mr. Whiskers liked, the little nook above the fridge from where Mr. Whiskers could keep watch, a nice warm bed for him. All the smells were accounted for, all the walls sufficiently improved by Mr. Whisker’s claws. But no, apparently with Phil moving in, his humans didn’t have enough space anymore.
the conversation (ao3) - calvinahobbes
Summary: "They had a joke in there. About a sex tape with him and Dan." A fic about Phil's parents and That Conversation.
they grew up so nicely, didn't they? (ao3) - natigail
Summary: Cornelia doesn’t just get a boyfriend when she starts dating Martyn, she gets a whole second family too. Kath and Nigel welcome her with open arms and she becomes a pseudo older sister to Phil.
She is there watching from the sidelines as a boy bolts right into Phil’s heart and sets up camp. She gets to watch as Dan and Phil build careers and an internet community and all the trials and tribulations, as well as the pride and happiness, it brings along.
through the years, we all will be together (ao3) - possumdnp
Summary: Martyn comes home for Christmas in 2009 and finally meets Dan, that guy his brother won’t shut up about. Ten years later, and it’s like Dan’s always been a part of the family.
Two of Martyn’s family Christmas celebrations, a decade apart.
to use black ink (ao3) - moonythejedi395
Summary: Laura Anise Jones, at the ripe old age of 12 ½, knew exactly four things in life. The first was that she would never touch illicit drugs. The second was that it was best not to tell anyone anything about herself, as nothing good would ever come of it. The third was that adults will always lie. The fourth is that the only exception to the previous rule is her English teacher, Mr. Lester.
together: a tale in five board games (ao3) - dieofthatroar
Summary: Dan in his BBC LGBT interview: "I had friends who honestly would be like, 'so, are you going to get a girlfriend at some point?' and I was like, 'so you have no idea, even though we've been friends for five years.'"
Dan and Phil have this friend that comes over for monthly board game night.
watching terrariums (ao3) - obsessivelymoody
Summary: They’re silhouetted against the gloomy grey London sky, light only touching the high points of their faces, illuminating their eyes. They look carved from marble, and by someone who is really able to capture love.
Or, Dan and Phil in 2019, told through two perspectives at two different times.
where we can live (ao3) - dizzy
Summary: Karen and Kathryn wait for their sons.
"Why did we have to have kids?" (ao3) - yikesola
Summary: Cornelia is recording on her phone, hoping she’ll never forget this sight. It’s so beautiful, more beautiful than she can say. So expansive, so lush— so peaceful… peaceful…
A ficlet about peacefulness and laughter.
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It’s the Thought that Counts
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Birthday Oneshot
All Rowan wants to do is throw a surprise party for his girlfriend, but that becomes increasingly difficult as every possible thing that could go wrong—goes wrong.
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I wrote this for my birthday on the fifth, but I couldn't wait until then to post it, Enjoy!
Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language, Light NSFW
4476 words
*******
“Are you serious?”
If Rowan’s hair wasn’t already silver, it would’ve been by the end of the day from all the stress this was putting him through.
Looking into the open cake box in Fenrys’ hands, he just stared at the inscription atop what was supposed to be a birthday cake for Aelin.
“What? What’s wrong?” Fenrys tried to lean over the lid of the box but it was tall enough to block his view.
“Did you even look at it before you left the store? Before you paid for it?” It took all of Rowan’s self-control not to scream. How many more things could go wrong today?
Fenrys shifted uneasily, noticing Rowan’s slipping control. “Uh, no. I was already running late, and you said to get back here as soon as possible to help finish setting up.”
All Rowan could do was let out a long, slow breath.
“This. Says. Alien.”
The blonde man holding the cake snorted, “what?”
“The cake says ‘Happy Birthday, Alien’”
“Seriously?” Fenrys was quick to put the box down on a nearby table so he could stand next to Rowan and look at it. “Shit. They even put little green Martians on it.”
All Rowan wanted to do was throw a surprise party for his girlfriend.
Was that really too much to ask? Apparently, so.
A couple of months ago Aelin had mentioned how she’d always wanted a surprise party, but of course, you cant ask for a surprise party because then it’s no longer a surprise.
Rowan took the hint and decided to plan something special for her birthday. He even got all their friends to help, and if everything had gone to plan then it would have been a perfect day.
Too bad he couldn’t catch a break.
Rowan had made a list of everything they needed to do, buy, and plan. It was an extensive list because he knew that a party for Aelin had to be perfect. Not because she had impossibly high standards—well, she did, but that wasn’t why it had to be perfect—it was because he loved her and wanted to show her how much he appreciated her on her birthday.
And he thought it would be the icing on the cake—pun intended—to have all their friends involved too. That’s why he was making calls to all of them about what they each needed to do for the party.
First, he got Lorcan and Elide to pick up the golden balloon arch that was going to be at the entrance of the park he’d reserved for the day. By the time he got on the phone with Lorcan, Rowan was already exasperated from having to deal with the city planning office in order to reserve the particular park and gazebo.
“Lorcan, I need you in charge of the—” Rowan broke off, hearing a loud crackling from the other end of the phone.
“You’re cutting off, wha— you say?” Lorcan’s voice was halting as the call cut in-and-out
“I was saying, I need you to cover the balloons.”
“Ba—”
“The balloon canopy.”
“The bo—, ca—”
“Yeah, we need a golden balloon canopy.”
“Okay, fine. I— got the— boun— ca—”
“Shit. Can you hear me?” Rowan pulled his phone away to check his service. It was fine from his end, it must be Lorcan’s phone being spotty.
When Rowan put the phone back to his ear, he could hear rustling and the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then the connection cleared.
“Yeah, man. I heard you. But, are you sure Aelin wants that?” Lorcan sounded skeptical.
“What? Yeah, of course, it’ll be great.” Rowan was already getting impatient, knowing he had a few more errands to run before he could relax.
“Whatever. She’s your girlfriend, and it’s your credit card.”
Rolling his eyes, Rowan muttered, “Thank you for your generous help, Lorcan.” then heard someone scolding Lorcan and grinned before saying loud enough for the other person to hear, “Thank you, Elide!”
Rowan hung up and mentally checked off the balloons. What was next?
***
“Aedion, please, I need you to keep Aelin busy for the day.”
Aedion and Lysandra had come over to Rowan and Aelin’s apartment for dinner, and Rowan had dragged Aedion into the kitchen to talk about that weekend’s plan.
Taking a sip of his beer, Aedion raised an eyebrow at him, “Won’t she wonder why her boyfriend is avoiding her on her birthday?”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “I won’t be avoiding her. You will very adamantly request to take your cousin to lunch for her birthday, and who am I to get in the way of family?”
Aedion snorted but nodded. “Yeah, okay. Lys and I can take her out.”
“No, Lys can’t be there.”
“What?” Aedion looked at him bewildered. “Why not?”
Rowan sighed. “Because if Lysandra is there with you, then Aelin will wonder why I’m not there with her. If it’s just you and Aelin, then she won’t think it’s weird that I’m gone. Besides,” Rowan took another sip of beer, “I’ll need Lys’ help during the day to set up that slideshow.”
“Right.”
The slideshow Rowan had asked Aedion and Lysandra to make using pictures of Aelin that would play during the party. The one that Aedion wasn’t going to tell Rowan hadn’t been started yet. “Yeah, okay. I’ll invite Aelin to come get lunch with me.”
“Perfect.”
One more thing off Rowan’s list.
***
The morning of the party Rowan asked Fenrys to go pick up Aelin’s cake. It was supposed to be a chocolate and hazelnut cake with the top decorated with kingsflame blossoms and say, “Happy Birthday Aelin.”
Rowan was distracted with setting up decorations and directing their friends to put away the things they brought. Dorian and Manon were in charge of getting the alcohol. Chaol and Yrene were bringing deserts because when it came to Aelin there could never be enough sweets. Fenrys helped Rowan bring out the rest of the food, before being sent off to pick up the cake.
Rowan did a quick scan, mentally checking off everyone. Besides the people he could see, he knew Lysandra was in the gazebo finishing up the slideshow, Aedion was out distracting Aelin, and Elide and Lorcan would be here any minute with the balloons.
Letting out a breath, Rowan smiled. Things seemed to be coming together.
Busy showing Dorian where the coolers for the drinks were, he was too distracted to do more than wave a ‘hello’ to Lorcan and Elide as Lorcan’s truck pulled up to the park. Rowan decided they were smart enough to figure out how to set up a balloon arch—or at least Elide could read the directions to a grumbling Lorcan, so Rowan spent the next half hour with other parts of the setup.
After he finished hanging up the screen they were going to use for the picture slideshow, Rowan went to check on the balloons.
He made it two steps out of the large gazebo and stopped in his tracks.
“What the fuck is this?” Rowan exclaimed, gaping at the large monstrosity in front of him.
Instead of looking at a beautiful, arched balloon canopy, he was looking at a massive, inflatable, child’s bouncy castle.
“What do you mean ‘what the fuck is this?’” Lorcan asked, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead and stepping around the side of the castle. “This is what you asked for.”
“This is not what I asked for.” Rowan could feel his mouth still hanging open and quickly shut it.
Elide looked at Rowan in confusion. “Rowan, you did ask for this. I mean, I definitely thought it was weird that Aelin would want a blow-up bounce house for her birthday, but when Lor asked if you were sure, you insisted it was right.”
Rowan tried to remember that particular conversation. He had so many details in his head and too many people in charge of different things.
“Shit.” The phone call was coming back to Rowan to now. “We kept getting cut off. Shit,” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair making it all stand up on end. He swung around towards Lorcan who looked at him with raised brows. “What did you think I was asking you to get?”
Lorcan slowly looked between the bouncy house and Rowan. “You asked me to get a Bounce Castle.”
For fucks sake.
“I asked you to get a Balloon Canopy.”
Elide’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ and Lorcan said nothing until a moment later he was laughing, bent over at the waist.
“You wanted balloons, and now Galathynius has a bounce castle.” He managed between breaths, ignoring Rowan’s fuming look. It took Elide elbowing him in the side to get him to stop laughing.
“I don’t have time for this. Fix this.” Rowan waved his arms around at the massive blow-up castle, and then he turned around to find something he could actually focus on, trying his best to ignore the increasingly greying clouds in the sky.
“You still paying?” Lorcan called after him.
He let out a string of curses. “Yes.”
Rowan just barely heard the sound of air being let out of the castle as he walked away.
***
A shriek drew Rowan’s attention away from the chairs he was unfolding. He turned towards the gazebo to see Lysandra throw a small ice bucket, mostly filled with water at this point, at the screen Rowan had set up earlier.
The screen that was on fire.
Running in to help, Rowan saw that the candles placed around it had been lit—why the hell would someone already light them? The wind must’ve blown the screen too close causing it to catch fire.
He reached Lysandra just as she threw another bucket of icy water on the screen, dousing the rest of the flames.
“Are you okay?” He looked over Lysandra, but she just seemed shocked and irritated.
“I’m fine.” She gave him a reassuring nod before scowling at the destroyed screen. “This, though, is pretty much dead.” she sighed and closed her laptop she was using to work on the slideshow. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be showing pictures today, Rowan.”
He rubbed at his face. Fine. Okay. He could deal with this. They had a children’s bounce house and no slideshow. That was fine. As long as nothing else went wrong, he could deal with it.
As if in response to his thought, the day began to dim as clouds moved to cover the sun. If Rowan didn’t look at the heavy clouds, they would disappear.
That was when Fenrys came back with the cake.
***
“Alien?! I can’t give my girlfriend a birthday cake that’s calling her an Alien!”
Fenrys almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous Rowan looked with his hair sticking up and face all red, but he knew this was just the latest in a list of ‘things gone wrong’ and was worried that if he laughed then he wouldn’t live to see the birthday girl.
“Maybe she’ll find it funny,” Fenrys suggested.
Rowan slowly turned toward him with an almost crazed look in his eye. “Funny? You think Aelin will find all this,” he waved his hands at the deflating bounce house, charred hanging screen, and the horribly incorrect cake, “Funny?”
“...Maybe?” Honestly, Fenrys thought Aelin would find it all hilarious but decided to keep his mouth shut. He knew how much work and energy Rowan put into this party, and he worried for his friend’s mental state as he counted all the things that had already gone wrong.
Rowan just dropped his head in his hands and groaned.
***
As soon as Rowan unpacked the last of the food, he heard a boom of thunder.
“This is not happening.” He muttered to himself, refusing to look at what was surely the worst thing that could happen that day.
A moment later he heard the unmistakable sound of hard, fast rain. The yelps from his friends broke him out of his haze and he turned to see everyone rush into the covered gazebo, careful to keep close to the center where they could stay dry.
Everyone besides Yrene, who had been helping Rowan with the food, were varying levels of soaked. And all the decorations they’d been holding were either stuck outside taking the worst of the rain or dragged inside to drip water onto the floor.
Rowan didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the beer bottle out of Aedion’s hand and took a long swig.
***
Looking around, Rowan surveyed the damage. Where a nice balloon canopy should’ve been positioned, a large, deflated, child’s bounce castle stood in its place; the screen he was going to use to show a slideshow of Aelin was burnt to a crisp; the rain pouring down was soaking the park and wrecking everything brought in from the cars, and the perfect cake for his girlfriend was ruined by calling her Alien.
But at least all their friends showed up.
That was the one good thing to come out of this disaster of a party. Even if they were all dripping wet and shivering from their walks from their cars to the covered gazebo in the middle of the park.
Dorian walked up to where Rowan and Aedion were talking about the cousin’s lunch. He took a sip of his drink and asked them, “So, what time is Aelin is getting here?”
Rowan and Aedion both turned towards each other.
“What time did you—”
“When did you say—”
They both froze.
Rowan slowly blinked. “Aedion, you did tell Aelin what time to come tonight, right?”
Aedion shook his head, wincing, “No, man. I was taking her out to lunch. You were supposed to find a reason to get her to the park.”
A dull roaring started in Rowan’s head. He thought over everything he had on his list.
Rent out gazebo: Check.
Delegate decorations: unsuccessful, but Check.
Order cake: again, unsuccessful, but Check.
Get friends to show up: Check.
Buy Aelin’s present: Check
Invite Aelin…
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck me. No, no, no, no, no… Gods damn it!”
Before anyone could another word, Rowan pulled his keys from his pocket and sprinted into the rain towards his car.
***
Aelin loved her birthday.
Usually.
She loved celebrating with her friends and laughing about the stupid gag gift they bought her. She loved making a wish on her candles and she even loved the awkward minute of listening to people sing happy birthday.
Last year, Rowan had woken her up to a particularly amazing round of birthday sex. Which turned into another round in the kitchen and then another one in the shower. He had also spent the day last year doing her favorite things and ending the night with a wonderful dinner at her favorite restaurant.
Which was why she had been so excited to see what this birthday would bring.
Her morning began exactly how she hoped: with Rowan’s tongue between her legs. He’d woken her up slowly, lazily, until she was squirming on the sheets with her hand fisted in his hair.
She’d hoped their morning tumble was the start of a very satisfying day, but soon afterward Rowan left saying he had to make a work call and she should get ready for her lunch with Aedion.
As much as she loved her cousin, all Aelin really wanted to do was stay inside with Rowan all day, clothing-optional. Actually, clothing-nonexistent.
But she did want to see Aedion, and apparently, Rowan’s work call was pressing enough that he practically ran out the door.
Lunch was nice. She hadn’t had one-on-one time with Aedion in a while, but she couldn’t help but notice how antsy he seemed.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked him after the waiter took their set down their drinks.
Her cousin choked on the sip he’d taken, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?” He sputtered. “I’m not not telling you anything.”
“Uh huh.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing Ae, don’t sweat it.”
“It looks like you’re the one sweating Aedion.” Leaning back in her chair she smirked and crossed her arms. “Did you get me something you’re worried I won’t like?” she joked.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, exactly! Lysandra picked it out but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
Aelin rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Please, if Lys picked out whatever it is, then I’m sure I’ll love it.” Her smirk turned into a genuine smile. “But, it’s from you so I know I’ll like it.”
He laughed but she thought he still looked a bit anxious. Deciding not to worry about whatever else had him fidgety, she let it go.
When she got back to her and Rowan’s apartment, she expected he would be there. He wasn’t.
Aelin didn’t think a work call would take the two hours she’d been out with Aedion, so she hoped Rowan would be back soon. She hadn’t talked about plans today because last year he had been so eager to take the lead.
So she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Three hours later she was irate, hurt, and confused. How could he just up and disappear on her birthday? If he was busy—if something came up that he needed to deal with—he should’ve just told her. She still would be upset, but she’d have understood.
But he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t called or texted. Rowan hadn’t given her any explanation as to why she was alone now on her birthday.
Aelin walked into the kitchen and was about to pour herself a glass of wine when she heard loud noises from the hall outside her apartment door. It sounded like heavy, stampeding footsteps.
And then Rowan was bursting into their apartment.
He was breathing heavily, soaking wet, and looking at her with such an apologetic expression that she momentarily forgot why she was angry.
“Aelin,” he panted, trying to get a breath, “I am so sorry.”
Right. That was why she was angry.
She crossed her arms over her chest and took in his disheveled appearance, trying desperately to understand why he was so out of sorts.
“What happened to you?”
Rowan loosed a long, heavy breath and stepped closer to her. “Aelin, gods, I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are.” She agreed. “But, explain to me why.”
Rowan took another step towards her and she let him.
“I had a whole thing planned— I still do, kind of, but it’s basically ruined at this point—” Rowan started talking faster and Aelin struggled to keep up. “I planned an amazing surprise party for you, I spent weeks getting things organized. I had all our friends come out to help, they’re all still out at the park—I rented out the park—they’d better all still be there, anyway.”
He took a breath and Aelin’s anger slowly started to fade, but then she remembered sitting alone in her apartment for three hours and stared at him until he continued his explanation.
“There were supposed to be balloons, golden ones! And photos of you, and a cake, but all of it got ruined.” Rowan ran an angry hand through his hair. “Lorcan thought I asked him for a bounce castle— a bounce castle! Then the screen caught on fire, and then there was a mess up with the cake that you don’t even want to know about.”
He finally looked back at her, pleadingly, hoping she could understand how sorry he was. “But the worst part, which was one-hundred-percent my fault, was that I forgot to invite you to your own party.”
Aelin was wide-eyed by the end of his speech. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Rowan grabbed her hand and looked down at her with sorry eyes. “Please, forgive me.”
“Forgive you?”
His face crumpled and he leaned to press it into her shoulder. She heard him grumble, “Fuck. I ruined your birthday, I’m so sorry.”
Aelin pulled away to hold his face between her hands. She waited until his eyes opened to say, “Rowan, you planned that whole thing? For me?”
His brow furrowed as if he couldn’t understand why she would ask that. “Of course, I did. I know how much you wanted a surprise party, but—”
“But nothing.” She cut him off pressing her mouth firmly against his. Rowan was too surprised at her reaction to reciprocate, but she pulled back just as fast.
“Okay, yes, not inviting me to my own party was a bad move,” He winced. “But, everything else you did was amazing.” When he still looked skeptically at her she continued, “the rest of that stuff; the weather, the cake, the fire, Lorcan’s bad judgment—none of that was your fault.”
Rowan finally cracked a smile at the last bit.
“So,” he searched her face for any clues, “you’re not upset?”
Aelin laughed at pulled Rowan down for another kiss. This time, he eagerly returned it and wrapped one arm around her waist and the other moved so his hand could hold the back of her head. They stood wrapped up in each other for a minute, deepening the kiss before they both pulled back for air.
“I’m not mad. I was, before when I thought you’d ditched me on my birthday. But I’m not anymore now that I know you spent the day trying to make me happy."
Aelin pulled back further to give him a stern look. “But I will be angry if you don’t bring me to this party right now.”
He pulled her back into him and let out a relieved laugh.
“Let’s get the birthday girl to her party.”
***
The drive from their apartment to the park was filled with Rowan telling Aelin about everything that had gone wrong. His fingers intertwined with her over the middle console and she listened as he told her about the crazy day.
“Why someone would light the candles so early in the day is beyond me.” He grumbled and Aelin chuckled at the bitterness in his tone.
“I’m sure the slideshow would’ve been great.” She perked up. “Oh my gods, that was why Aedion was so weird at lunch.”
Rowan glanced side longed at her. “He was weird?”
“Yeah, real fidgety, wouldn’t always look me in the eye. He said it was because he was worried I wouldn’t like my present, but I knew that was a load of bullshit.” She laughed, remembering how relived his face had been when she offered that excuse.
Rowan rolled his eyes but watched as the sky began to clear.
“Good, the rains finally stopping. I told the others to finish putting up decorations if the weather cleared.”
“There’s more?” Aelin questioned, thinking of everything he’d already told her about.
“A bit. I gave Fen a list of stuff to buy, but knowing him, he picked up some things that I didn’t tell him to. So, who knows what we’ll see when we get there.” He groaned thinking about it, but Aelin just laughed.
“It’s a couple of decorations, Ro. I’m sure they’ve got it handled.”
When they finally pulled into the parking lot nearest the gazebo, Aelin and Rowan didn’t get out of the cart immediately. They watched the scene in front of them in bewilderment
Lorcan was throwing a rope over a tree branch—Aelin assumed it was because he was the tallest—tying one end to the trunk and the other end was attached to a large pinata.
“Is that…?” She was so confused about what was happening.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Fen?” Rowan seethed.
“Fen did that? Why would Fenrys buy an Alien pinata?” Aelin suddenly had more questions than answers.
Rowan rubbed his hands down his face, muffling his curses.
“Don’t ask.”
Aelin watched as Aedion picked up the stick and took a couple of practice swings.
“What? They’re gonna start without us?” Aelin pulled Rowan’s hand off his face and made him look at her. “Hey. I know this didn’t go like you’d planned, but it's still pretty great, and everyone is here and having a good time. And there’s cake, right?”
“There’s cake.”
Rowan refrained from reminding her that all the guests had trekked in and out of the rain that afternoon setting up and half the supplies were ruined or nonexistent. Apparently, she could see all that in his face though so Aelin leaned over and kissed him.
“Let’s go, come on.”
At some point during their conversation, Lysandra had found the blindfold and tied it around Aedion’s head. The rest of the group, minus Manon and Dorian who had snuck off somewhere she didn’t want to think about too much, stood around as Fenrys cheered and Aedion swung.
He missed the first time, but as he prepped himself to swing again, Aelin and Rowan climbed out of the car and walked toward the group.
“Aelin!” Fenrys called, eyes going wide as he called her name.
Everyone else whipped around to face her and Rowan and yell “Surprise!”
Unfortunately, Aedion still had a stick in his hands; and he quickly turned, it nailed Fenrys in the head.
Rowan stood there gaping as Fenrys let out a loud sound between a yelp and a groan, before falling to the ground, knocked out.
“Shit! Who’d I hit?” Aedion asked as he ripped off the blindfold, and tuned to see what—or, who—exactly he had swung at.
Mostly in shock, a little bit in amusement, everyone watched as Fenrys slowly groaned, lifted his head only to wince and bring his hand up to hold it, and opened his eyes.
“…Surprise”
***
“You know, this may be my most memorable birthday.” Aelin was perched on Rowan’s lap, eating a piece of the outer space-themed cake.
Her boyfriend groaned and pressed his face into her shoulder.
“I’ll take it. Memorable is better than disastrous.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
After Fenrys woke up, Yrene came over to check on him and make sure he was going to be alright. She didn’t think he had a concussion, but she put Aedion in charge of watching him. His punishment, apparently. They were currently at another table with Lysandra, Lorcan, and Elide.
Aelin looked over to the other end of the gazebo and watched as Chaol and Yrene sat with Dorian and Manon, the latter was trying her best to pretend she was interested in the conversation. By the heated looks she and Dorian were giving each other, Aelin didn’t think those two would be sticking around too long.
Turning back to Rowan, Aelin smiled.
“Thank you, Buzzard. I love it.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes, but he tightened his grip on her and pulled her face down to his.
“Happy Birthday, Fireheart.”
*****
Taglist:
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titan-fodder · 3 years
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Prima Vista Part VIII
[ previous ]
Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k
Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 
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Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?
 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 
 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”
 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 
 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.
 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”
 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.
 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”
 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…
 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”
 “Why was I—”
 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”
 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 
 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.
 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 
 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 
 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 
 *
 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 
 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 
 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 
 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."
 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 
 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 
 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 
 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 
 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 
 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.
 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 
 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 
 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.
 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 
 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 
 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 
 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 
 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 
 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 
 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 
 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 
 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 
 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 
 *
 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."
 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."
 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 
 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."
 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 
 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."
 "Who's going?"
 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"
 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 
 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."
 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"
 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."
 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."
 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 
 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."
 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 
 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—
 Mike ends up going. 
 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 
 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."
 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 
 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."
 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 
 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."
 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 
 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 
 "Man, fuck off."
 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 
 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 
 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."
 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."
 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 
 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 
 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 
 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 
 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.
 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 
 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 
 Good. 
 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 
 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 
 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 
 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—
 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 
 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."
 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 
 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 
 "You know what."
 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 
 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 
 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 
 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 
 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 
 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 
 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 
 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 
 Not together his ass. 
 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 
 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 
 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 
 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 
 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.
 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.
 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”
* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers
 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.
 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 
 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 
 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”
 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."
 "Literally what did I just say?" 
 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."
 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."
 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"
 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."
 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."
 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."
 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."
 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."
 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"
 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."
 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 
 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 
 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."
 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."
 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."
 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."
 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.
 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 
 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."
 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.
 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 
 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 
 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 
 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 
 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 
 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 
 "About eleven thirty."
 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—
 But nothing. 
 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?
 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 
 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 
 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 
 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"
 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."
 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 
 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."
 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 
 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."
 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"
 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 
 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 
 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 
 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."
 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 
 "That's not what I meant."
 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."
 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 
 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 
 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."
 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."
 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 
 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 
 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 
 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 
 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 
 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."
 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 
 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 
 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."
 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 
 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 
 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."
 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.
 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 
 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 
 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 
 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 
 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 
 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 
 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 
 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…
 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 
 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—
 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 
 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 
 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."
 "See what?" 
 "You and me—"
 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 
 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."
 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."
 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."
 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."
 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 
 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 
 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."
 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."
 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 
 "You caaare about meee."
 He scoffs and looks away
 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."
 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."
 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 
 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 
 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."
 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 
 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."
 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."
 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 
 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"
 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."
 "Wow, fuck you."
 "That's the idea," he smirks. 
 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."
 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 
 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."
 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."
 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 
 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 
 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."
 "Sounds like a challenge to me."
 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."
 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 
 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 
 "Stop making that face."
 "What face?" 
 "That—that—"
 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 
 "What face, hm?" 
 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 
 Damn. He's good at this. 
 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 
 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 
 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 
 Maddening. He's maddening. 
 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 
 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 
 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.
 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."
 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 
 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 
 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 
 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 
 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.
 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.
 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.
 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.
 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”
 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”
 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 
 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 
 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.
 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”
 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 
 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 
 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 
 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 
 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”
 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”
 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.
 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”
 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—
 That’s not important. 
 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.
 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”
 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 
 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 
 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”
 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 
 “Want me to wear a condom?”
 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”
 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”
 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 
 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”
 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 
 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.
 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 
 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 
 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 
 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 
 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”
 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”
 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 
 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.
 “Shit, shit, shit—”
 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 
 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 
 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 
 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.
 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 
 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 
 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…
 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”
 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 
 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 
 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 
 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—
 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 
 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—
 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—
 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 
 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 
 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 
 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”
 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 
 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”
 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”
 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”
 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 
 “Fuck—shit—”
 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.
 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.
 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 
 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.
 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”
 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 
 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.
 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.
 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 
 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.
 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 
 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 
 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 
 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.
 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.
 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”
 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 
 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”
 “Yeah, probably not.”
 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”
 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 
 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 
 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.
* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.
 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 
 “M-Mike?”
 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.
 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 
 “Are you drunk again?”
 “No. Little buzzed.”
 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?
 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."
 "What?" 
 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 
 "Mike?"
 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."
 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 
 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 
 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 
 “Why have you been lying to me?”
 And, there’s that drop. 
 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”
 “Bullshit.”
 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 
 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 
 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.
 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…
 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?
 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”
 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 
 “I… I’m sorry.”
 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 
 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 
 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 
 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.
 “Why does it matter?”
 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”
 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”
 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 
 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”
 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”
 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.
 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  
 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.
 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 
 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”
 “Mike…”
 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”
 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”
 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”
 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 
 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 
 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 
 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”
 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”
 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”
 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 
 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”
 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”
 “That I’m not good enough.”
 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.
 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”
 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”
 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 
 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.
 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 
 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 
 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.
 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—
 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”
 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 
 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”
 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 
 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”
 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 
 “I won’t bother you.”
 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 
 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 
 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.
 *
 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.
 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.
 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 
 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 
 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 
 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 
 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.
 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.
 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 
 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 
 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 
 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 
 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 
 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 
 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 
 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 
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The undatables as uncles need more love, so... What if L!MC and the rest of the children just go to the castle or purgatory Hall for a few days because the Bros got tired or just need a day of rest. Idk this makes no sense
Yes, more uncle shennaniganery!
A Day at the Demon Lord’s Castle
Masterlist
It was Demon-Flu season, and no demon in the House of Lamentation was spared from its sniffly wrath. It started with Belphegor waking up and sneezing right next to Beel, and it was all downhill from there.
Notice how I said “demon”, the dear little Half-Demons were all fine thanks to the efforts of M!MC who for some reason had bought a bunch of plague doctor masks the week prior.
“Why... why did you buy these?” L!MC asked, their voice muffled by the badly fitting mask.
“I saw em’ in a store window and I decided I wanted them.”
Three out of four of the Brat Brigade (plus the cat) were on their way to the Demon Lord’s castle to stay until the house’s little epidemic passed. Lord Diavolo had oh so graciously asked (begged) to be allowed to host the kids for a while.
What could go wrong?
Many things could go wrong.
For one, the first thing A!MC saw when they first arrived, was a rat. Not one of the gross scary ones, but one of the absolutely adorable ones that turns you into the ‘gently holds’ meme.
“I’m going to call you Templeton!” “*squeak*” “Yay!”
Barbatos of course came to greet the guests, and explained that they have a little... issue with rats at that moment. Butler-dad assured them it wouldn’t be a problem, just if the children saw any of the vermin running around to tell him and he’d dispose of them.
Templeton the rat was promptly hidden in one of A!MC’s pockets.
The Purgatory Hall crew was there as well, apparently Solomon decided to make brunch and Purgatory Hall’s kitchen exploded.
Lord Diavolo finally makes his entrance and declares that everyone should unpack and relax, his gorgeous/terrifying castle was their gorgeous/terrifying castle.
“So,” L!MC rested their head on their hand and rotated the knight in their free hand as they stared half vacantly at the chess board. “Did you take care of the snake in the labyrinth, Dia?”
Diavolo lit up when he heard his seldom used nickname. “Well, Henry 1.0 isn’t exactly bothering anyone down there at the moment, and I don’t think Levi is equipped to deal with a fifty foot long untamed snake.”
L!MC smirked and placed their knight down. “Yeah, at least not right now.”
The moment L!MC removed their hand from the knight, Diavolo moved his bishop and took their queen. Shit.
“Aw man...” L!MC mumbled, after a cursory look at the board, the poor thing realized that they had been screwed for the last five turns and Diavolo was just prolonging the match.
“Don’t feel too bad, L!MC.” Diavolo gave them a pat on the head. “Lucifer can’t beat me in chess either.”
“Hmph.” They wouldn’t admit it but... that did make them feel a little better.
“That reminds me, I have a favour to ask of you.” L!MC almost outwardly drooped at the mention of... ugh... a task. “Do you mind reviewing some dad-jokes with me to make sure they are suitably dad-like?”
“...what?” Quickly remembering they were in the presence of honest to God (poor choice of words... uh... Grandfather?) royalty, L!MC straightened their posture and tried their best to look respectfully curious instead of completely and utterly confused. “Pardon?”
“M!MC and several others have said I have ‘dad vibes’, so I’m leaning into it!” Diavolo smiled so brightly if L!MC hadn’t been the child of the Morning Star they may have been blinded. “My father wasn’t one for jokes, so I’d like to run these by you before I say them to others.”
Suppressing a snort of laughter, L!MC nodded. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”
Diavolo pulled out quite the long list and began to read out loud... L!MC quickly realized that this may take longer than expected. “Okay, to begin: I’m afraid for the calendar, it’s days are numbered.”
“Oh not-that-good-Lord...” L!MC muttered under their breath.
The dad jokes continued, some were funny, some were absolutely awful, some sounded like they were made for children in the Victorian era... overall, it was a good- holy shit that took over two hours...
“Finally,” Diavolo squinted at the last joke. “I went to the liquor store and they asked for my ID, while I fumbled for my wallet, my Blockbuster card fell out, the cashier said ‘nevermind’.”
L!MC furrowed their brows. “What’s a Blockbuster?”
“That was what I was hoping you’d explain to me... is it a dad requirement to get a card for that establishment..?”
“Mmmm...” L!MC pursed their lips. “Probably not. I mean, Lucifer doesn’t have one.”
“That’s true...” Diavolo looked at the clock, then stood up and began to shoo L!MC out the door. “Look at me, taking up all your time that you should be spending with your friends. Thank you for your help, L!MC, now don’t let me keep you any longer!”
Giggling slightly, L!MC shot a wave over their shoulder as they left the room. “Bye dad! See you later!”
They were half way down the hallway when they realized their verbal slip-up.
“Oh.” L!MC’s face burned with embarrassment. “Shit.”
Dad-volo was totally delighted and very cool about it, don’t worry.
M!MC and Bean the cat were hanging out with the angels in the very pretty royal gardens when that mess was going down.
Luke was being absolutely adorable and was snuggling Bean while he and Simeon looked at the pretty plants.
In traditional M!MC fashion, they were engaging in an average game of ‘lightly tease the chihuahua’.
“It’s just... you’re so small.” M!MC took the opportunity to rest their arm on Luke’s head as he stopped to observe a colour changing flower bush. “How many years have you been this height? 100? 200?”
M!MC had taken the news that Luke was older than them in stride, finding new opportunities to make the little angel do his adorable angy face. They were obviously succeeding in their jerkwad-endeavours as Luke pushed their arm off and fixed his now smushed hat.
“You be quiet! I’m perfectly average height for an angel my age.” Luke huffed, petting the cat, who hissed at M!MC. The stupid cat absolutely hated them for some reason, it brought L!MC never ending joy to bring the cat into their shared room and watch it hiss and swipe at them. L!MC should really show some more respect for their older cousin!
“Are angels normally the size of a fifth grader?” M!MC snickered. “Is Simeon considered a freak for his height?”
“No, M!MC, I am not.” Simeon chuckled. “Rest assured, Luke will grow.”
“Yeah! And I’m sure I’ll be taller than you!” Luke added.
M!MC smirked deviously and pinched Luke’s cheek. “Well, I’ll have to take advantage of your smallness and baby face while I still can!”
“Hey! Stop that!” Luke tried to swat their hands away, but M!MC had inherited their father’s reflexes and his penchant for being a little shit every once and a while, so Luke’s swatting only resulted in more pinches.
“Never!” M!MC teased. “Surrender to your smallness!”
“No!”
Luke took off deeper into the garden, surprisingly quickly considering he was holding a cat that was hellbent on clawing M!MC’s eyes out. M!MC laughed and gave chase.
“Luuuuuuuke! Come back! I promise I’ll be nice!” M!MC lied right through their teeth like the little heathen they were, as they ran down the path they noticed that they couldn’t see Luke up ahead anymore, nor could they hear him yelling for Simeon to make them quit their teasing.
“Heheh...” M!MC wheezed as they stopped to catch their breath. “Luke c’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s real immature to hide like that!”
There was no response, which made M!MC just a little nervous, just a smidge. The plants had changed from pretty flowers and gorgeous trees to a much darker clump of vines and twisting branches. It all seemed to be the same plant, M!MC noted as they scanned the area for any sign of Luke and the cat, or Simeon for that matter.
“Luke? Bean? Come on! Haul your asses over here, this isn’t funny any-” M!MC paused and looked down as something coiled around their left leg. “-more?”
The vine tightened and yanked them backwards, M!MC fell right to the ground and clawed at the path to stop them getting pulled into the brush. Another vine wrapped around their right leg, any resistance that digging their nails into the ground was nullified as both vines yanked M!MC into the bushes.
Well, this was a nightmare of epic proportions. The vines continued to wrap around the helpless half demon until they were completely unable to move. As M!MC looked around frantically, they made eye contact with an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. Ah! There was Luke!
“Mmmph!” Only Luke’s eyes were visible, but the eyes are the gateway to the soul or whatever, and M!MC took an educated guess and decided that Luke’s soul wasn’t too happy with them.
“Mmth! Mmth!” M!MC tried to speak, but their mouth was covered by the vines. The two would have to communicate with their eyes only.
‘This is your fault!’
‘How the fuck is this MY fault?’
‘If you hadn’t teased me this never would have happened!’
‘Grow thicker skin, you chihuahua!’
‘Fuck you!’
Listen, Luke probably wasn’t capable of trying to communicate a swear word, but it was incredibly funny for M!MC to think about.
“M!MC? Luke?” Simeon stepped into their limited field of vision. “Where are you two? This plant is carnivorous.”
Oh... lovely. That was good to know.
“Mmemph!”
“MFTH!” Luke and M!MC tried to call out to Simeon, only for the vines to wrap around them even tighter. Wow, what a way to go... strangled by a plant... ugh. L!MC would never let them live that down...
“Hm,” Simeon looked down at the vine that was coiling around his leg. “What a bother.”
Quick as lightning, Simeon grabbed the vine and sent a burst of shining gold magic shooting through it. The magic quickly spread to the rest of the plant and the moment the magic slammed into M!MC they nearly passed out from the searing pain that shot through their entire body.
They clamped their eyes shut and clenched their teeth to stop them from rattling as they felt the massive wave of Celestial magic wash over them. It was weirdly warm, like a hug from a friend, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation, at least not to M!MC.
The plant let out an otherworldly scream as it threw Luke, Bean, and M!MC back onto the path at Simeon’s feet.
Luke picked Bean back up and dusted off his clothes like he didn’t have a care in the world. M!MC lay on the ground, if you listened closely you could hear them sizzle a bit. Nothing like being nearly strangled by a plant and then roasted by holy ‘fuck you’ magic.
“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Simeon pulled Luke into a hug and helped M!MC off the ground. “Did I ah... use to much magic?”
M!MC half-scowled at their saviour and wiped down their outfit. “Yeah. A little too much.”
“My bad,” Simeon ruffled M!MC’s hair. “I hope this serves as a learning experience for you two, Luke, don’t run off like that, and M!MC,”
The half demon nearly jumped in fear and surprise as Simeon swivelled to look at them. The smile on his face was far from comforting. “Don’t tease poor Luke too much, okay?”
“Uh... uh huh.” M!MC quickly nodded.
“Good! Now let’s head back, I think we’ve all had enough of the Royal Gardens.”
As the group returned, they passed a very red in the face L!MC and wondered what exactly went down in the time they were gone.
It’s common knowledge that Barbatos hates rats, it’s also common knowledge that A!MC is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.
What does this lead to, you may be asking, well...
A!MC and their dear rat Templeton needed to hide from the politely homicidal Barbatos.
“Sh!” A!MC whispered into their pocket, the rat responded with an indignant squeak.
The Demon Lord’s Castle was absolutely massive, and trying to navigate it without a map was akin to wandering around an ancient pyramid filled with death traps. A!MC and their dear companion were wandering the place without a map and trying to hide from a butler that had the power to see into the future. The two fugitives were at a clear disadvantage.
A!MC had managed to stumble into an area that had paintings and statues completely everywhere, it was then they realized they were completely lost.
While quietly perusing the room, A!MC took notice of quite the lovely portrait of a woman. She had long flowing locks of golden hair and the most gorgeous captivating eyes... A!MC nearly shrieked when the woman’s eyes snapped to their’s and her face contorted into a scowl.
“Do I know you?” The woman asked, A!MC gulped and shook their head.
“N-no ma’am, I don’t think we’ve met...” A!MC mumbled before sticking out their hand for a handshake. The painting woman stared down at their outstretched hand, very unimpressed. “I’m A!MC, it’s nice to meet you.”
The half demon offered their cutest smile, their dad had lovingly taken the time to coach them in the art of being so darn tootin’ adorable that everyone would fall over themselves to get A!MC to like them. The moment the woman registered the smile, her scowl returned for a brief moment, then vanished entirely.
“Oh,” The woman smiled sweetly. “I do think I know you, do you mind coming a bit closer so I can see you better?”
Suffering from a complete inability to detect red flags, A!MC happily moved closer.
“Ah, just as I suspected. You look like Asmodeus.”
“You know my dad?” A!MC asked.
“Yes,” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know him quite well.”
A!MC was suddenly knocked off balance as a massive gust of wind shoved them closer to the painting. They frantically clawed at the stone ground as Templeton squeaked and squirmed in their pocket.
“Your father is the reason I’m stuck in this painting,” The woman explained coldly as A!MC tried to scramble away. “He escaped the labyrinth twice, but I don’t plan on letting you escape.”
“I-uh- m-muh-my dad’s probably really sorry about whatever he did! There’s no need to be rash!” A!MC stuttered.
“Yeah, no.” The woman huffed. “He had his chance to fix things. I’m getting even.”
“Not right now you’re not.”
A!MC swivelled their head around to see Barbatos calmly holding out a pair of scissors.
“Now Helene, I’d recommend releasing the child before I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Barbatos clicked the scissors together twice, and Helene paled. The wind pushing A!MC towards the painting dissipated and the half demon ran and hid behind the butler.
“Th-thank you...” A!MC mumbled.
“It’s not a problem, A!MC. Now I believe it would be a wise choice to move to another room.”
The two, (plus the hidden rat) ended up in the kitchen. A!MC shifted nervously as Barbatos began prepping lunch.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” Barbatos asked suddenly, A!MC straightened their posture and nodded.
“I um... promise you won’t be mad...” A!MC mumbled.
“I can assure you, I won’t be too upset.”
“I made a friend.” A!MC took Templeton out of their pocket and held him closely to their chest, Barbatos’s calm smile froze on his face. “He’s really sweet, please don’t kill him!”
“...A!MC.” Barbatos began slowly. “I’m not mad... just make sure it doesn’t escape and run rampant... now... please get it out of my kitchen.”
“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” A!MC turned and sprinted to their room.
Ugh... Barbatos, haven’t you ever watched Ratatouille? The rat can cook dammit!
When Luke went in to bake with his second dad he was very confused as to why Barbatos looked like he was having war flashbacks.
Huh... weird right? Anyway...
Good ol’ weird uncle Solomon suggested that after dinner everyone should get together and watch a movie.
L!MC and Solomon suggested that they watch The Conjuring and that idea got immediately shot down.
M!MC brought up that the most “family get-together” movie they could think of was Star Wars.
So they watched A New Hope.
“We could be watching the Conjuring right now.” L!MC murmured as they watched Luke Skywalker fumble his way to Obi Wan Kenobi.
“Yeah.” Solomon whispered back. “You know, I met Ed and Lorraine Warren.”
“Cool,” L!MC smiled. “My ren took me to their house once, when I went in to see all the haunted objects all the demons inside wanted to hang out with me.”
“Huh,” Solomon snickered. “Did they think you were Lucifer?”
“Yep. It was funny, Annabelle’s a pretty big asshole though.”
“I’d be an asshole too if I were stuck in a raggedy Anne doll since the 60s and not allowed to leave.”
“Both of you sh!” M!MC hissed, they threw some popcorn over their shoulder, which L!MC threw right back.
A while into the movie, M!MC elbowed Solomon and pointed at one of the aliens. “That’s you.”
“I’m so hurt…” Solomon pouted.
“And that’s you.” L!MC pointed at a stormtrooper that had just gotten shot with a blaster. M!MC scoffed and rolled their eyes.
“I’m not some dumb stormtrooper.”
“Yeah, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper.”
“HEY!”
“SHHHHHHH!” A!MC and Luke turned and started throwing their own popcorn…
The mess that they all had to vacuum after the movie was much more terrifying than The Conjuring ever could have been.
So, after a few days, Lucifer called to say that everyone was back to normal and the last remnants of the Demon-Flu were gone.
Yay! The kids could go back to their really overcrowded house!
The goodbyes were something to behold.
“Goodbye everyone! Come back sometime soon!” Diavolo waved from the doorway.
“Bye, Lord Diavolo!” L!MC smiled brightly and returned the wave. M!MC snickered and nudged them.
“That’s a pretty cold way to say goodbye to your dad-”
“Shut up…” L!MC growled.
“L!MC, what are they talking about?” Lucifer asked.
“Nothing!”
M!MC looked like they were weighing the pros and cons of surviving the conversation, then shrugged.
“M!MC, no, you have so much to live for!” A!MC pleaded.
“L!MC called Lord Diavolo dad!”
Mammon erupted into hysterical laughter while Asmo giggled and half heartedly patted L!MC on the head. Lucifer was not impressed.
“You know,” L!MC sighed. “I’m moving out. Lord Diavolo can I come live here?”
“L!MC, come back.” Lucifer trailed after his very embarrassed spawn.
A!MC pulled on their dad’s sleeve and cleared their throat.
“Yes sweetie?”
“D-dad, do you have a vehement hatred and or fear of rats?”
“Um-”
“Meet Templeton, he’s adorable and my friend.”
————————
Author’s note, The next part of the main series is coming next week… or this week… idk how long things take.
(Probably this week)
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anika-ann · 3 years
Text
Maybe (Honey)
Type: College AU, student!reader, civilian!Steve
Pairing: Andy Barber x reader (temp), Steve Rogers x reader (estab)
Word count: 6600 (here we go again)
Summary:
You and your boyfriend Steve love each other; but money’s tight. You found an unorthodox solution and decide to go through with it. Without Steve’s knowledge.   
Enter a very specific agency and Andy Barber.
A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing, but this fic is meant for donutloverxo’s sugary challenge.
Also, this work of fiction is not meant to judge anyone. I repeat – it is not meant to judge anyone or imply that SD-SB relationships or using your body as a tool is absolutely inacceptable. We respect people’s choices here.
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Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, dub-con, morally grey, mention of cheating, cheating, praise kink, masturbation, bit of cumplay, angst, onset of a panic attack, heavy self-depreciation, eh… ooc Andy(?), rather negative (and totally inaccurate) description of SD agencies and relationships
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Your index finger hovered over the button, teeth sinking into your lower lip with anxiety.
This is a terrible idea.
To be fair, Nat, your bestie for better and for worse, agreed. Then again, she had also been the one to suggest you went for it and was chilling in the nearby bed while you filled out the form, knowing what you were doing and not stopping you, so… you guessed it couldn’t be that bad of an idea.
Saying yes to this question however, probably was.
Sexual intercourse (PIV): Yes – Maybe – No
Considering you had a boyfriend, the answer should be straightforward NO.
Then again, Steve was a great part of the reason why you were signing up for this stupid app in the first place.
Ever since the wonderful birthday dinner at your family’s house, you were… not necessarily struggling with finances, but knowing you had three last months before your father cut you off his support made you already save money for the rainier days. It sucked, likely because you were maybe trying too hard. But your dad said you were a big girl now. And as the good father he was, he promised to send you the usual payment for three more months, because such a sudden change to your budget would be brutal.
Especially since you and Steve moved in together a month before that. Steve was finishing his PhD. at the university and you, being a student with only part-time job yourself, weren’t exactly great contributor to your budget.
It wasn’t that you father had been showering you with enough money to lead life in luxury, but it had been enough to get by okay. Now, you and Steve were trying to save for food – which was a horrible idea considering his body built –, for take-away coffee, wearing clothes that had seen better days just so you didn’t have to buy new ones and--- you hated seeing Steve like that. The food part was the worst, the most visible.
The night you learned about your father cutting you off, you took it as a champ, accepting it as a fact and continuing the conversation as if nothing significant happened. Later that night, Steve held you close to comfort you, assuring you it changed nothing about your relationship and that you were his everything. That night you made a silly suggestion.
“…you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth--- well, technically-“
At that time, Steve’s answer was a very harsh no, and you apologized for talking stupid. Two months later, here you were.
Secretly filling out a form for a sugar daddy agency.
Natasha helped you pick, claiming this one was extremely discreet, as she knew from her cousin who had been using it for almost two years and apparently said she didn’t have a reason to complain once. In addition, there was no pressure on signing a contract until the fifth meeting and yet, the men committed themselves to paying certain sum of money for the meetings slash dates alone. No strings attached for you. Kinda.
So. It seemed you were about to become a sugar baby. Not for long; just enough to make some savings, an emergency stash so to speak. You didn’t want to fall down the hole and stay for two years like Yelena – you believed the money would be addictive. And which would be worse, Steve would find out.
Steve could never ever find out. It felt like you were cheating on him already.
You wouldn’t cheat on Steve. Ever. You loved him with all your heart and soul and he was the kindest man you had ever met. Incidentally, he was also the hottest one, smartest one and sweetest one and the second funniest one; in that aspect, he came close after Bucky, his hysterical best friend.
Steve had picture in a damn dictionary next to the words ‘perfect boyfriend’. Which was why you should just click on the damn no, because there was no way you let any other man inside you. The mere idea made you physically sick.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Natasha remarked next to your ear and you jumped in your seat with a startled yelp, your heart nearly giving out.
“Jesus, Nat! What the hell-!“
“Girl. That’s a no. You have Steve. Or can you like… imagine doing it?”
Jesus fuck, how did she know exactly what the train of your thought was?!
“You’re right,” you said, shaking your head instantly, finally settling on no. Moving to another question however, you bit your cheek. “But the chances are higher that someone will pick me, right? If I say yes?”
The silence that fell on the room was solemn, Natasha’s hand reaching out and pushing your shoulder to force you to look at her. Her eyes were wide, concerned, disapproval written all over her face.
“Yes. And it will also mean that they will want you to sleep with them. And I mean sleep with them. Bang you into the damn wall and make you like it, or make you pretend you like it. Is that what you want?”
No. Absolutely not. Your stomach turned over at the idea.
You were all for being fucked into a wall. By your boyfriend. Your amazing, wonderful boyfriend, who would have his heart broken if he ever found out. Which would probably happen, because you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye and just confessed to him.
And that would be the end of your relationship – you couldn’t have that under any circumstance.
Then again, how long would you even be able to keep this extra part-time job secret anyway? You needed as much as money as you could in a short period of time-
“That’s my girl. Leave the no.“
“But it will get me more money too, right? Faster? I don’t look to make a fortune, Nat, I just--- a few nights to have an extra money for the worst-case scenarios and… then I’ll be done with it,” you explained, trying to convince her as much as yourself.
Maybe… maybe?
“This is an awful idea. It’s fucking terrible, hun. You don’t wanna go down that road,” Nat argued, hiding her anger at you for even considering the option behind a soft frown.
“Others did.”
She sighed. “Yes. But a) you are a sweet loyal person who totally needs a connection to sleep with someone and b) there’s this little detail that you have a damn boyfriend.”
You shook your head and quickly changed your answer to ‘maybe’ at least. Natasha gave a hiss in warning.
“It’s not yes!” you protested, instantly on the defensive. “Maybe I’ll luck out. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Except for the fact that I love Steve and watching him ruin himself is--- that’s not gonna work. I’m choosing the maybe for him. For us.”
“I still hate it,” your friend muttered, but yielded. “If this is gonna ruin my OTP, I’m fucking firing you as my best friend.”
You mouth fell open in shock, feeling the mental blow deep in your stomach as if she actually hit you. She would—after you’d-
“Okay, I wouldn’t, I’d be there to give you a shoulder to cry on, ‘cause I’m with you till the end of the line or whatever, but--- just… Steve’s the guy, okay? You have this… puppy love going on. You’re gonna marry him one day and have two little carbon copies of you running around, white picket fence in the suburbs and all that. Don’t mess this up, hun,” Natasha whispered, deadly serious, just a hint of a smile playing in the corner of her mouth. “Don’t forget that his stomach might be protesting, but he’d withstand it for years for you and his heart would be happy. He’s crazy about you.”
You stared at your best friend, few tears forming in your eyes, warmth settling around your heart, because you knew she was telling you the truth. In a really cheesy way, but the truth nevertheless.
“You write those yourself?” you teased her lightly and she playfully slapped your shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Thank you, Nat. Believe me – I can’t lose Steve. And I won’t.”
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You should have known you’d be eating your words in less than a week later.
Upon entering the restaurant and having the hostess lead you towards the private room, you were certain this was your punishment.
Because sitting at the table – with white cloth and everything, because this was a high-brow restaurant, you had had to at least try to dress accordingly to that – was Steve. You froze in the doorway, entirely deaf to the what the woman said to you before she left.
Your gut twisted in panic, heart pounding in your chest. This wasn’t happening. How could it--- had Nat told him? Was this a set-up? Or was Steve in the app? Impossible. But then how was this possible?!
Because it was happening. Steve was sitting at the table, expensively looking suit, fluffy hair and beard--- and your lips parted in shock when you looked at him; truly looked at him.
His hair was an inch shorter and a shade darker. He filled the suit well, but his shoulders were a little less square than you were used to; where Steve appeared a bit like a bodybuilder, this man was more like… athletic.
It wasn’t Steve. This man just looked like could as well be his twin.
You had no idea what to do.
On one hand, this was clearly a punishment, an all-night reminder that you had a boyfriend who loved you and currently believed you were having a fun girls’ night with your bestie. On the other hand, maybe you could make this work. Your nerves had been getting the best of you, still were now, but perhaps seeing a familiar face would help?
Fuck, this was so ironic. Maybe you should just leave. Or walk straight towards the table, tell the man you were sorry, but you couldn’t do this. He looked like Steve; surely he was equally nice? Okay, probably not, but at least something of him--
It was the exact moment Steve’s twin raised his gaze from his phone, scanning the room— and spotting you standing in the doorway like a dumbass.
Apparently not concerned by your hesitance, his lips curled in a soft smile and he rose to his feet, approaching you with measured steps. He was slightly shorter than Steve too; and he had a few more lines around his eyes.
“Good evening, miss,” he offered in levelled voice, causing you to gulp and finally unfreeze. You tried to smile and likely failed as you returned the greeting politely.
He had kind eyes; and despite the low-lit intimate setting of the private room, you could tell his irises were also a different shade from Steve’s. Despite the jab of guilt at remembering Steve again, you made a quick choice.
Extending your hand, you introduced yourself – with your previously chosen fake name, obviously.
The man gently grasped your hand, faking a kiss to its back. Oh no. He was being a gentleman. That was… you weren’t certain whether you liked it or not.
“Pleasure to meet you. Call me Andy. Shall we sit?”
And you did. You let him lead you to the table as if you weren’t in control of your body anymore, allowed him to pull the chair out for you and hand you the wine list while he seated himself.
Eyes skimming the list of names you barely ever heard of – with no price quoted –, your gaze flickered over the top of the menu to your companion and swiftly returned as he caught you.
You might as well say you caught him watching you, smiling with one corner of his lips higher, but unlike you, he didn’t shy away from it, quiet confidence and an air of power surrounding him.
You wondered if he knew how out of your element you were.
And you wondered, whether the knot forming in your stomach was guilt or a flicker of excitement.
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Listening to Andy talking, you soon realized he also had a different manner of speaking. There was a lilt to his voice, something about the colour you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
You learned things about him. That he was here for a week on a business trip, but also took whatever chance he could get to relax and enjoy the city – you did not miss the meaningful once-over he gave you – that he was an attorney, he came from Boston, enjoyed swimming and always wanted a dog.
Question was, how much of that was true. You weren’t a good liar, but you alternated what you could anyway. Andy now knew what your major was, but was told a fake minor. You picked a city close to your home, but not your hometown and complained about the winters there. Only one of the three hobbies you shared were legit something you enjoyed.
If Andy saw through the lies, he didn’t mention it. Why would he? Hell, he didn’t even know your real name and you probably didn’t know his, not yet at least. God knew if you guessed his age correctly, thinking he was in his late thirties; you didn’t want to think about it.
What you did learn and knew was true was that he had a great taste in restaurants – you legit had a small foodgasm – and that he was flirty. He complimented you several times and every time he did, you felt both pleased and incredibly guilty. During the whole meal, there was a battle raging inside you, gradually calming down as Andy’s resemblance to Steve put you at ease; you were a mediocre liar if even, but you could lie to yourself just fine. Or it could have been the wine.
“Listen, Kendra… I have a room few floors up. Would you like it to move this evening there?”
Your heart stopped in your chest before kicking in in a feverish pace, hammering against your ribcage. Your head was suddenly spinning.
Andy cocked his head to side, studying you, before an inviting smile spread his lips.
“We don’t have to, of course. But rest assured if we go, it will not stay unrewarded.”
You nearly choked on your spit, squeezing your eyes shut. The way he phrased it was almost respectful – but also very telling.
There was no describing the shame settling deep in your gut; then again, this was what you wanted. More money. And if you had to go upstairs for it… well. At least Andy seemed nice enough. He reminded you of Steve – which was both a blessing and a curse – he was relatively young compared to what you had imagined the man you’d be meeting would be. He was undeniably attractive and he clearly didn’t aim to make you feel cheap… not more than strictly necessary.
As far as you were concerned, you had also chosen ‘maybe’ with other questions; for all you knew, this could end up in a blowjob and you thought… maybe that would fly. You could do that, maybe--- forcing your eyes open, you found Andy observing you quietly, patiently waiting for your decision.
He was giving you a choice, which alone was a good sign – he wasn’t an asshole.
Or it could just be an act.
The reality might be that the moment the hotel room door clicked shut, he’d push you against the wall face-first and took whatever he wanted.
As his eyes never left you, patient but shamelessly appreciative of your looks, you took a deep breath and decided that no – Andy wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t some monster. The aura of power and confidence had one more shade to it: protectiveness.
It was ridiculous to think such of a man who was paying you to be here, but… it was the impression you got of him.
“A-alright,” you stuttered awkwardly, earning a wide smile from him, a twinkle of excitement in his irises.
“They’ll add the food and drinks to my bill. Let’s go.”
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As the numbers of the floors climbed, you felt your stomach gradually sinking – and you were more and more doubtful about your decision. You weren’t ready for this. At all. Natasha was right – you needed connection… a true connection.
And as nice as Andy was trying to be about this whole thing, you couldn’t— you felt so filthy for just sharing an elevator ride with this stranger.
Entering the room only solidified the ugly feeling in your gut and the moment the room door shut behind you, Andy didn’t slam you against the wall, no. Instead, you turned to him, feeling blood having drained from your face and yet pumping in your temples.
“I’m sorry. I can’t—I should go,” you blurted out, a slight tremble to your voice and to your hands.
It was a mistake, coming up here.
This whole thing was a mistake-
To your shock, no shouting came. No anger, period. Just a disappointed sigh and that little sound made your rising panic settle, curiosity getting the best of you as you eyed the gorgeous man in front of you.
What was he even doing in a sugar daddy agency? It wasn’t like he could have a lack of female attention – or male for that matter – because he was handsome as hell and apparently rich.
“I’m not gonna stop you. I understand. I can imagine first times in such position are hard,” he explained his sentiment, causing your lips to part in surprise and a smudge of shame.
That obvious you were, huh?
“How can you tell?” you asked almost soundlessly, a huge lump growing your throat. All of sudden, you also felt terrible for disappointing him.
He only shrugged in response, a hint of a smile in one corner of his lips, almost concealed by his beard.
“I’m an attorney, honey. I have to be good at reading people.”
For the briefest moment, you acknowledged the flutter in your lower belly at the sugar-sweet endearment rolling off his tongue. Honey. And then it was gone, reality breaking through again along with the fresh guilt.
“I’m sorry. You can—you don’t have to pay the money to the agency-“
“That’s not how this works, honey,” he corrected you with a drop of patronizing, which you found yourself …. not hating. Here it was again… honey.
You wished he’d stop saying it. And that he’d the slow steps towards you as well.
“I--- I don’t know then, how to… like compensate you, I just--- I can’t I’m sorry, I’m-“ you stumbled over your words, the shame grinding deeper and deeper and-
“You have a boyfriend,” he whispered in realization, eyes widening and by some strange game of lights darkening as well, turning into a raging ocean.
“…yes. I’m sorry for all this, I-“
“Oh honey,” Andy shook his head gently as he continued to approach you, voice uncharacteristically soft for a situation you two found yourself in. “Don’t be. He’s a lucky guy, your boyfriend. I wish my ex-wife had been so faithful.”
Your gaze automatically flickered to the empty space on his left hand. Jesus. “Oh. Uhm, sorry.”
That explained a thing or two.
His irises were ablaze, watching your every move, every breath, every involuntary shiver under his undivided attention. And then… then he smiled. Or maybe it was a smirk. You weren’t sure. You just knew it got harder to breathe and he was nothing like Steve--- fuck, Steve, you needed to get the fuck out of here-
“You’re adorable. What a pure soul. Such a good girl.”
The jolt the endearment sent up your spine was impossible to ignore, causing you to shudder. Andy’s smile widened, the gap between you thinning.
“You like that, don’t you?” he queried, gently and yet. Yet it made the coil in your belly swirl and burn, hair stand on end as his aura earned a new tone – a predatory one, but at the same time… tempting. No! That was wrong! You weren’t here of your own will, not really- “You like being a good girl, don’t you?”
You didn’t realize you were backed into a wall until your back literally hit it, leaving no more space for your retreat. Andy lifted his hand, agonizingly slowly – and still, you couldn’t seem to back away from the touch you knew was coming.
Maybe… maybe the attraction wasn’t a bad thing? You still wouldn’t sleep with him, your mind wasn’t that foggy, but— you could still earn some more money and not entirely suffer for it?
The pad of his thumb was warm and soft as it skimmed over your jaw, brushing your lower lip, where it lingered, pulling it down with a minute pressure.
Besides the rise of your chest with your rapid breathing, you couldn’t make yourself to move an inch, hypnotized by the blue of his irises disappearing, the blue that should be having a drop of green in it, because you were Steve’s, you loved Steve and you were doing this for him and for your and his future.
And yet, despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a warm slick gathering in your underwear, heat pooling in your core and it had everything to do with the man touching you now.
“Oh honey… so pretty, so good, so… immaculate. Jesus, you have any idea how hot that is, makes me want to drag you through the mud I am…”
His free hand fell to your hip, squeezing lightly as if to examine your reaction. Swallowing against the sudden dry sensation in your throat, you allowed yourself to sink into the heat of his palm rather than avoid the touch.
A small whimper escaped your lips as his chest pressed against yours next, effectively trapping you; not necessarily forcefully, but enough to make it count. Enough to make you want more; and enough to make you want to flee.
Shit, everything was so confusing and your heart was wild in your ribcage and you couldn’t tell anymore if it raced because Andy was a ridiculously attractive man showing very evident interest, his warmth seeping into you, his cologne making your head swim--- or if it was fear, the knot you felt tighten in your belly urging you to run before this got to places he wouldn’t let you escape from.
“Stop me, honey,” he whispered, voice low and husky, hot breath fanning over your face, the only true warning you got.
And then his face was so close you couldn’t bear looking at him anymore, letting your eyelids flutter shut. His lips were slightly chapped as they brushed yours, testing the waters before pushing further. He smelled different than you were used to – but the rough sensation of his beard against your skin was familiar; painfully so.
You didn’t stop him. You didn’t back out. You didn’t respond to his advances right away either, torn—because you found yourself liking this. And that was terribly, terribly wrong. Wasn’t it?
Your breath caught in your throat as the surprisingly hard lines of his body pressed against your yours, pushing you into the wall. You felt the rumble in his chest as he hummed and it finally made you act. Breathing him in, you forced yourself to kiss back.
His response was immediate. His hand ran up your waist, fingers squeezing your ribs just under your breasts, drawing a startled sound from your lips, one he instantly swallowed, seizing the opportunity to push past the seam of your lips. You felt your fingertips tingle as his tongue met yours, swirling and caressing you expertly, your thighs squeezing on instinct as you felt the hot pulse in your core.
“Atta girl,” he praised you softly, giving you a second to breathe before he dived back in, hips grinding into yours and offering you a taste of what was he hiding in those dress pants of his. You gasped as you felt him hard against your thigh, startled and much to your dismay, aroused.
Before you could decide which was winning, he wedged his knee between yours, the defined muscles of thigh pressing against your core, one of his hands gripping your hip to lead your movement. Your head spun as he guided you to grind against him, the friction delicious as was his taste on your tongue.
His other hand cupped your breast over the thin fabric of your dress and bra, dextrous fingers finding your hard nipple to roll it between them. An involuntary moan escaped you, your hips bucking of their own volition. Distantly, you were aware of the smile against your throat as your lips were set free, his assault on your senses continued above the crook of your neck.
“Wanna see you come, pretty girl,“ he muttered, teeth playfully nipping on your skin and you gasped, the words and the slightly unfamiliar voice saying them like a bucket of ice-cold water, instantly clearing the fog of arousal.
You flattened your hands against his chest – when had they gripped his suit jacket? – pushing as you shook your head, eyes snapping open.
“No- I--- I can’t, I-“
Andy moved back an inch, giving you a minute room to breathe, dark eyes boring into yours as you left tears of shame, confusion and frustration pooling in them.
His index finger cut off your protests as it landed on your lips and for the first time tonight, you truly felt fear. He was built – he was much stronger than you. If he pleased, he could have you if any way he wanted and to him, even if you tried to resist, it would be like you never put up a fight. His eyes were hungry, want, need written all over his face and you felt your knees give out.
He caught you; not with brutal force to trap you, but to support you, that damn finger on your lips stroking the kiss-swollen flesh.
“Shh…” he hushed you, moving his fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Shhhh, not like that, honey, I can see you wouldn’t let me.”
You shivered, confusion peaking as he kept observing you as if he was drinking you in; every detail, the no doubt messed up make-up, glassy eyes, the single tear running down your cheek. You felt physically ill and yet—you couldn’t deny the arousal smouldering somewhere inside you, waiting to be revived.
“I don’t--- I don’t understand-“ you whispered, the sound pathetic to your own ears.
Andy closed his eyes, clenching his jaw, the hands on you curling into fists. For a moment, he looked like he was in pain – and few seconds later, his eyes seemed even darker as they drilled into yours.
“So sweet, Christ, I could eat you up…” he sighed and you had no doubt in your mind that he could. “I have an offer, honey. Listening?”
Hesitating for a few breaths, you nodded. A smirk curled Andy’s lips, the pads of his fingers stroking the hollow of your throat, chasing the fear away and stoking the fire inside you instead.
“You’re gonna get on that ridiculously expensive bed and spread your legs, pretty girl.” Where did all the oxygen go, Jesus Christ? “You’ll let me see all of you, maybe touch a bit, within limits. And you’re gonna give me a real nice show. How does that sound? Can you be a good girl and come on your fingers?”
It only took you moments to weight your options – as far as you were concerned, this one was the most plausible way to satisfy you both. The cleanest way.
“Yes. Yes, I can.”
“That’s my girl.”
Except you weren’t. You were another man’s girl, but as he led you to the bed, tugging impatiently at your hand and yet not manhandling you, it was so easy to give in.
“Let me,” he hushed you as you reached for the back zipper of your dress and you obediently let your hands fall, reminding yourself to breathe when he brushed your hair out of the way, pulling as the zipper and tugging it open only half way, pushing one of the straps down your shoulder to reveal your bra – leaving you only half exposed. “Colour suits you. Leave in on like this.”
Nodding automatically, you earned a kiss to your bare shoulder, a muttered praise which dampened your underwear.
“Lie down, honey.”
And you did, suddenly excited fingers tucking the tight skirt up your legs of their own volition, revealing your lacy panties, drawing a guttural moan from Andy.
He was watching you, intense gaze never leaving the flimsy piece of fabric as he undid his belt.
The clank of the buckle startled you, because he had said he wouldn’t--- but he explained before you could question it and back out.
“Gotta take advantage of buying tickets to the front row,” he remarked suggestively, the reminder of relatively easy money making you spring into action and swallow the shame that climbed up your throat.  
Biting down on your lip, you hooked your fingers in your underwear and shuffled it down your legs just as he pulled out his cock – and your core clenched around nothing at the intimidating and tempting sight. He was big. Like, really big, but also kinda magnificent, the angry red tip with a glistening drops of precum sending fresh surge of arousal between your legs.
His lips parted as he stroked himself, leaving you helpless to do anything but feast your eyes. No matter the circumstance, there was no denying this man was insanely attractive and seeing him give himself some needed attention was an erotic sight. It was familiar too – he really was painfully reminding you of Steve.
“Touch yourself, honey.”
Closing your eyes and dipping your middle finger into your slick, yours legs jolted a bit – you craved to release the building tension more than you were willing to admit. Drawing a line up to your aching clit, a soft moan escaped you. It felt so good. And until the mattress next to you sunk, it was easy to forget you were being watched – but upon that reminder, a light brush of hand on your thigh, your hips only bucked as the coil in your belly tightened.
“That’s a good girl. Show me how sensitive you are, how much you need it, honey,” he whispered to your ear, the unmistakable rustle of fabric and the lilt of his voice telling you he was enjoying the view indeed.
It was so easy to get lost in the sensations, your own hand working you up, bigger hand occasionally skimming over your breasts, other times squeezing whenever it could reach – except for where your own hand was and it was both welcomed and driving you crazy with need. He guided your hand at some point, giving you direction to speed up, to sink deeper, “use at least two fingers, honey, to make up for one of mine”, to play with your clit.
With three fingers sunk deep in your cunt, speeding up your movements, the squelchy sounds both embarrassing and insanely erotic, you could hear him tip over the edge, few drops of his seed painting your thigh, his breaths harsh and quick, a guttural moan escaping his lips.
“So fucking pretty, honey, doing so good,” he praised you breathlessly and despite yourself, your gaze found him, his fingers still wrapped around his cock, stroking to drag his pleasure out. “Come, for me, honey. Soak your fingers and gimme a taste.”
All air was punched out of your lungs at his words and you felt the coil in your belly snap, sending you into a spiral of pleasure, your hips grinding on your fingers as the familiar intense heat flooded your veins, making your head swim.
“Gorgeous.”
The single word reached from distance as you were coming from your high, temples pulsing with the blissful rush. As you ceased your movements, body turning limp, he snatched your hand wet with your juices--- the next thing you felt was the tip of his tongue swirling around your fingers, humming appreciatively at your taste.
It was when the reality set in and your hand automatically curled into a lose fist, weakly trying to earn freedom. He licked a few more times before he let go, giving enough time to your panic to settle in.
Oh fuck this just happened. You just--- you- oh no. Oh fuck.
“You did wonderful, honey. Worth every fucking penny…”
Feeling tears gathering in your eyes, the bliss disappearing as quickly as it came, you felt your stomach turn as you tried to find your voice. “A-Andy, please, I-“
His arm pulled you to him, loosely embracing you and all you could do was to let him, too busy focusing on your breathing, tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks, soothed by a rough scratch of his beard and soft kiss to your jaw.  
“Hush, honey, none of that,” he whispered, probably to coax you. It had zero effect as your shoulders shook with the effort to supress your sobs. “You did so good. Seeing you fall apart, even if it wasn’t entirely for me… what a fucking pretty sight. Now give me one more kiss and I’ll take you home.”
“Uhm, dorms, I’m not-“ you babbled illogically, feeling his smile against our skin.
“Right. Dorms. Now be a good girl, kiss me like you mean it.”
He didn’t ask permission or requested it, taking your mouth mercilessly, forcing your own taste into your mouth. His fingers sunk into the cooling drops on top of your thigh, gathering his spent and swiftly pushing the pad of his forefinger past your entrance. He groaned in response to your gasp at the intrusion, your hips moving on instinct despite the sensitivity and his perverted actions.
“Oh, honey, the things I’d do to you…”
“N-no, please-“ you whimpered pathetically, fighting your body reaction as fresh tears gathered in your eyes.
His finger disappeared with a telling wet sound and he pecked your lips. “I know, honey. I know. Maybe next time you’ll let me. Maybe next time…”
He rose to his feet, materializing a packet of tissues from god knew where, wordlessly saying to clean yourself up. You did. Gratefully. His words echoed in your skull; a wish, a promise.
Maybe. Next time.
“I’ll take you home now,” he announced and dropped a kiss to your hairline.
All you could do was take the affection and nod, strange numbness sneaking up your veins from your fingertips, up your limbs and finally reaching your chest and head.
Once you cleaned up, you redressed on autopilot, feeling something stir inside you as put on the wet panties – and the flicker of emotion was nothing pleasant. Fortunately, it died quickly; replaced by the blissful static short-circuiting your brain and cutting it off from any emotion.
You welcomed that Andy didn’t talk in the car. You could tell he was watching you as the city lights blurred behind the windshield, causing your eyes to burn; but he stayed quiet. Not even a radio was on; or maybe you just tuned it out, you weren’t sure.
You just knew that his hand brushed yours as he dropped you off with gentle, almost concerned goodbye which you half-heartedly returned, the one word surprisingly hard to push up your throat with the lump that was forming there ever since you climbed into his car.
Natasha was awake to welcome you; you didn’t even have to ring her to unlock the room for you. She just opened the door and took one look at you--- and she pulled you inside, the door clicking shut just a second before your knees buckled and you leaned onto the wall, choking on a sob.
True to her word, Nat coaxed you into getting to bed and then gave you the promised shoulder to cry on. And fuck did you cry. Rivers. Your breaths were coming out short, tightness in your chest and nausea rising up your throat as the sobs shook your body, trembling hands gripping Natasha’s t-shirt like a lifeline. She didn’t speak besides uttering few empty comforting words.
Eventually, it lulled to restless sleep.
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It didn’t take long for you to wake up with a startle, pillow damp from your tears, your pyjama – not that you remembered Natasha forcing you to change – soaked in your sweat. The ugly feeling was still sitting in your stomach, constricting your ribcage and you knew there was only one way out; even if it was the way deeper to the pit.
Reaching out for your phone on the nightstand, you dialled the only number that could be your salvation. Your heart pounded in your chest painfully in anticipation as your wordlessly prayed he picked up.
“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice reached your ears; rough from sleep, the endearment more confusion than anything else.
It washed over you like a tide wave, calming – and covering you like a heavy blanket, weighting you down as it quickly felt yourself sinking into it and drowning in it instead.
You sputtered a noise, scratchy in your throat, something resembling a sob and a whine and Steve’s concerned voice called your name, demanding what was going on.
Fresh tears streaming down your cheeks and you covered your mouth just in case another of those horrible sounds were about spill from your lips.
“Sweetheart? Please, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
Everything. I am. I was so so wrong. I was so bad.
Blinking away your tears as you blindly stared on the dark ceiling, you coaxed yourself into taking a deep breath, feeling your lower lip wobbling – as if you were a damn child.
Then again, with how unable you had been to see how today would turn out, you might as well be. A child. Inexperienced. Pure soul, so immaculate, Andy’s voice echoed in your brain and it made you feel everything but that.
You felt filthy; dragged through the mud your potential sugar daddy claimed he was, but that wasn’t on him. That was on you.
And you never had been more disgusted with yourself.
Steve kept asking what happened, begging you to talk to him and finally, you managed to form words.
“I—Steve,” your voice broke on his name and you had to take a breath again so you wouldn’t just go back to the unstoppable sobbing. “I did so-something ter-terrible.” You sobbed anyway as the idea of your next words being true sent you into a spiral of despair, because fuck, you couldn’t lose him. “And I’m--- scared that you’ll n-n-never f-for-forgive me.”
“Sweetheart?”
Wiping at your nose and biting your cheek at his fearful tone, you shuddered before continuing. The ominous silence stretched.
“I’m so s-sorry. I- I did it for us. I… I swear that I did--- did it for us.”
Maybe if you said it enough times, you’d make up for the fact that for a moment, it felt really good to fall apart in front of another man in much sweeter way than you were falling apart now.
Maybe.
But for now, after you told Steve everything, the dial tone as the call disconnected was all you had. You clutched the pillow soaked in your own tears, choking on a sob and prayed to all saints and Gods you knew that Steve’s kind heart had enough forgiveness for your stupid ass. If there was one person on this whole damn planet who could forgive for what you did, you thought it would be him.
…maybe.
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Steve Rogers masterlist
Mics characters masterlist
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Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers​
So… my first fic where I kinda hate the reader? Or at least I’m a lot like WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! I don’t know. Cheat fics are… yeah, cheating is a big BIG no-no for me, so I’m not sure where this came from and if it turned out okay.
Bet you didn’t expect that much angst. I like to think she never met Andy again and that they figured stuff out with Steve – they went through a rough patch, but made it work. But hey, if you want, you can imagine entirely something else.  *smirk smirk*
Also, FYI, I lost one night’s sleep, because of the moral hangover I felt with the reader. So I hope it was worth it and at least one person liked this.
Anyway. Thank you for reading!
P.S. sorry for those who feel baited by the sneak peek with Steve’s gif. That was my imaginary Steve finding out about Andy Barber, plotting murder with Bucky, because someone touched his girl. Fuck the circumstance.
274 notes · View notes
chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years
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The House in the Pines Where the Road Ends
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Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, The Reyes Family
Rating: K
Summary: Four sisters. Nine nieces and nephews. Dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Carlos has a big, loud, over-the-top family, and T.K. is about to meet all of them at the annual Reyes Family Barbecue. It's a day that promises food, fun, and lots of nosy questions. All T.K. wants is to make a good impression and all Carlos wants is for his family not to scare off his boyfriend. When a stray baseball ruins the fun, both T.K. and Carlos will discover that neither of them ever needed to worry.
A/N: I am so happy to FINALLY introduce you to my version of the Reyes family. They have become a character all their own and I love them very dearly. Get ready to see and hear more about them in upcoming fics! I cannot say enough thank you's to @bluenet13​ who has read this fic approximately a billion times in all its different stages, has beta'ed the heck out of it, and still wants to be friends with me.
For the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Sports Injury
Read on Ao3
“Wait, but are you sure this shirt is okay?” T.K. asked, twisting around in front of the mirror to look at it from every possible angle.
“Do you really think my family is going to decide whether or not they like you based on your shirt?” Carlos asked with a laugh.
“It’s their first impression of me,” T.K. said, fussing with the hemline, trying to get it to lay exactly right. “I just want it to be good.”
Carlos came up behind him, wrapping his arms around T.K.’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “They are going to love you.” He pressed a kiss to T.K.’s cheek.
T.K. turned in his arms so they were face to face, anxiety trickling through his veins. “I love you,” he said.
“I know,” Carlos told him. “I love you too.”
“Your family is important to you and I guess I can’t help feeling like…there’s a chance that if they don’t like me…”
“T.K…” Carlos sent him a look of fond exasperation.
“I know!” T.K. said quickly. “I know it’s ridiculous. But if they don’t like me, I don’t know where we go next.”
“I don’t think we need to borrow trouble like that,” Carlos said. “You already know my parents love you. And so do Elena and Elías.”
They’d had dinner at Carlos’ second eldest sister’s home a few weeks back. It had been fun to meet her and her husband along with their daughter, Carolina, and twins, Marco and Diego. Marco was rambunctious and spunky while Diego was more mild mannered and T.K. had enjoyed watching Carlos chase them around the backyard, playing baseball, tag, and wrestling.
But meeting one sister and her family was completely different from attending the annual Reyes Family Barbecue where there would be hundreds of aunts, uncles, and cousins to try and remember.
“Trust me,” Carlos said. “Elena will have spread the word and you’ll already have pre-approval before we even get there.”
“What if I call someone the wrong name?” T.K. asked. “I still think you should have written up a family tree like I asked you to.”
Carlos rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. We’re adding to it like every day there are so many of us. You’ll never be able to remember. If you’re not sure just call them Gabriel or Valentina. There’s a forty percent chance you’ll be right.”
“This isn’t fair,” T.K. said, burying his face in Carlos’ shirt. “I have like, four family members. The playing field is so uneven I don’t even have a chance.”
Carlos kissed his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy the food. That’s all anyone expects of you.”
“I seriously doubt that,” T.K. grumbled.
“Listen, if anybody should be concerned in this situation, it’s me,” Carlos said.
“You?” T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“You just said, you come from a small family. My family is big and loud and all up in each other’s business. Francesca alone might be enough to make you run all the way back to New York.”
Carlos had talked before about his wild child fourth sister, Francesca. Apparently she was a force to be reckoned with and had caused quite a bit of trouble as a kid. According to Carlos every time he’d gotten in trouble, it had actually been Francesca’s fault. Well Francesca and Adriana, Carlos’ cousin who was more like a fifth sister. She and Francesca had been born within weeks of each other and been an inseparable duo ever since.
“New York is a pretty long way to run,” T.K. said. “And I’ve gotten kind of used to sleeping with you. I don’t really want to have to break in a new mattress. Oh, and for all I know you’ve gotten kind used to having my exercise bike in your dining room and I would have to buy a new one of those, plus moving costs are out of sight and I am on a civil servant’s salary here.”
Carlos kissed him again. “Come on. We’re already late and if we don’t get there soon then I will be in trouble.”
T.K. had already visited the Reyes family ranch a handful of times, but he had never seen it quite like this. Cars lined every inch of the drive up to the house, from pick-up trucks to mini-vans and everything in between. “Is this a family barbecue or a Lady Gaga concert?” T.K. asked as they got out of the car.
Carlos laughed and reached for his hand. “I told you.”
“Yeah I hoped maybe you were exaggerating a little bit,” T.K. said as they walked toward the driveway. As if he hadn’t been nervous already, now he felt overwhelmed. He was generally charming and good with people, but this was…a lot.
Carlos tensed. “Come this way,” he said, voice low as he tugged T.K. more to the side of the driveway, where a row of cars hid them from view of the house.
“What are we doing?” T.K. asked in confusion.
“We’re—”
“Carlitos don’t you even try! We see you over there!” a feminine voice called.
Carlos winced and looked at T.K. “I’m just going to say ahead of time that I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Two women came around the line of cars, each of them holding a drink. “You weren’t trying to hide from us were you?” the taller of the two asked.
“No I was just trying to get T.K. inside without the third degree first,” Carlos said, giving each of them a pointed look.
“Carlitos we’re not going to give him the third degree,” the second woman said, her many earrings flashing in the sunlight. “We’re just going to try and prepare him for what he’s about to face.”
“You don’t need to prepare him,” Carlos said with a sigh of long suffering. “There’s nothing to prepare for.”
“Oh my god Carlos, you cannot just drag him in here without some proper preparation,” the first woman said, turning to look at T.K. “So, you’re the firefighter stripper, huh?”
T.K.’s eyes went wide and he looked to Carlos who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. “For the last time, he’s a paramedic now and he has never been a stripper.” He opened his eyes and took a breath in a clear attempt to calm himself down. “T.K. I would like you to meet my sister Francesca.”
“His youngest older sister,” Francesca clarified looking T.K. up and down. “You’re hot enough to be a stripper.”
“And my cousin Adriana,” Carlos said loudly in an attempt to stop his sister’s comments. 
“It’s nice to meet you both,” T.K. said with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “Carlos has told me a lot about you.”
“Is it about how we were always getting him in trouble when he was a kid? Because that’s a lie,” Adriana said. 
“Total lie,” Francesca echoed. “So, how has it been, living in sin with my brother?”
“Oh my god Francesca can you just let us get through the door first?” Carlos cried.
She shook her head and grinned. “Nope. This is way more fun. Besides, Adriana got to know about him first, so I wanted to meet him before everyone else.”
“Did Carlos tell you not to tell Tía Maria you’re living together?” Adriana asked.
“Um, no, he didn’t mention that,” T.K. said, looking once again to his boyfriend.
“I didn’t really think it was necessary,” Carlos said.
“Tía Maria has strong religious opinions,” Francesca said.
“Oh is she not…” T.K. began to pull his hand from Carlos’ but his boyfriend held on firmly.
“Tía Maria is fine with the gay, she’s just not all right with fornication,” Adriana said with a grin, eyeing T.K. for his reaction.
“Oh my god, forget it, we’re going home,” Carlos said, trying to turn around, but Francesca grabbed his other arm.
“Nuh uh hermano,” she said sweetly. “Mom and Dad are expecting you. I already texted them and told them you’re here.”
“Wait hold on, I’m confused,” T.K. said, feeling slightly panicked as the conversation moved so quickly around him. “What do I need to know about Tía Maria?”
“Tía Maria is very against pre-marital sex,” Francesca said.
“In her mind we’re all pure, sweet, innocent little virgins, waiting to give up our virtue to our husbands on our wedding nights,” Adriana said, her face suggesting that she’d rather throw up than submit to that particular lifestyle. “Little does she know that ship has sailed.”
“Under the bleachers with Jake Thompson in the eleventh grade,” Francesca said.
“In Mike Kowalski’s backseat…”
“After prom with Sebastian Chavez…”
“Okay that’s enough of the sexcapades thank you,” Carlos said, looking disgusted.
“You didn’t think I needed to know this?” T.K. said looking at Carlos.
“I am not ashamed of us living together,” Carlos told him. “I don’t care if Tía Maria knows.”
“Ugh barf,” Francesca said. “God I wanted to be mad at you for caving and leaving us all alone at the singles table but you’re so grossly in love I don’t even want you there anymore.”
“Can we go in now?” Carlos asked. “Is this little interrogation over with?”
“Oh you can go in, but it’s far from over,” Adriana said, wrenching T.K.’s arm away from Carlos and tucking it into her own as she walked him toward the house. “So, T.K. What can we get you to drink? Beer? Margarita? Or are you a wine snob? You look like you could be a wine snob.”
“He’s from New York, they’re all wine snobs there,” Francesca said.
“T.K. doesn’t drink,” Carlos called from behind him. “You already know that.”
Adriana nodded. “Just checking. That’s cool. I did the sober thing for like six months once. My skin was so great.”
“Okay, I’m taking T.K. inside now,” Carlos said, rescuing his arm from Adriana’s grip. “You two can go back to wherever it is you came from. I’m going to guess…the gates of hell?”
“So rude Carlos,” Francesca said with a roll of her eyes.
“Come on Cesca, I need another margarita,” Adriana said, pulling her toward the back of the house.
“But I have more questions!”
“Questions later! Margarita now!”
They disappeared around the side of the house, leaving Carlos looking embarrassed and T.K. feeling like he’d just been through a whirlwind. “You can literally ignore everything about them,” Carlos said as he opened the door. “Just pretend they don’t exist. That’s what the rest of us do when they get like this.”
T.K. had a feeling neither Francesca nor Adriana liked to be ignored, but Andrea greeted them immediately as they walked inside, leaving him no opportunity for further questions or conversation. “T.K.! Carlitos! Welcome!”
There were a few other people milling around inside, but it seemed like most of the family was in the backyard. T.K. could hear music playing and the smell of barbecue wafted through the glass slider doors that led to the oversized back patio.
“Sorry we’re late Mama,” Carlos said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s my fault,” T.K. said. “I had a shift and it ran over.”
“No apologies necessary,” Andrea said, waving a hand. “I understand the important work you boys do. I’m just sorry your dad couldn’t make it T.K.”
“He said to tell you hello and that he will be here for sure next time,” T.K. told her with a smile.
It had been a huge relief to find out that the party was scheduled while his dad was on shift. The last thing he needed was one more thing to give him anxiety about meeting Carlos’ family.
Andrea caught his face in both hands. “We are so glad you’re here T.K.” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you something to drink. I’ve got lots of that fancy water you like.”
The back slider opened as Andrea pulled a water from the refrigerator for T.K. “Boys! Bienvenidos!” Gabriel boomed as he stepped inside, bringing the scent of barbecue with him.
“Gabriel close that door before the air conditioning gets out,” Andrea scolded.
“Of course mi amor,” he said. “I was just looking for another set of tongs. Daniel is going to help with the second grill.”
“They’re in the pantry,” Andrea said. “Where they always are.”
Gabriel paused to kiss her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”
“Starve?” Carlos suggested with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a grape off the counter and popped it in his mouth.
Gabriel snorted. “Probably.”
“All right now you two, head on outside and join the party,” Andrea said. “You don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”
“Are you sure?’ Carlos asked. “We can stay and help.”
“No, no,” Andrea said quickly. “Gloria will be back in a minute. Go! Enjoy! Introduce T.K. to the family.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Tía Maria that you live together. You know how she gets and I do not need another lecture on how I raised my children with loose morals.”
“Yes, for everyone’s sanity, please keep that to yourselves,” Gabriel said, reappearing with the tongs in hand. “No need for my sister to know that you are breaking the commandments.”
T.K. turned and looked at his boyfriend. “Everyone seems very concerned about this.”
Carlos shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting. Tía Maria isn’t that scary.” He kissed T.K. on the side of his head and grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Besides, there are so many people here, we might not even see Tía Maria.”
They stepped out the door into the backyard. To the left was a play set that dozens of children were taking advantage of. To the right were several grills, all smoking away, the tables next to them already piled high with food and drink. And underneath sprawling oak trees dozens of picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up, all of them full of people talking, laughing, and eating together. 
“I knew you should have made that family tree for me,” T.K. said, starting to feel really nervous now as he saw exactly how many people had scattered across the backyard.
They made it about four feet before they were accosted by well meaning relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone seemed to want to meet Carlos’ new boyfriend. T.K. smiled and nodded and tried in vain to remember everyone’s names. Carlos hadn’t been exaggerating, there were a lot of Gabriels and Valentinas.
“Ay, okay, leave the boys alone,” a woman finally said, interrupting the melée. She sported a longer version of Carlos’ curls and T.K. remembered her face from some of the family photos. “Shame on all of you, they haven’t even eaten anything.”
She turned a warm smile on them as the crowd dispersed and went back to their merriment. “Hola T.K. I’m Teresa.”
Carlos’ oldest sister. She and her husband Javier lived in San Diego with their four kids, Valentina, Eva, Gabriel, and Bianca. Their visit to town was the reason the barbecue had been scheduled for this particular weekend. 
“Nice to meet you,” T.K. said, immediately feeling the same warmth and comfort radiate from her that he did from Carlos. 
She turned and pulled her brother in for a hug, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. “Come on. You can sit with us. I’ll fend off the nosy relatives,” she told them.
“Thank you,” Carlos said in relief. “I didn’t think it would be quite this bad.”
“You never do,” she said with a smile as she led them to the picnic table where her husband Javier was sitting with another couple that T.K. thought he recognized. 
“T.K. this is my husband Javier. And have you met Lucía and Justin yet?” Teresa asked.
Ah, Lucía. Carlos’ third oldest sister. She and Justin lived with their kids in McKinney and had driven up for the weekend. They had been set to attend the dinner with Elena and Elías but one of the boys had ended up in a soccer championship so they’d had to cancel. 
“So T.K. I hear you’re from New York? Nice to have another East Coaster join the party,” Justin said.
“Oh yeah, Carlos said you’re from Philly right?” T.K. asked.
“Born and bred,” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t cheer for the Giants do you?”
T.K. smiled. “I’m more of a Mets fan actually. Football’s not really my thing.”
“Well that means I don’t have to hate you, but don’t say that too loud in Texas. Football is life here,” Justin told him.
“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. replied.
“Tío Carlos!” a gaggle of kids ran up to the table all of them clamoring for Carlos. 
“Tío Carlos I got on my soccer team at school!”
“Can you come play baseball!”
“Did you know my tooth is falling out?”
“Is that your boyfriend?”
Everyone talked at once and Carlos seemed to take it in stride, giving hugs and ruffling hair, looking at loose teeth, and promising to come and play in a minute.
“Hey, all of you, adiós,” Elena said. “Leave Tío Carlos alone. He’ll play with you later.”
It took a few more admonishments from their parents, but eventually the children dispersed to different corners of the ranch. “We’re doing you a favor T.K.,” Lucía told him, rocking baby Nicolás back and forth. “Once Carlos goes with the children he doesn’t come back.”
“He’s their favorite uncle,” Justin explained.
“And for good reason,” Javier added. “His knees are young and spry.”
“You guys are exaggerating. The kids love everybody,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.
Teresa shook her head. “It’s okay to admit that you’re their favorite Carlos. You’ve earned the honor.” She looked at T.K. “Carlos is too modest.”
“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said fondly and he could see Carlos blush a little bit.
“Okay that’s enough of that,” Carlos said. “We’ve been here half an hour and no one has offered me any food. What has happened to this family?”
The situation was fixed immediately and T.K. found himself with more food than one person could possibly hope to consume, sitting and listening to the Reyes siblings recount stories from their childhood.
T.K. felt the bench next to him shift and turned to find Francesca and Adriana joining them.
“Did Carlos tell you about the time he ran away from home?” Teresa asked.
Carlos groaned. “No, do we have to tell this story every time?”
“Yes, because it’s hilarious,” Elena said. “He was what, about six at the time?”
“I was sixteen so yes,” Teresa said. “Carlitos was mad because all of us sisters got to go to a movie and he didn’t. So he wrote a note saying he was running away and never coming back.”
“And then he disappeared for seven hours,” Lucía chimed in. “Mom was beside herself. They checked the entire house, called all his friends, she was sure he’d been eaten by a coyote.”
“Well I was the one who found him,” Teresa said with a smile. “Up in that tree,” she pointed several feet to the left, “crying because he’d climbed up too high and couldn’t get down.”
“We had to call the fire department to come and get him,” Francesca said with a smirk.
“And when they got him down, did he get in trouble?” Elena asked. “Nope. Because Mama was all—“
“My baby!” all four women chorused together. 
“Carlitos never gets in trouble,” Adriana said. “Ever. All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at Tía Andrea and she starts talking about how innocent and sweet he is and how he could never start a fight or break a window…”
Carlos had put a hand to his forehead and looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you done now?” he asked.
“No way,” Lucía piped up. “We still have to tell T.K. about the time you drove the tractor into the pond.”
“The pedal was stuck!” Carlos cried.
“That’s what he says every time,” Francesca told T.K. “It’s a lie.”
Carlos burst forth in a tirade of Spanish, likely exonerating himself from the tractor-pond fiasco and all of the women immediately began to contradict him. T.K. wasn’t sure whether to smile or intervene as they all talked over each other. His high school level Spanish could only pick up the occasional word. 
“This happens every time,” Elías said. “They’ll calm down in a minute.”
“A minute?” Javier said. “Forget a minute. We can all leave, they’ll be at it for at least half an hour now.”
Things really came to a head when Francesca stood, slammed her hands against the table, and shouted, “I did not put that goat in Lucí’s bed, that was Elena!”
“I watched you do it!” Carlos yelled back.
“Well then your brain is broken because that is not what happened!” Francesca said, pointing a finger at him.
The argument was broken up by the arrival of Andrea, followed closely by another woman T.K. didn’t recognize. “Girls! Ya basta! Qué esta pasando? Arguing in front of our guests, what is wrong with you?” she said, setting a large plate of taquitos in front of them.
“Disculpa Mama,” they all muttered, but T.K. caught Francesca giving Carlos the finger under the table and then she jumped a second later when he pinched her leg.
“Honestly,” she scoffed at them. “I am ashamed of all of you. T.K. I apologize on behalf of my daughters. I did not raise them to be like this.”
“See?” Lucía said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re all in trouble, but Carlitos is completely innocent.”
“Of course he’s innocent, he would never argue in front of guests,” Andrea said. “Did you all say hello to Tía Maria?”
“Hola Tía,” they all chorused.
“And Maria, this is T.K., Carlos’ boyfriend,” Andrea said with a smile.
T.K. felt himself stiffen under the intense gaze of Carlos’ infamous aunt. But he smiled and waved a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said. She turned and looked at Teresa and Javier. “Cuándo será la primera comunión de Marco y Diego?"
T.K. caught a glimpse of Francesca who smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in an “I told you so” kind of way. 
“Later this summer,” Elena said smoothly. “We will send you an invitation of course.”
“They are a bit behind, no? Why the delay in this important milestone?”
“Tía, with Covid and everything it all just got pushed back. Don’t worry,” Elena told her.
“You’d better get a move on,” Adriana said. “We wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the blessings of the Lord.”
Tía Maria’s eyes narrowed as she picked up on Adriana’s sarcasm. “Is there something wrong with wanting my nephews to grow up properly in the church?”
“Of course not,” Andrea said quickly. “And they are Maria. Very good, pious little boys.”
T.K. saw the mischievous glint in Francesca’s eye as she opened her mouth. “So T.K., you live with your dad?” 
Everyone at the table froze and turned to look daggers in her direction. “Ah Maria! The watermelon! We forgot it inside, come on,” Andrea said quickly, glaring at her daughter over her shoulder as she ushered Maria away.
“Cesca!” Teresa chastised as soon as they were out of earshot.
“I was just trying to take the pressure off of Elena,” Francesca said innocently, taking a sip of her mojito.
“You were trying to stir up trouble,” Lucía said as the baby began to fuss. 
“Well someone has to keep things fun around here!”
“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Marco and Diego ran toward them, kicking up dirt as they skidded to a stop by the table and interrupted the conversation. 
“Mom can I have another cookie?” Marco asked.
“I want a drink but Carolina said I can’t have a soda, but can I?” Diego asked.
“And Tía Teresa, Gabriel wants to know, can he get his Switch out of the car now, because he said you said he could get it later and now it’s later,” Marco spoke up on behalf of his cousin.
“Okay, hold on, everybody take a breath,” Teresa said.
The group momentarily broke up as everyone went to tend to their children’s needs and make sure they had eaten something besides cookies and chips. 
“So, are you ready to run back to New York yet?” Carlos asked when they were the only two left at the table.
“I think I’m holding my own all right,” T.K. said. “You were right about Francesca though. She’s…something.”
Carlos rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not that actually was her being on her better behavior. I swear you’d never know she was working on a masters in biochemistry.”
“She’s fun,” T.K. said. “And she and Adriana clearly have the most dirt on Carlitos.”
“Maybe we should leave now,” Carlos said with a groan. “They’ll keep at it as long as you’ll listen.”
“I like it,” T.K. said, taking a sip of his mineral water. “It’s fun seeing you like this. Baby brother Carlos is a whole new side of you.”
Carlos blushed a little bit. “The way they’d talk you’d think we were all still kids.”
“It’s sweet. They adore you.”
“I—”
Carlos was interrupted by Valentina, Teresa and Javier’s youngest, who came running over, crying so hard she was hiccuping instead of breathing. “Tío Carlos!”
“Valentina, qué pasó?” Carlos asked worriedly, gathering her into his arms and sitting her on his lap.
“Marco me dijo que no podía jugar pelota con él,” she sobbed, her little heart so clearly broken over her cousin’s refusal to let her play ball with him.
"Lo siento, Valen. That's not very nice." Carlos hugged her close and kissed her hair. "Pero no le hagas caso. What if we get you a cookie, will that help?”
She shook her head, lip stuck out in an adorable pout, fresh tears threatening to spill over.
“Two cookies?”
She held up three little fingers and Carlos opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. “Tres?! Ay Dios mío.” He shook his head. “Come with me, pero no le digas a mamá.”
He slid Valentina off his lap and offered her his hand, which she grabbed onto eagerly. He looked at T.K. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” T.K. said, watching them walk over to one of the tables. 
Carlos pointed to several different options, Valentina shaking her head at each one until he found the kind of cookie she liked best.
T.K. felt a presence next to him and turned to find Francesca had returned. She had a strange look on her face. “You know he’s never brought anyone home before. Not like this.”
T.K.’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t know that.”
“He’s happy,” Francesca said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She turned and looked at him. “You make him happy.”
“I do my best,” T.K. said. “He makes me happy too.”
“Yeah.” She looked at her brother again, adding some fruit to Valentina’s plate. “He wants kids. You know that right?”
“I do,” T.K. said. 
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re good with that?”
T.K. looked at his boyfriend who was tenderly wiping the last of the tears from Valentina’s cheeks. They had talked about it of course. A few times. In passing. He knew where Carlos stood. And he knew that he wasn’t sure what kind of dad he would be, but also that he would do anything to make Carlos happy; including facing his own fears about being a father. “He’ll be a great dad,” was his answer.
She squinted at him, then squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to say this once and if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and shove your balls so far up your ass you won’t know how to get them out again. Carlos is special. And I know you’re all city boy, New York, squeaky clean, firefighter paramedic, or whatever.”
“But if I hurt him you’ll kill me?” T.K. asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No,” she looked at him like he was crazy. “Teresa will. She’s like his second mom. She’ll take you down so fast you’ll never even see it coming.”
T.K. laughed. “I have no intention of ever breaking his heart. I promise.”
“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” She cocked her head the way Carlos did when he was about to say something he knew was funny. “You’re pretty great for a stripper.”
“Okay, one more time. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work, but I have never been, and have no intention of being, a stripper,” T.K. said firmly.
“That’s what they all say!” she tossed over her shoulder as she got to her feet and flounced away to find Adriana. 
“What was my sister telling you?” Carlos asked as he returned, Valentina now seated happily with some other cousins at a kid sized picnic table. “Oh god, was she talking about the time I got arrested for skinny dipping in the lake because there is so much more to that story than the way she tells it.”
“No,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows, “but now I want to hear the rest of that. No she was just…being a good big sister. You’re lucky to have so many people watching out for you.”
Carlos softened, his hand seeking T.K.’s. “And now I have you too.”
T.K. squeezed gently. “Yes, you do.”
                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
All in all the day was going well. T.K. had handled every nosy question, every argument, every weird thing his sisters or relatives did with his usual charm and self-confidence. He fit in. 
All Carlos had really wanted was for T.K. to like his family, but seeing them like him right back…it was doing strange things to his heart. He hadn’t known until this moment how much it meant to gain his family’s approval of his relationship. He’d convinced himself that he was fine either way, and he probably would have been. But seeing them all joke and talk and laugh together was beyond his wildest dreams. And it was making him think some pretty crazy things about the future.
They’d chatted some more with his siblings and a few other family members who’d stopped by the table. But now Lucía had gone to put the baby down for a nap, and Teresa and Elena had been pressed into kitchen duty with his mother, while the men of the group had been enticed inside by a game on TV. Which left only Adriana and Francesca at the table. 
“So, T.K., now that the boring adults are gone, tell us everything,” Francesca said, a sneaky smile on her face.
“Ooh yes,” Adriana said, getting comfortable on the picnic bench. “Tell us all your dirty secrets T.K. You lived in New York so do you actually work for the mob? And how hard was it for you to learn to put gas in a car at such an advanced age?”
“Unfortunately no mob connections, although that probably pays better than firefighting or being a paramedic,” T.K. said with a laugh. “And the learning curve on driving was actually pretty quick. We have to fuel the engines, even in New York.”
“Well that’s boring,” Francesca said as she picked up a tamale. “Come on, you have to be more exciting than that. Any secret lovers you’re keeping back there on the side?”
“Cesca!” Carlos said sharply.
“I’m watching out for you!” Francesca cried. “I mean if you two have an open relationship or something that’s your business, but if he—”
“No,” T.K. said quickly. He looked at Carlos. “There’s no one in New York. Or anywhere else.”
Adriana and Francesca both wrinkled their noses, but Carlos hardly noticed, too busy looking at T.K. who was gazing at him with so much tenderness and love. He was taking it all in stride, the insanity, the prying. Questions that might have set him off a year or two ago he now brushed off like it was no big deal.
“Ugh, come on!” Adriana said. “There has to be something. You basically grew up on the set of Gossip Girl. You have to know at least one Kardashian or something.”
“Yes, how many private helicopter rides have there been?” Francesca asked eagerly. “Or penthouse ragers? You have to have been to a penthouse rager of someone famous!”
T.K. shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Adriana pouted. “So boring. Not one secret?”
“Oh, I have secrets,” T.K. said with a grin. He laced his hand through Carlos’. “But only Carlos gets to know them.”
“You play dirty, Strand,” Francesca told him with an approving smile. 
Carlos had had enough. “Come on,” he said, pulling T.K. to his feet and away from the women without a backward glance or apology. 
“Where are we going?” T.K. asked and Carlos wished the answer was a dark corner somewhere that he could kiss his boyfriend’s face off and show him how much he appreciated his efforts today. But that would not be happening anywhere on the premises. Francesca and Adriana could sniff out a couple having a quickie from a mile away. They’d caught Teresa and Javier in a Sunday School classroom during Elena and Elías’ wedding and had never let them forget it. Although Bianca had been born nine months later so apparently getting caught hadn’t been too much of a turn off. He definitely wasn’t risking it though. 
He pulled T.K. over to the patio where the music had cranked up to an all time high now that his cousin Rafael had arrived and was playing DJ.
“Okay,” T.K. said, looking nervous all over again. “You know I can’t really dance right? That first night at the bar, that was all just to get in your pants, you know that right?”
“What?” Carlos feigned surprise and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. And considering that you managed to get into my pants about half an hour later, I’d say it worked pretty well.”
“Not the point Carlos.”
“I’ve seen you dance. You’re fine,” Carlos told him.
“Yes in the club!” T.K. told him, eyes wide as he took in the way some of Carlos’ relatives were dancing around them. “This is like something out of Grease! Did you all rehearse this before you got here?”
“Look, Justin’s dancing.” Carlos nodded to where Lucí had managed to get a moment free from her children and pulled her husband onto the impromptu dance floor. 
“Justin’s been in your family for five years. He’s had practice.”
“You’re just going to follow my lead,” Carlos told him confidently as he pulled T.K. close. “Relax.”
“I can’t relax. Your Tía Maria looks like she’s about to come over here and remind us to leave room for the Holy Spirit,” T.K. hissed.
“Like I said earlier, I don’t care what Tía Maria thinks. I haven’t for a long time. I just want to dance with you.” He cocked his head and turned on his most charming smile, eyes pleading a little bit.
T.K. rolled his eyes and groaned. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”
“Exactly,” Carlos allowed himself a full on smirk.
He put one hand on T.K.’s shoulder, the other on his hip and gave a comforting little squeeze. “And now you just follow my lead.”
He took a half a step forward, slowly, not following the music at all, encouraging T.K. to step back with his opposite foot. They managed fine for about three beats until T.K. stepped wrong and they stumbled over one another’s feet. “Sorry,” he said, face going slightly pink. “I told you.”
“You’re tense,” Carlos said. “You can’t dance when you’re tense. Relax. It’s all in the hips.”
“I’m from New York. I barely have hips at all, let alone beautiful, sexy, latin caderas like yours.”
Carlos laughed and bumped up against T.K. with said caderas. “You like my caderas?”
“You know I love your hips and normally I wouldn’t complain about anything you do with them, but everyone is staring at us.”
“They are not.” Carlos took a quick glance around the area and found that indeed, many of his relatives were staring, and he could read wedding bells going off in their eyes. “Okay they are but that’s because they’re nosy, not because of your dancing. Don’t worry about them. Focus on me.”
“Just don’t blame me if I break your toes,” T.K. said nervously.
“I think I’ll survive,” Carlos told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Completely off your game,” Carlos told him. “You never approach anything with less than one hundred percent confidence and charm.”
“Well I only do things I’m one hundred percent confident in,” T.K. said. “That way I never have to look like I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Ahhh, now it all makes sense,” Carlos said with a laugh.
The music changed and Carlos shifted so that they were closer together, one hand entwined with T.K.’s, the other on his lower back. “So. Tell me the truth. How glad are you that your dad didn’t come today?”
T.K. laughed. “Oh god so glad. You know how he is. He and your sisters would have spent the entire day trying to one up each other on embarrassing stories about us. And he might have won.”
“Oh I doubt that. We’ve got about two more hours until my sisters bring up the bathtub incident.”
T.K.’s eyes widened. “The bathtub incident?”
“Let’s just say it was very expensive and mostly Francesca’s fault.”
“You know, your sisters seem to take a lot of the blame in these stories even though you have a starring role in all of them. I’m starting to wonder who’s really telling the truth here.”
“Shh,” Carlos said, pulling him a little closer. “I’m a cop. I’m very trustworthy.”
“Uh huh.” T.K. looked amused.
“Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
Carlos leaned forward so his lips were touching T.K.’s ear. “You’re dancing.”
And indeed he was, their bodies swaying back and forth, T.K. following all of Carlos’ movements without any trouble. T.K. opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the reappearance of Adriana. “I take it back,” she said, causing them both to pause their movement.
“Take what back?” Carlos asked in confusion.
“There’s no way he’s a stripper. Not with dance moves like that. Yikes.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” T.K. said.
“Good,” she said, giving him a mischievous wink. “I like to keep people guessing. Now step aside gringo and let us show you how it’s done.”
She grabbed Carlos’ hand and before he could protest she’d pulled him out to the center of the dance floor, yelling at Rafael to put on something they could really move to. Rafael smoothly transitioned into a song Carlos recognized and Adriana grinned as she began to salsa, clearly expecting him to partner her. He rolled his eyes, but obliged, catching her around the waist and moving back and forth in time with her.
“We approve,” she said as he spun her back and forth.
“Of my dancing?” Carlos asked.
“No, of T.K.,” she said with a smile. “We really like him. Me and all your sisters.”
It should not have warmed his soul so much to hear the words, but it did anyway. “Good,” Carlos said. “Is that why you pulled me out here? To tell me you like him?”
“No, I pulled you out here so he could check out your ass while you dance,” she said, looking over his shoulder, her grin widening. “Which he totally is by the way.”
“Adriana, shut up,” Carlos said, but he smiled anyway and dipped her, really letting loose as the music hit the chorus. Because apparently he was not above showing off for his boyfriend.
By the time the song ended he was sweating and breathless and so was Adriana. “You’ve still got it cousin,” she said. “Now go on. Go over there and take a victory lap with your boyfriend and his puppy dog eyes.”
Carlos looked over to find T.K. looking suitably impressed at the edge of the patio. Carlos shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as he walked over. “Well someone’s been holding out on me,” T.K. said when Carlos got close.
“It’s just dancing,” Carlos said.
“Just dancing? Carlos that looked like…I don’t even know, but it was freaking amazing!” T.K. said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. Why are you over here dancing with me?”
Carlos rolled his eyes and pulled T.K. close to him. “Trust me, Adriana might be a state champion in Salsa, but I prefer dancing with you any day.”
“She’s a state champion?” T.K. asked in surprise.
“Yep,” Carlos said, pulling him back onto the dance floor. “Three years in a row.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, Adriana is good at pretty much anything she decides to be good at. It’s a little ridiculous.”
“That doesn’t explain where your dance moves came from,” T.K. said, looking expectant.
“I um,” Carlos thought for a half second about lying before he decided to give in and tell the truth. “I may have partnered her for a few years.”
“How long is a few?”
Carlos sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. “Like fourth through seventh grade.”
T.K.’s jaw dropped. He pointed a finger at Carlos’ chest. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that!”
“Well it’s not like it’s relevant to everyday conversation! When would it have ever come up?”
“I don’t know!” T.K. shook his head. “What made you stop?”
Carlos shrugged. “I’m good, but I’m not championship level good. And I was getting into baseball. And Adriana is…really difficult to work with.”
“Carlos! T.K.!” They both turned to find a very welcome presence interrupting their conversation.
“Tía Luci,” Carlos said, pulling back from T.K. so he could give her a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“Well you know I had a date querido. T.K. mi amor! It’s so good to see you!” The many bracelets she was wearing jangled loudly as she hugged T.K. with equal fervor. 
T.K. had been to several Sunday dinners at this point and Tía Luci had accepted him exactly the way Carlos hoped she would, with nothing less than complete and total love. She’d always encouraged Carlos to be exactly who he was and love whoever he desired. It helped of course that she’d had four husbands of her own and was currently single and dating with astonishing frequency.
“It’s good to see you too Tía Luci,” T.K. said with a smile.
“I thought mom said you had a pottery class,” Carlos said.
“I had a date at pottery class,” she said and then leaned closer. “And the clay wasn’t the only thing that got handled, if you catch my meaning.”
Carlos’ cheeks burned as T.K. laughed. His aunt was a free spirit and that meant she was pretty free with most things. Including her sex life. And while Carlos didn’t judge, he definitely didn’t always need all the…details she provided.
“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “It’s not like you’re a saint either, sobrino. With a boyfriend like this you must get up to all kinds of nonsense. And if you’re not you should start. You’re only young once!” Someone caught her attention and she waved. “I must go see Alejandro, but you two have fun dancing.”
“How about we run away to New York together?” Carlos asked as she floated away.
“You love her,” T.K. said knowingly.
“I do. But I don’t need to know every detail of her dating life. And no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t quite seem to get the message.”
“Seems like Francesca and Adriana come by it honestly,” T.K. said. “Oversharing runs in the gene pool.”
“Yes along with nosiness, a strong desire to meddle, and a life long obsession with the Astros,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.
“And yet somehow you have none of those qualities,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he was being sarcastic.
“Me?” Carlos said. “What are you talking about? I don’t do any of those things.”
“Maybe not so overtly. But when you found out Mateo’s house had blown up, you organized all those donations to help out him and his roommates.”
“Because it was the right thing to do!”
“Of course it was. But it was also meddling. Kind meddling. But meddling. And we’ve talked about the cow eyes.”
“What do the cow eyes have to do with anything?” Carlos asked, slightly annoyed.
“When you want to know something that I don’t want to share, you waste no time turning them on. And you know that neither I, nor anyone else can resist. Nosiness.”
“That’s not nosy! It’s…digging for information.”
“Information your chosen suspect may or may not want to share. The suspect being me. Admit it Carlos. You’re more like your family than you’d like to believe.”
“I—“ Carlos struggled to come up with a reply. “I don’t like that you’re siding with my sisters. That was not the point of bringing you here. You’re supposed to back me up.”
“Oh I will never speak to your sisters about this,” T.K. told him. “I’ve got your back. I just want you to know that I know.”
Carlos opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a small body hurtling into his legs so hard he almost fell over. “Tío Carlos!” Marco practically yelled. “You said you would come in an hour. It’s been more than an hour. Will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease come throw the ball with me? You promised!”
Carlos looked a T.K. who smiled and nodded toward Marco. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone with my sisters after what you just said. I’m scared about what other things they might put into your head.”
T.K. laughed and gave him a little push. “Go. I’ll try not to be swayed further to their side.”
“You heard him! Go! Go!” Marco pushed Carlos from behind over toward the grassy area past the picnic tables.
“Marco, Marco, relax,” Carlos said, breaking away from his nephew’s aggressive pushing. 
“I waited all day,” Marco told him with a glare.
“And you’re going to wait longer if you’re not polite,” Carlos told him.
Marco looked only slightly chastened. “Sorry.”
“Mhmm.” Carlos tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have a ball and a glove?”
“Yes!” Marco ran ahead and grabbed them off a picnic table. “Here. This one’s yours. Abuelo got it out of the garage for me.”
Sure enough it was Carlos’ high school mitt. It was beyond worn out, but it would do for a quick round of catch before he rescued his boyfriend from the clutches of whichever sister had decided to grill him next. 
“Okay you go over there and I’ll go over here,” Marco said excitedly, running several yards away, ball clutched in his hand.
His first throw took Carlos by surprise. “Whoa! You’re getting really good at that,” Carlos said as he tossed it back.
“Dad says I might make the travel team this year,” Marco said excitedly as he delivered another throw that made Carlos’ palm sting.
“Yeah I think you’ve got a good shot at it,” Carlos told him. “How’s your fast ball?”
“So good! But I have to work on my curve ball. It doesn’t always go the right way.”
“Ah, I’ve got a trick for that. Let me show you.”
It didn’t take long for all of Carlos’ nieces and nephews to realize he had left the adult table and was available for fun. After he finished with Marco, a game of tag was requested by his other nephews. Then Bianca and Elena wanted to show him the crafts they’d been working on and make him a friendship bracelet which he immediately put around his wrist. 
Nearly an hour had gone by and Carlos began to look around for his boyfriend, feeling guilty for having left him alone for so long. But just as he began making his way back to the picnic tables, Carolina found him and wanted to tell him all about a school project she’d finished recently.
One minute he was chatting with her about orca whales and the next something was colliding with his skull, hard and fast. He felt his head snap to the side, fingers automatically going to touch the spot directly behind his ear.
Carolina had frozen her eyes wide. “Tío Carlos? Estás bien?” she asked tentatively.
The world seemed to tilt and he sank down slowly onto a picnic bench, fingers fumbling against the weathered wood as he tried to aim successfully and not miss and fall to the ground instead. “Sorry!” Marco called, running over. 
Oh. The baseball. That’s what had hit him. That explained the extreme throbbing that had started and why he could already feel a knot growing at the site of impact.
“You hit Tío Carlos right in the head!” Carolina scolded.
“I didn’t mean to!” Marco protested back. “I just threw it, that’s all! I was working on my curveball! It wasn’t my fault!”
“It’s nobody’s fault,” Carlos said calmly, even though his vision was starting to blur at the corners. “It was an accident.”
“See? It’s fine!” Marco told her. 
“I’m telling Mom!”
“No you’re not!”
The two continued to squabble and Carlos closed his eyes as their raised voices cut through his skull like a knife. “Carolina,” he interrupted finally. “Can you go find T.K. for me? Tell him I need to ask him something.”
“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at Marco. “I’m still telling mom,” she hissed, causing him to take off after her as she ran away.
Carlos swallowed against the sudden queasiness in his stomach. He was regretting the number of tamales he’d eaten now.
The sunlight was really starting to hammer into his skull so he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach from becoming violent. A hand on his knee startled him. “Carlos?” T.K.’s voice was quiet and concerned. 
Carlos opened his eyes and found his boyfriend or rather, several blurry versions of his boyfriend, looking up at him. “Hey,” he said quietly. Even talking seemed to hurt his rattled brain.
“Are you okay? Carolina said something about a baseball.”
“It was an accident,” Carlos said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Okay,” T.K. said slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation and read between the lines of what his boyfriend wasn’t telling him. “Where did it hit you?”
Carlos took another slow breath in through his nose as his stomach clenched. “Behind my ear.”
“Which side, this side?” T.K. asked, lifting a hand and gently probing at Carlos’s skull.
His fingers found the knot almost immediately and even though his touch was gentle it sent a stab of pain shooting through Carlos and his stomach lurched. He jerked away, unsuccessful in suppressing a tight lipped moan.
“Okay, hey I need you to talk to me, all right?” T.K. said, his voice going serious as his fingers instinctively sought the pulse point on Carlos’ wrist. “How bad is your pain?”
Carlos had had concussions before; you couldn’t play varsity baseball without the occasional injury. This was ten times worse than he remembered. “Like a seven?” His voice was shaky and opening his mouth at all felt like a huge risk given the discontent happening in his stomach. “And there are about four of you right now.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me your name?”
Carlos squinted at him. “Are you really asking me that?”
“Answer please,” T.K. said, eyes serious.
“Carlos Nicolás Reyes Moreno.”
“And where are we?” 
“My parents’ ranch.”
“Good. And what’s your badge number?”
Carlos opened his mouth and found his mind strangely blank. “I—”
“You can’t remember?” T.K. asked.
“I—no.” He felt panic start to well up in his throat. “T.K…”
“It’s okay,” T.K. said calmly, gently cupping the non-injured side of his face. “You’re going to be all right. But we need to go to the hospital, okay?”
“Oh god,” Carlos groaned partly from pain and queasiness and partly from panic. “Any chance we can sneak out of here without telling my family?”
“Oh, babe, I think that ship has sailed,” T.K. said sympathetically.
“Carlitos? What happened?” Andrea approached at a rapid pace, the Reyes sisters flanking her along with Adriana, Tía Maria, and Tía Luci. He was sure his father wasn’t far behind.
Even as pain clawed at the inside of his skull Carlos tried to assuage their fears. “I’m fine, just a little accident,” he managed.
“Carolina said Marco hit you in the head,” Elena said worriedly. 
“Head injuries are very serious,” Tía Luci told them. “I once dated a tennis player who got a concussion.”
“He got hit with a tennis ball?” Elena asked.
“No, we got a little overly enthusiastic in the bedroom. No half assed sex from that one!”
Carlos heard Tía Maria start muttering a prayer.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Is he all right?” Predictably Gabriel had caught up with the group, a large grill spatula still in his hand.
“Let’s just give him a little room to breathe,” T.K. said calmly, holding up a hand to keep them from coming in closer to smother him with concern. “Francesca if you could go get me some ice and a towel please.”
She disappeared in an instant toward the back of the house.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Teresa asked.
“I am fine,” Carlos insisted again, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. He would be. As soon as he was away from his coddling family and in his bed at home.
“Carlitos you be quiet and listen to your boyfriend. He is a professional,” Andrea scolded, worry coloring the sharpness of her tone.
“Yes, T.K., what does he need?” Gabriel asked.
“We’re going to get some ice on here and go from there,” T.K. said. “I don’t think an ambulance is necessary at this point.”
Francesca returned with ice and a towel. “Thank you,” T.K. said, wrapping the ice up tightly and then ever so gently pressing it against Carlos’ head.
He hissed in pain, knuckles gripping the edge of the picnic bench so hard he felt splinters of wood begin to dig into his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” T.K. murmured sympathetically. “We need to try and get the swelling down.”
“It’s okay,” Carlos said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his head to hurt more, but the added coldness of the ice was proving to be too much and he felt the tight hold he had on his composure starting to slip. He wanted to leave, he wanted to lie down and sleep, he wanted T.K. to hold him while he cried like a baby because everything hurt like a motherfucker and he was embarrassed as hell about it. 
His family was still carrying on around him, he could hear them asking questions and making plans, but all he focused on was T.K.’s free hand, the one that wasn’t pressing ice to his skull. That hand was resting comfortingly on his knee, thumb moving slowly back and forth. Thank god T.K. was here to mitigate the chaos.
He didn’t realize he was starting to drift away until T.K.’s hand squeezed his knee more tightly and then moved up to his shoulder, keeping him upright. “Hey, hey, no, don’t go to sleep,” he said urgently.
Right. Sleep was not a good idea. Carlos forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s worried face, but it swam in front of him and made his stomach churn. “T.K…”
“I’ve got you,” T.K. said firmly. He turned and looked up at Andrea and Gabriel who had come to hover a little closer. “We need to get him to the hospital.”
“I’ll drive you,” Andrea said immediately.
“You’re entertaining all these guests mi amor,” Gabriel said. “You stay, I’ll take the boys.”
“We’re all coming,” Lucía said immediately.
Carlos felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of his entire family standing around in the hospital waiting room and the kind of chaos that would cause. He didn’t need to worry though. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” T.K. said quickly. “There’s no reason to believe this is anything more serious than a concussion. It will be quick, not worth everyone coming out.”
“I will update you the entire time,” Gabriel promised.
“Text messages every five minutes,” Andrea ordered.
“Can you stand?” T.K. asked and Carlos nodded his affirmative, immediately regretting the motion when the throbbing in his skull increased.
T.K. took his arm and Carlos got up on wobbly legs. He made it about two steps before his knees began to give out and he felt his father grab his other arm. “Steady mijo,” Gabriel said.
It seemed like an eternity before they passed through the house and into the front driveway. Out of sight of his family Carlos felt the last of his control slip away. The blood drained from his face and he gagged. 
“Whoa!” T.K. said, quickly lowering him to the ground as he began to heave out the contents of his stomach onto the concrete.
By the time it was over Carlos’ pain had ratcheted up to somewhere in the nines and he heard himself letting out a pathetic whimper as his brain exploded inside of his skull. “Easy Carlitos, easy,” his father said, the words barely registering as he and T.K. lifted Carlos back onto his feet and basically carried him the rest of the way to his dad’s truck.
He ended up with his head in T.K.’s lap, his boyfriend continuing to hold ice against his head with one hand, while the other ran soothingly up and down his arm. “Stay awake for me, all right?” he said.
“Trying,” Carlos said, his voice sounding cracked and broken. Mostly he was trying to breathe because he really didn’t want to throw up again. Every bump in the road, every touch of the breaks, sent pain ricocheting through his head. “It really hurts.”
“I know, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there,” T.K. said softly. “You’re all right, keep breathing, okay?”
Gabriel pulled directly up to the ER doors and he and T.K. helped Carlos into a wheelchair. If he’d been in any less pain he would have found the entire thing humiliating, but every bit of his energy was currently being spent on staying awake and not vomiting all over the floor.
“I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Gabriel said as T.K. pushed him through the doors.
The next few hours were a hellish blur. They ran a battery of tests including an MRI and a CT scan, asked him dozens of questions, all of which he was able to answer thank god.
Despite his best efforts, he threw up twice more, T.K. holding a basin in front of his face each time, then rubbing his back comfortingly as he curled into a ball, knives stabbing through his head after such violent movement.
He hated being reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, especially in front of his father, but there was no help for it. The pain was only growing worse and there was no relief in sight, not until the tests came back.
“Breathe,” T.K. said, running a thumb back and forth over Carlos’ hand. “Carlos you have to breathe and try to relax.”
“I can’t.” The words came out on a whimper. “It hurts.”
“Carlitos, you have to try,” his dad said, sounding beyond concerned. “The more tense you are the worse it will feel.”
Tears slid down his cheeks as the pounding in his head beat on relentlessly. It had been hours and there was never any relief to the waves of pain, just a constant throbbing, knifelike agony. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, ragged, stuttering breaths tearing from his chest.
“I’m going to go find the nurse,” Gabriel said. “My wife and daughters might be better at nagging, but I’m sure I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
He disappeared out the door and the next thing Carlos knew the bed was shifting as T.K. climbed in with him, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos’ body. “What are you doing?” Carlos choked out.
“Taking care of you,” he said, his lips by Carlos’ ear. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe. Just a little bit longer and we’ll get you some medication. I promise.”
T.K.’s fingers stroked up and down his arm and he continued to murmur soothing words into Carlos’ ear. Carlos felt his muscles slowly begin to unclench one at a time. The agony in his skull began to ease, just enough that he could breathe easier and think a little more clearly.
His dad must have given someone a piece of his mind because within fifteen minutes the doctor had returned. “Okay, Mr. Reyes we are looking at a grade two concussion here. All your scans came back clear so while painful, your recovery should be pretty easy.”
“No brain bleed?” T.K. asked.
“No. No brain bleed, no skull fracture.”
He could see T.K. and his father sag in relief. They were both putting on a good front, trying to be strong for him, but in that moment the worry in the room finally lifted off like a cloud, dissipating into calm.
“We’re going to keep you for a little bit, start you on some strong Tylenol to help manage the pain. I’ll come check on you in an hour okay?”
It was another two hours before they were finally able to go home, Gabriel dropping them off with promises to bring Carlos’ car over in the morning.
He was more steady on his feet now and the medication had helped both his headache and the nausea, so with T.K.’s help he was able to manage the stairs without too much difficulty.
T.K. sat him on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can do it,” Carlos said, but his boyfriend gave him a stern look and continued. 
This behavior persisted until Carlos was settled in bed, an extra pillow behind his head, a glass of water on the nightstand along with additional Tylenol. “Better?” T.K. asked as Carlos leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.
“Yeah,” Carlos told him. The lights were dim, causing his splitting headache to dull to a throbbing one instead. 
He heard his phone buzz for the thousandth time in the last few hours. “Do you want to see who that is?”
He couldn’t look at the screen without feeling like someone had stabbed a knife through his eyes. Hopefully that would pass quickly. It was only a grade two concussion and most of his pain was coming from the actual injury itself, not his brain rattling around in his skull.
T.K. punched in Carlos’ passcode and then scrolled through. “You have forty seven unread texts. Most of them are from your sisters. A few from your mom and aunts. And one reminding you to vote next week.”
Carlos groaned. “You’d think I was dying. This isn’t even as bad as the time Elías flipped the four wheeler over while we were on vacation. He broke his leg in two places and had to have surgery and nobody was all over him.”
“Oh, the texts aren’t about you,” T.K. said, eyes lighting up with mirth.
Carlos squinted at him. “I’m confused then.”
T.K. cleared his throat. “You listen to T.K. and do what he says. That one is from Teresa.” He scrolled a little further. “Congratulations on picking someone who’s not a dick. He actually comes in handy, that’s Adriana.” He snorted. “And this one from Francesca just says, ‘Remember not to fuck again until your brain is better.’”
“You know, Tía Maria campaigned pretty hard to send her to a convent when she was a teenager. Some days I think we should have let her,” Carlos said.
“The rest are variations on how great I am and how you need to eat a lot of soup and get a lot of rest. And I have a text from your mom.”
Carlos cracked one eye to look at him. “Are you going to share?”
“Mm…I’m not sure you can handle this one.”
T.K. was grinning from ear to ear, clearly beyond proud of himself and delighted to have information Carlos didn’t. 
“T.K. just read it. I can see that smug look on your face.”
He cleared his throat. “T.K. thank you for taking care of our Carlitos. You are such a blessing to our family.” T.K. grinned. “They like me.”
“Of course they like you.”
“They really like me.”
“Yes, T.K. My family loves you. Just like I always knew they would.”
“Well I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to get hit in the head with a baseball just so I could endear them to me with my paramedic skills.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Marco,” Carlos said. “He’s the one with an arm like a Major League baseball player.”
“Yeah he can really throw huh?” T.K. said, brushing a gentle hand through Carlo’s curls, careful to avoid the area the ball had struck. “How’s your pain?”
“Tolerable,” Carlos said. 
“And the nausea?”
“Better,” Carlos said. 
“Good.” T.K. seemed relieved. “Listen, next time you want to get out of a family activity, you can just tell me. You don’t need to give yourself a grade two concussion. Just say the word and I will fake an emergency and get us out of there.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t fake an emergency after hour one,” Carlos said. “Thank you for today. You getting along with my family it…” Tears threatened to close his throat and he forced them back because he really wanted T.K. to know what he was feeling. “It means everything.”
“They’re easy to get along with,” T.K. said. “And we have a lot in common.”
“Oh?”
“We all love you.”
36 notes · View notes
marauders-venting · 3 years
Text
Our Last Summer (Part 1)
pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)
genre: fluff & angst
warnings: none
words: 2267
note: based on the song ‘Our Last Summer’ by ABBA
a/n: this isn’t the whole thing but I haven’t finished it yet and it’s getting really long anyway so I decided to just post it in parts (i know it says fluff & angst and there’s no angst here but be patient it will come)
I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. Walks along the Seine laughing in the rain, our last summer, memories that remain… I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. In the tourist jam round the Notre Dame our last summer walking hand in hand
Sirius woke up smiling. Remus’ arm was still draped over him. He turned around and kissed him on the nose.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” Remus groans.
“Sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” Remus says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I like waking up next to you.” Sirius’ smile widened.
“I like waking up next to you too,” he said. He kisses Remus softly before turning to grab his wand off his bedside table and Summoning two cups of tea. He hands one to Remus and then opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a large packet of dark chocolate.
“Happy anniversary,” Sirius says, giving Remus the chocolate.
“Best present ever,” Remus says, taking a bite; Sirius can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.
“The day is just beginning,” he says, sipping his tea.
“Really? So what do you have planned?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Sirius says mysteriously.
---------
“No way,” Remus said, shaking his head. “There is no fucking way I’m getting on that death trap.”
“Yes you are,” Sirius said, taking his hand and pulling him closer to the motorcycle. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“No,” Remus said. “Why can’t we just Apparate? Or take a taxi?”
“What’s a taxi?” Sirius asked.
“I swear to god, I’ve already told you at least five times,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Well, it doesn’t matter because we’re riding my motorcycle,” Sirius said.
“Nope,” Remus said. “Not fucking happening.”
“Please,” Sirius pouted. “It’s not illegal, I have a license. And I promise I won’t fly. I’ll stay on the ground the whole time.” Remus still looked hesitant. “I even customised your helmet myself.” He pulled out a black helmet with ‘Moony’ written on the side in flaming block letters. It brought a little smile to Remus’ face.
“Ugh fine,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “But this is a one-time thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, if you say so,” Sirius said. “Now come.” They climbed on the motorcycle and Remus wrapped his hands around Sirius’ waist. “Normally I would say hold on tight,” Sirius said, “but if you hold any tighter you might just squeeze me to death.”
“And if I don’t hold this tight I might just fall to my death,” Remus replied. “Now shut up and drive; I want to get this over with.”
And suddenly, they’re on the road and holy fuck Remus is terrified. He’s resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder watching the cars around them. He squints his eyes, trying to make everything appear blurry (hoping it’ll make this a little less terrifying) and yes, he’s afraid but he has to admit that the blur of lights from all the cars is actually quite beautiful. That is, until they climb on the highway and Sirius picks up the speed. Now it’s just terrifying. Remus closes his eyes and buries his head in the crook of Sirius’ neck. The smell of Sirius and the feel of his beating pulse calms Remus down a little. He knows Sirius wouldn’t suggest this if it was that dangerous; Sirius would never let anything bad happen to him.
Remus doesn’t open his eyes until he feels them slowing to a stop. When he does finally look around, he finds himself in the parking lot of what looks like a small park.
“Hey,” Sirius says, reaching a hand back and stroking Remus’ thigh. “Are you ok?”
“I’m alive, if that’s what you mean,” Remus says, letting go of Sirius so he can climb off the motorcycle. Sirius helps Remus down and takes his helmet.
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Yes, it was that fucking bad,” Remus says. “I’m never riding that thing again.”
“Hey, ‘that thing’ has a name, you know,” Sirius said, arms crossed.
“Right, sorry,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “I’m never riding Elvendork again.”
“Wow, I can’t believe you actually remembered their name,” Sirius said, laughing.
“I can’t believe you actually named your motorcycle,” Remus said. “Now tell me what we’re doing here.”
“Come with me,” Sirius said, pulling him by the hand into the park.
“Where are we?” Remus asks, looking around.
“You’ll see,” Sirius said. He led Remus to the far end of the park where several bushes and trees made a hedge that seemed to show the end of the park. Sirius got on his hands and knees and pushed the plants out of his way as he crawled into the hedge.
“Are you serious right now?” Remus asked. As soon as the word was out of his mouth he regretted it.
“I’m always Sirius,” came the reply. “Now come on.” Remus sighed and crawled through the hedge. When he came out on the other side he saw Sirius sitting on the grass.
“What is this place?” Remus asked, looking around. If he was being honest, it looked like a little heaven. Everything was so green. The grass, the trees, the hedge they came through. It looked like something out of a painting. The colourful flowers from the trees littered the floor; Remus picked one up, walked over to Sirius and put it in his hair.
“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Sirius said, effectively surprising Remus. “I know hardly any of my stories start like that but when I was… 9, I think, my cousin Andromeda was 15. And one summer she came over to our house and she asked my parents if she could take me somewhere. I don’t know what lie she told them but whatever it was they bought it. She brought me here. She told me that a friend of hers at school had shown her this place. His dad was a park ranger and he used to come here all the time as a kid. It was just close enough to my house that we could walk here and we’d spend all day playing here. She even learnt how to use muggle money so she could buy us food.”
“The last time we did it was the year before I started Hogwarts. She was seventeen then. She showed me magic. It was incredible. She did all kinds of spells to make plants grow and stuff. It was awesome. I’d never seen magic so… raw before. It was beautiful. But then she ran away with Ted Tonks and got burnt off the tapestry so there was no way my parents would let me see her. But she wrote to me a few times to tell me to meet her here. That was how I met Ted for the first time. Turns out he was actually the one who showed Andie this place. And I met Nymphadora here as well. I used to come here alone sometimes too. I tried to bring Regulus with me once but he was scared we’d get caught. The only good memories from my childhood… they’re all from this place. I just wanted to show it to you. I mean, you took me to your childhood home but… I mean you’ve seen the Potters’ house a million times. But I guess I wasn’t really a child by the time I moved there. So I guess… I don’t know, I just wanted to share this with you.”
“Thank you,” Remus said, taking Sirius’ hand and pressing his lips to the back of his hand, “for bringing me here, I mean. This place is beautiful. Are you the only one who knows about it?”
“Oh, I doubt it,” Sirius said. “I mean, it’s not very visible but there’s no way that nobody else has ever found this place. But it was always empty whenever I came here. Which wasn’t that often I suppose.” Sirius flopped back onto the grass, dragging Remus with him. They lay on their backs looking at the sky, hands still clasped together.
“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Remus said. Sirius shrugged. It was true; the clouds had been dark all day and the smell of approaching downpour lingered in the air. But Sirius had been keeping his fingers crossed that the rain would wait until later tonight so that he could carry out his plans without any disruption.
“You hungry? We could go get some food if you want. There are muggle shops nearby. But you’ll have to handle the money cause I still have no clue how to do that.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, if Andromeda could learn I’m sure you can too,” Remus said, as they left their little garden of Eden. “Come on, I’ll teach you.” They walked down the street looking for a coffee shop or a food vendor nearby. They found a bakery selling sandwiches so they bought two, Remus bought tea, Sirius bought coffee, and they returned to the hidden corner of the park.
“Do you get how to use the money now?” Remus asked as they walked back.
“You’ve taught me a million times, Moony, it never sticks,” Sirius said. “You just have to resign yourself to the fact that your boyfriend is a dumb bitch, no matter how hot he is.”
“Oh don’t worry, I accepted your lack of intelligence and general common sense a long time ago, Pads,” Remus said, putting an arm around Sirius as they sat back down on the grass, pulling the sandwiches out of the paper bag and laying everything out on the floor in front of them.
“No, no, you’ve got it wrong,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “I am intelligent but I’m still a dumb bitch too.”
“You’re saying you’re an oxymoron?”
“Wait, I never say I was a moron—”
“No, not a moron, an oxymoron.”
“What does that mean?” Sirius asked.
“It’s like something that juxtaposes itself,” Remus said.
“Juxta-what now?” Sirius said. Remus rolled his eyes.
“You need to read more. It’s something that contradicts itself. Phrases like awfully nice or saying that someone was found missing.”
“Oh,” Sirius said. “So yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You’re so smart, Moony. You know so many big words.”
“Literally just pick up a book,” Remus said, laughing and kissing him softly. “I promise, it’ll do you wonders.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“Oh we’ve circled back to that now, have we?”
---------
That was how they spent most of the day. Talking, laughing, joking, kissing, lying on the grass. It seemed like the day really was going to be perfect. Until it started raining. At first, the drops were light and they weren’t bothered by it, but soon the rain became heavy and loud and they were both getting soaked. Remus didn’t mind getting wet; he had bigger worries on his mind.
“We’re not riding a motorcycle in the rain, are we?” Remus asked, his concern leaking through his voice.
“We can wait for the rain to stop if you like,” Sirius said. “Hey, you know, it’s actually good that we came here on Elvendork because we can cut through the traffic on our way home.”
“What? No, no, no, no, no,” Remus said, shaking his head. “There’s no way that’s safe.”
“It’s perfectly safe, Moony, I’ve done it a million times,” Sirius insisted. “Just keep your eyes closed like you did before. It was cuter like that anyway.” Remus felt himself blush.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said out of the blue. “I didn’t know it would rain.” He looked genuinely upset; Remus wasn’t sure why.
“Of course you didn’t know, Pads,” Remus laughed. “You can’t control the weather. Everything will be fine. We’ll just wait out the rain before riding home.”
“That’s not what I—” Sirius started, “never mind.”
“What is it?” Remus asked, covering Sirius’ hand with his own.
“I just… I wanted everything to be perfect today. I’m sorry I ruined our anniversary.”
“Ruin it? Sirius, what are you talking about? You didn’t ruin anything.”
“But… it’s raining,” Sirius said confused.
“Yes and? Rain is, like, the most romantic thing ever.”
“It is?”
“Once again,” Remus sighed, “I would like to reiterate how desperately you need to read a book.”
“Well, I’m sorry we can’t all be addicted to romance novels.”
“Oh shut up and kiss me.” Sirius laughs and lets his lips meet Remus’. They’re both drenched to the bone but neither one of them could care any less. Sirius’ hand brushes Remus’ cheek as he wraps his arms around Remus’ neck pulling him closer. Remus’ hands are on Sirius’ waist, and they slide down to his hips. Sirius’ shirt had ridden up a bit from lifting his hands to reach Remus’ neck and Remus’ fingertips brush Sirius’ bare skin — which is wet and slippery from the rain — making Sirius shiver and sigh. When they break apart, Sirius brings his lips to Remus’ ear.
“Besides,” he whispers, as Remus runs a hand through Sirius’ wet hair, “who needs romance novels when I’ve got the best romance story in the world.” Remus felt a flutter of pure happiness and smiled. He kissed Sirius’ jaw, right beneath his ear.
“Happy anniversary,” he whispered. Sirius sighed in response. They stand there in the rain, wrapped in each other’s arms, dancing slowly to the sound of the rain splashing and pattering on the leaves of the trees around them.
45 notes · View notes
myonechicagoworld · 3 years
Text
CHICAGO FIRE – LET HER GO (S01E23)
[TW: Blood]
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Christopher Herrmann: We were scheduled to open our bar after
                                         next shift. And in light of what happened,
                                         we were gonna push it. But… me and
                                         Dawson and Otis… We talked about it,
                                         and instead, we’re gonna make it a
                                         celebration of Hallie’s life. All the
                                         proceeds for tonight will be donated in
                                         her name to Children’s Memorial.
                                         Thanks.
Chief Boden: Not an easy day. Not for any of us. Lieutenant Casey
                       is meeting with detectives from CPD. Arson
                       investigators are at the clinic right now. All we can do
                       for Matt is be there the best we can.
                                             cutscene
                                               [traffic]
                                    [background chatter]
Matt Casey: Hey. Lieutenant Casey. I’m here to see Detective
                     Dawson.
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [laughs] We got a fireman in the house.
                                         Look at him, well-rested and fed. Must be
                                         nice being a fireman, washing fire trucks…
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Detective (Julia Willhite): Sarge, Sarge. The DOA from the clinic
                                           fire, Lieutenant Casey was her boyfriend.
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): Ah. That’s my bad.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Detective Julie Willhite. Intelligence.
                                           I’ll take you upstairs?
Matt Casey: All right, yeah.
Antonio Dawson: Those two guys we flipped had scrips all over
                               ‘em.
                               I’m so sorry, man.
Matt Casey: Thanks. So, where are we at?
Hank Voight: I just got off the phone…
Matt Casey: I don’t deal with you. I deal with Antonio.
Antonio Dawson: ME report came in. Hallie was struck in the back
                               of the head and killed before the fire started.
Surveillance Tech: (over radio) Units in 21, foot man on Taylor
                                Street. Just confirmed sighting of your silver
                                Magnum. 1400 block of West Taylor.
Antonio Dawson: That’s the car that fled the clinic fire.
                                          [sirens wailing]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): (over radio) This is 2121.
                                            (into radio) Silver Magnum’s been
                                            located going East on Taylor.
                                            We’re not on Taylor.
Officer (Jim Barnes): I know.
                                       [tires screeching]
                                         [siren whoops]
                                          [tires revving]
                                         [horn honking]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): (into radio) Blocked on Racine. They
                                            bailed out! We’re in pursuit.
Man 2: [grunts]
                                           [dog barking]
Officer (Jim Barnes): [heavy breathing]
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Man 2: Aah!
Officer (Jim Barnes): Seriously?
                                         [tires screeching]
                                           [horn honking]
                                         [tires screeching]
                                           [horn honking]
Man 3: [grunts]
             Ahhh!
Officer (Nicole Sermons): Stay down!
Man 3: [groans and coughs]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): Aw, please.
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                                              [taser buzzes]
Man 3: [groans]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): [panting]
Officer (Jim Barnes): You good?
Man 3: [groans]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): [panting/out of breath]
                                     [indistinct radio chatter]
                                        [car doors shutting]
                                               cutscene
Antonio Dawson: What do we got?
Officer (Nicole Sermons): A couple of oxy heads; a handful of
                                           priors for armed robbery, mostly around
                                           UIC. They’re saying they knew the car
                                           was hot, but they bought it from a black
                                           male for 500 and were gonna use it for a
                                           couple days to do some stickups and
                                            then dump it.
Man 3: [groaning]
Officer (Nicole Sermons): He resisted.
Man 3: She kicked me in the balls.
Antonio Dawson: Cry me a river!
Officer (Jim Barnes): They’re denying any involvement in the clinic.
                                    There’s no arson or bodily harm on either of
                                    their records.
Antonio Dawson: Who’s the brains of the outfit?
Officer (Jim Barnes): That guy.
Antonio Dawson: Bring him over here!
                              Who’d you buy the car from?
Man 2: Black dude named Shorty.
Hank Voight: Oh. Shorty.
Man 2: Shorty.
Antonio Dawson: Get him outta here.
Officer (Jim Barnes): Come on.
Detective (Julia Willhite): [exhales]
                                   [knocking on body of car]
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Detective (Julia Willhite): Looks like a lot of cars we’d find in
                                          Narcotics. Generic dummy plates. A lot
                                          of ‘em have traps built in to move the
                                          dope and cash.
                                          Okay.
                                          There we go.
                                          [sighs]
Matt Casey: So what does this mean? Who are we looking for?
Detective (Julia Willhite): Someone who was moving major
                                           dope.
                                           - title screen -
Leslie Shay: Hey. Hey.
Kelly Severide: Hey.
Leslie Shay: Um, on the heels of all this, I was thinking that, you
                     know, God forbids something were to happen to
                     either one of us, that maybe we should have
                     something written up legally in terms of who would
                     take care of the baby.
Kelly Severide: Absolutely.
Leslie Shay: And speaking of, we go in tomorrow.
Chief Boden: Casey’s heading back down to the fire scene with the
                       detectives.
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Kelly Severide: I’m coming. And I’ll… I’ll be there.
Leslie Shay: Yeah.
                                             cutscene
Gabby Dawson: That’s so nice of you. Thank you. Bye.
                            The Optical shop on the corner is gonna donate a
                            couple pairs of sunglasses to raffle off.
Otis Zvonecek: Great. As soon as Zoya starts, she can help go
                           collect all this stuff.
Christopher Herrmann: Who?
Otis Zvonecek: Uh, my cousin. From Russia? Zoya?
                           We talked about this.
Christopher Herrmann: When?
Otis Zvonecek: At the soft opening?
Christopher Herrmann: What? When I got like six beers in me?
Otis Zvonecek: Hey, you signed off, dude.
Christopher Herrmann: Do you know anything about this?
Gabby Dawson: First I’ve heard of it.
Otis Zvonecek: Okay, uh, she’s here on a six month work visa. But
                          apparently, the nanny job was killing her. She’s nice,
                          she’s cute, she’s got restaurant experience, and you
                          agreed to it.
Christopher Herrmann: What kind of restaurant?
Gabby Dawson: Who cares? It’s fine. She’s in. We got funds to
                            raise.
Christopher Herrmann: You guys are killing me.
Otis Zvonecek: Ah, you’ll love her.
                                               cutscene
Arson Investigator: It’s what we know so far.
Chief Boden: Thank you very much.
Arson Investigator: Sure, Chief.
Kelly Severide: How you holdin’ up?
                                    [indistinct radio chatter]
Matt Casey: Best I can.
Chief Boden: There’s no security video. Two of the cameras were
                        fake. The other had no database. Arson is saying it
                        don’t look like a break-in.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Same director of this clinic runs another
                                           over on Wabash.
Hank Voight: Let’s take a look. Thanks, Chief.
Chief Boden: This is the ignition point.
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Detective (Julia Willhite): Patient prescription records.
Matt Casey: Actually… Hallie… right before we went to lunch, she
                     was standing there looking at something and-and she
                     said, “that’s weird.” I just figured it was about billing or
                     something.
Dispatcher: (over radio) Main to Battalion 25, Truck 81, Squad 3, 
                      and Ambulance 61, responding…
Chief Boden: No, no, no.
Dispatcher: (over radio)…to civilian in distress…[continues
                     indistinctly]
Chief Boden: Your head’s not in the game right now. I’ll cover for
                        you.
Detective (Julia Willhite): He can roll with us.
Chief Boden: (into radio) Battalion 25 en route.
Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 25.
Hank Voight: Not a problem.
                                            cutscene
                                        [sirens wailing]
Delivery Man: I swear I heard screaming down there.
                                 [running water splashing]
Victim 1: Help!
Kelly Severide: Get your lights!
                           [grunts]
Victim 1: Here!
Chief Boden: Voice came from over there. Watch yourself. Water’s
                       moving fast.
Kelly Severide: Chief, down there!
Victim 1: I don’t think I can hold on much longer!
Kelly Severide: Hang on. We’re gonna get you out.
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Chief Boden: Get your webbing out. Secure it to this handle.
                       I’ll hold the line.
Victim 1: [cries]
Kelly Severide: Don’t let go.
                                      [water splashing]
Chief Boden: Be careful. Watch that current.
Kelly Severide: I got you.
Victim 1: Can’t move!
Chief Boden: Talk to me, Kelly.
Kelly Severide: Chief! Both her feet are sucked into a drain.
Chief Boden: (into radio) We got one victim pinned in. I’m gonna
                       need rescue rope and scuba gear in the west end of
                       the tunnel right now.
                       Coming in.
Victim 1: Something’s cutting my leg [groans]
Kelly Severide: Chief. Suction’s trapping debris at her feet.
Chief Boden: I got her.
Kelly Severide: I gotta dive down, get you clear.
Victim 1: [whimpers] Please… please don’t let me die down here.
               Please
Chief Boden: I got you.
                       Come on!
Victim 1: [cries]
Christopher Herrmann: They’re over here!
                                              [coughing]
Kelly Severide: Got some clear, but I need more time.
Chief Boden: We don’t have it.
Harold Capp: Severide!
Chief Boden: We need the scuba gear over here now.
Firefighter: Here you go, Chief.
Kelly Severide: I got it! Get my mask!
Chief Boden: Hey, I’m gonna put this mask over your face. It’s
                       gonna help you breathe under the water.
Victim 1: [whimpers]
Christopher Herrmann: Wait right there, just hold still. You got air?
Chief Boden: Get it on… whoa, whoa, whoa!
Firefighter: She’s going under!
                   Can’t see her!
Christopher Herrmann: You got her, Chief?
Chief Boden: I got her. I got her.
Joe Cruz: The water level’s rising.
Kelly Severide: Hey, hey. I got the debris clear, but the suction’s
                           keeping her down. We need to pull her up.
Chief Boden: Get the webbing on now.
Christopher Herrmann: [starts indistinctly]… under her arm.
Kelly Severide: I need more light.
Christopher Herrmann: Severide, feed that under her arm.
                                        Watch the mask… you got her, Chief?
Christopher Herrmann: She’s ready to go.
Kelly Severide: Easy, easy.
Christopher Herrmann: Grab the webbing! Hang on.
Chief Boden: Ready? One, two… pull!
                       Watch her head.
                                       [overlapping yelling]
Kelly Severide: Grab her legs.
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Christopher Herrmann: You got her?
                                         Watch the tank.
Joe Cruz: I got it, Chief.
Victim 1: [coughs]
Christopher Herrmann: You okay, kid? Look at me. Sucking down
                                        that river, huh?
                                        Okay, we got you, girl. Let’s go!
                                        You good, Chief?
Chief Boden: We’re good!
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Kelly Severide: Nice work.
Chief Boden: Good job. Let’s get the hell out of here.
                                               cutscene
Antonio Dawson: Do you recognise either one?
Man 4 (Steven Goody): I’ve never seen them before.
Antonio Dawson: Any problems with anyone at the clinic?
Man (Steven Goody): Not with our employees. Everybody works,
                                     and volunteers are here because they care.
                                     They-they wanna give back.
Antonio Dawson: Patients?
Man (Steven Goody): Let’s just say a few bad apples have walked
                                     through that door.
Antonio Dawson: Anyone specifically?
Man (Steven Goody): Who might kill Hallie? Oh, I… I’m… I don’t
                                     know.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Two of the security cameras were fake.
Man (Steven Goody): [sighs] I… I’m just trying to keep the doors
                                     open. You know, it’s a lot of things I can’t
                                     afford that I’d like to.
Detective (Julia Willhite): The fire was started near prescription
                                           records. Our guess, someone tried to
                                           cover up some impropriety. Those
                                           scrips are for a hell of a lot of
                                           Oxycontin.
Man (Steven Goody): For you, maybe. Not for someone in pain.
Antonio Dawson: Any problems with your prescription drugs? Any
                              missing inventory?
Man (Steven Goody): Not that I know of. We have a drug cage, and
                                    there’s never been a problem.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Mr. Goody, we’re gonna need a list of
                                           employees, patients…
Man (Steven Goody): And I’m gonna have to stop you right there.
                                    We are dealing with protected health
                                    information, uh, potential HIPAA violations,
                                    insurance, liabilities, blah, blah, blah. It’s
                                    gonna have to go through our legal
                                    department.
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Antonio Dawson: If your clinic was a pill mill and Hallie found out
                              about it and someone killed her to shut her up,
                              now, right now would be the time to tell us.
Man (Steven Goody): [scoffs] It-It’s not a pill mill.
                                     [sighs] Okay, look. Um… there was this guy,
                                     Jubal Bartlett. He was a drug dealer. His
                                     girlfriend came in with a broken jaw. We
                                     reported it to the police. He did not take it
                                     kindly. He made threats.
Detective (Julia Willhite): We’ll be back.
                                                 cutscene
                                [TV announcer in background]
Otis Zvonecek: So, uh, Zoya, this is Herrmann and Dawson.
Christopher Herrmann: Nice to meet you.
Otis Zvonecek: Guys, this is Zoya.
Gabby Dawson: Hey, so nice to meet you.
Zoya: Hello.
                                   [Herrmann & Zoya chuckles]
Christopher Herrmann: So Brian said that you’ve got some
                                         restaurant experience.
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Zoya: Thank you.
           [speaking Russian]
Otis Zvonecek: Uh, um…
Otis Zvonecek & Zoya: [speaking Russian]
Otis Zvonecek: Uh, anyway, so I just wanna make some quick
                           introductions, and we will see you at the bar.
Gabby Dawson: Ooh.
Christopher Herrmann: We’ve got Yakov Smirnoff tending bar
                                         now?
Gabby Dawson: Who’s that?
Otis Zvonecek: Um, so for the opening and the benefit, I’m pretty
                           sure she said she’s gonna bring a monkey
                           [chuckles]
Christopher Herrmann: A monkey?
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Otis Zvonecek: Yep.
Gabby Dawson: Otis.
Otis Zvonecek: Look-look, it-it’s probably some sort of good luck
                           gesture or-or, you know, it has some sort of 
                           cultural significance. What’s the worst that could
                           happen?
Gabby Dawson: Did you see the lady on Oprah who got her face
                            chewed off by a monkey?
Otis Zvonecek: I did see that. And if it looks like it could take us, I’ll
                          tell her to keep it in the car.
                          Thank you. Thank you. Thank you [exhales]
                                                cutscene
Antonio Dawson: I’ve got the word out to all my CIs. Nothing yet.
Detective (Julia Willhite): And none of the neighbours saw or heard
                                           anything prior to the fire.
Antonio Dawson: Subpoena will get us employee and patient
                              records in a couple hours.
Hank Voight: What about the drug dealer the clinic director turned
                       us on to?
Antonio Dawson: Can’t find him.
Hank Voight: Can’t find him?
Antonio Dawson: Ran him through NCIC and the FBI to see if he
                              got pinched anywhere else.
Matt Casey: What’s this drug dealer’s name?
Hank Voight: Yeah, it’s probably best we don’t tell you. You know,
                       we don’t want you… doing something rash.
                       I understand that you and Hallie broke up before her
                       death. Is that right?
Matt Casey: For a few months… yeah.
Hank Voight: She see anyone in that gap?
Matt Casey: No one serious.
Hank Voight: Did she ever mention anyone that she felt
                       uncomfortable around? Was afraid of?
Matt Casey: Yeah. You.
Hank Voight: Lieutenant, I am sympathetic to what you’re going
                       through.
Matt Casey: I don’t believe that for a second.
Hank Voight: Fine. Don’t.
                       But I have allowed you to be here as a courtesy.
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Matt Casey: Courtesy, from you? I don’t need it. I want you to find
                     out who killed my girl!
Antonio Dawson: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Matt Casey: All right?
Antonio Dawson: You gotta chill out, bro.
Matt Casey: Voight isn’t gonna lift a finger unless someone pays
                      him under the table.
Antonio Dawson: I got my eye on him, okay? He’s working the
                              case. Go back to the firehouse and cool off.
Matt Casey: No. I’m staying here.
Antonio Dawson: You’re not. Wait to hear from me.
                              Go on.
                                              cutscene
Leslie Shay: Okay, there’s what would happen if both of us died…
                     Who would take care of the baby?
Kelly Severide: Yeah, we should figure that out.
Leslie Shay: Dawson, right?
Kelly Severide: Yeah.
Leslie Shay: Okay.
Kelly Severide: What is it?
Leslie Shay: I’m just excited.
Kelly Severide: Me too.
Leslie Shay: And part of me feels horrible ‘cause of what Casey’s
                     going through. Here I am with butterflies in my stomach
                     ‘cause I’m getting ready to get pregnant, and… [sighs]
                                        [alarm beeps & buzzes]
(Over PA): Ambulance 61. Gunshot victim.
Officer (Elam): Neighbours reported shots fired.
                         30-year-old female, single gunshot to the stomach.
                         Actually, that’s a guess. It’s hard to tell. There’s a lot
                         of blood.
Officer (Kevin Atwater): She was pumping out pretty good. I
                                         applied pressure, but I don’t know what’s
                                         going on.
Leslie Shay: It’s okay. I got it.
                     Not feeling anything.
                                            [machine flatlines]
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Gabby Dawson: She’s gone. I’m calling it.
                            (into radio) 61 to main, victim is DOA. We’re
                            delayed on scene while we document for CPD.
Leslie Shay: Dawson. She was a nurse at the clinic Hallie worked at.
                                                 cutscene
                                      [indistinct radio chatter]
                                            [car doors shut]
Gabby Dawson: Hey. What the hell’s going on?
Antonio Dawson: That’s what we’re trying to find out.
Gabby Dawson: How’s he been?
Antonio Dawson: Busy, like everybody on this case. I’ll get at you
                              later.
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Hank Voight: Boo.
Detective (Julia Willhite): In on it?
Antonio Dawson: Or she found out who was.
Officer (Elam): Neighbour only heard the gunshot. No one on either
                         side saw anyone leave. But we can keep knocking
                         on doors.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Willhite.
Hank Voight: Do that.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Thanks.
                                           The drug dealer, Jubal Bartlett? He’s
                                            been locked up in Virginia Beach for the
                                            past four days on a possession charge.
Hank Voight: I want that clinic director in the hot seat… now.
Antonio Dawson: I told his lawyer I was gonna issue an arrest
                              warrant for obstruction by the end of the week if
                              he didn’t get his client to honour the meet.
Hank Voight: Man, whoever did these two hits will be long gone by
                       the end of the week.
Antonio Dawson: This ain’t the Gang unit, Voight. Sarge. You can’t 
                               do everything with a battering ram.
Hank Voight: The hell I can’t.
Antonio Dawson: Don’t worry. I got him handled.
Detective (Julia Willhite): I noticed.
                                               cutscene
Leslie Shay: Oh my God.
Kelly Severide: What?
Leslie Shay: I just took this baby-proofing quiz. We live in a death
                     trap. Spiral staircase, upper floor apartment with
                     accessible balconies…
Kelly Severide: Are you giving birth tomorrow?
                          Listen, we have time to make any fixes we need.
Leslie Shay: We need a locked liquor cabinet. Remind me.
Kelly Severide: Okay.
Woman 1 (Nurse): Leslie Shay?
Leslie Shay: Hi.
                     Here we go.
                     All right.
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                                          [kissing sound]
Leslie Shay: Will you rub my belly for good luck?
Kelly Severide: [chuckles]
Leslie Shay: Just…
Kelly Severide: Relax.
Leslie Shay: All right.
Woman 1 (Nurse): You ready?
Leslie Shay: Yeah. Feeling fertile.
Woman 1 (Nurse): Feeling fertile. Okay. We’ll make sure of that.
Leslie Shay: Okay.
                                                cutscene
Joe Cruz: A monkey?
Otis Zvonecek: Why is everybody acting like she said she’s gonna
                           bring a unicorn? Yes, a monkey.
Joe Cruz: Why?
Otis Zvonecek: Ask her when she gets here.
Gabby Dawson: Ask Otis to ask her. She doesn’t speak English.
Joe Cruz: Oh.
Otis Zvonecek: It’s serviceable.
Joe Cruz: [laughs]
Mouch: You gotta go White Sox.
Christopher Herrmann: No, I don’t wanna alienate half the
                                         neighbourhood who are Cubs fans. We
                                         gotta go with teams that we can all agree
                                         on: The Bears, the Bulls and the
                                         Blackhawks.
Mouch: And the fire?
Christopher Herrmann: The who?
Mouch: Soccer team. Chicago Fire.
Christopher Herrmann: Who knew?
                                         Okay, sure, fine. Get a banner.
                                               [chuckling]
                                        [cell phone vibrates]
                                                cutscene
Peter Mills: Hey. Thanks for coming.
Gabby Dawson: Of course.
Peter Mills: Um… I’ve been thinking about everything, you know?
                     And uh, I’m waiting for this… I guess anger to go away.
                     It’s not. And I’m not mad at you. But I do have to say I
                     wish you would’ve told me when you found out.
Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I know you do. All I can say is that I-I just felt
                             stuck ‘cause I didn’t wanna hurt you, and… and it
                             wasn’t my business.
Peter Mills: But it was your business. I was your boyfriend.
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Gabby Dawson: Was?
Peter Mills: I think I need some time. Look, I respect you too much
                    to have you twisting in the wind, wondering where my
                    head’s at.
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Gabby Dawson: Oh man… I mean [clears throat]
                            I knew this was a possibility if I told you, but…
Peter Mills: I still love you. I do. But this whole thing just… I guess
                    it’s just… a little deeper than I thought.
Gabby Dawson: Well you need to figure it out, Pete, one way or
                             another.
Peter Mills: I know.
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Gabby Dawson: [sniffles] I gotta go.
Peter Mills: [sighs]
                                                 cutscene
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): Uh oh, Voight’s here. Everybody hide your
                                          wallets!
Hank Voight: Hey, what’s up, Pru?
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): There it is. You gotta be the luckiest son of
                                          a bitch I ever met. How do you walk
                                          around all day with that horseshoe in your
                                          ass?
Hank Voight: [laughs] Just living the dream.
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): I guess you are.
Hank Voight: Yeah.
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [chuckles]
Hank Voight: Anything for me, man, in narcotics?
Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [sighs] Nothing yet, man. We set a bunch
                                          of controlled buys ups. But nothing, man.
                                          Not even a vitamin. CIs have nothing
                                          either. Don’t know what to tell you.
Hank Voight: Mm.
Antonio Dawson: Prints came back on that Magnum. Calvin
                               Jackson, goes by CJ. Extensive sheet for
                               dealing, including oxy.
Detective (Julia Willhite): We’re heading over to grab him up.
Hank Voight: No, no. I’ll take care of it. Great work.
                                    [muffled rap music]
                                     [indistinct chatter]
Man 5: [chuckles] I heard that.
            [laughs] Yeah, you know it, man.
            Look at this.
Hank Voight: What’s up, Mo?
Man 5 (Maurice Owens): I knew they couldn’t keep you down.
Hank Voight: Hey, man, not in this lifetime.
                       We got a little problem with your nephew CJ. We got
                       his prints on a car that booked it from that clinic fire a
                       few days back. Was he involved?
Man 5 (Maurice Owens): What if he was?
Hank Voight: I don’t like guessing games.
Man 5 (Maurice Owens): He was buying prescrips from some dude
                                           who was working with a nurse inside and
                                           the guy who ran the clinic. Next thing I
                                           know, CJ comes back all tweaked. He
                                           was at the clinic doing a pickup when the
                                           place caught fire. So he bounced.
Hank Voight: The name of the dude.
Man 5 (Maurice Owens): CJ didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. He did say
                                          that this guy ain’t right in the head. Like,
                                          white-boy-serial-killer-crazy. Second
                                          thing: he knows about me and you.
Hank Voight: And how would my name come up, Mo?
Man 5 (Maurice Owens): CJ told him you gave us protection. So if
                                           you lock him up and he starts runnin’ his
                                           trap, that ain’t good for any of us. You
                                           know what I’m sayin’?
Hank Voight: You get CJ on the phone, and get me the name of that
                        guy.
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Man 5 (Maurice Owens): Nah, CJ is gone. I told him to dump his
                                          phone and clear out for a bit. You know
                                          how I work. This is your problem now.
                                           Five stacks. A little welcome back gift.
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Antonio Dawson: [sighs]
                                                 cutscene
Leslie Shay: So you can start the college fund when, um, the baby’s
                      born. And it’s only like 5 dollars a month. Even if they
                      don’t go to college, they still get the money. So I’m not
                      quite sure why they call it a college fund. It’s… really,
                      it’s just a-a fund for when they turn 18. So… Are you
                      okay?
                                    [laundry machine hums]
Gabby Dawson: Um… [sniffles]
                            Mills broke up with me.
Leslie Shay: Oh my God. Over the Boden thing?
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Gabby Dawson: Yeah.
Leslie Shay: [sighs] What an idiot. I’m sorry, sweetie.
Gabby Dawson: [sniffles]
                                            cutscene
                                    [knocks on window]
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Matt Casey: I was gonna call him, but then it felt like that was the
                     easy way out. So I drove over. And her parents were
                     having a dinner party. Hallie’s sister was there, her
                     kids, her parents’ friends, all of ‘em. It was the hardest
                     thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Kelly Severide: I’m so sorry, Matt.
Matt Casey: Yeah, I appreciate this.
                     [laughs] I needed it [sniffs]
Kelly Severide: You know, when Andy died… without even realising
                           it, I found myself needing to be around people
                           acting normal just to get my frame of reference
                           pull myself out of the hole I was in. So whenever
                           you wanna grab a smoke, or hit golf balls, or
                           whatever…
Chief Boden: Casey. Antonio and Detective Willhite are here for you.
Detective (Julia Willhite): We're waiting on the nurse's cell phone
                                           records, fingerprints from her apartment.
Antonio Dawson: But we're not homicide, so we can be a little 
                              more aggressive.
Matt Casey: Good.
Antonio Dawson: We cooked up something. You go in to the clinic
                              director. He knows you’re Hallie’s boyfriend,
                              right?
Matt Casey: Right.
Antonio Dawson: You tell him you were going through her
                               computer at home. She spelled out the whole 
                               thing. She also mentioned the director was a
                               good guy and probably was forced into this.
Detective (Julia Willhite): And after that you don’t say a word,
                                           ‘cause he’ll either take the bait and
                                           give us a name of his accomplice or
                                           he won’t.
Antonio Dawson: We’ll be outside, so if anything goes sideways,
                               we’re right there.
Chief Boden: He’ll be wearing a wire?
Antonio Dawson: That’s right.
Chief Boden: How do we know this director isn’t the trigger man
                       and he pulls a gun?
Antonio Dawson: We wouldn’t be here if we thought that was a
                              valid scenario. But can we guarantee your
                              safety 100%? No.
Matt Casey: I don’t care, I’m in.
                                             cutscene
                                        [car door shuts]
Hank Voight: (into radio) All right, here we go. He’s walking into the
                       clinic.
Officer (Nicole Sermons): (into radio) This is Sermons. We’re
                                            tucked away and standing by.
Hank Voight: [sighs]
                                       [computer beeps]
Detective (Julia Willhite): Prints came back from the nurse’s
                                           apartment. Timothy Campbell. Whoa.
Antonio Dawson: What?
Detective (Julia Willhite): Armed robbery, drug possession, assault
                                           with a deadly weapon.
Matt Casey: How you doin’? I’d like to talk to Steven Goody?
Woman 2 (Receptionist): He’s in a meeting.
Matt Casey: You know when he’ll be out?
Woman 2 (Receptionist): I don’t.
                                   [muffled male shouting]
Matt Casey: Mind if I wait until he’s done?
                                              [gunshots]
                                             [screaming]
Hank Voight: Go!
                                             [siren wails]
                                          [horns honking]
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Antonio Dawson: Chicago Police! Get down!
                                              [screaming]
Antonio Dawson: Move!
Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): [grunts]
Matt Casey: [groans]
                                        [both men grunting]
Matt Casey: [groans]
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Antonio Dawson: Casey!
                                             [horn honking]
Antonio Dawson: Casey!
                                             [horns honking]
                                                [siren wails]
Antonio Dawson: Casey!
Officer (Jim Barnes): El platform.
                                             [tires screeching]
Antonio Dawson: Police! Get down!
                                                  [screaming]
Antonio Dawson: Get down! Police!
                                                  [screaming]
Antonio Dawson: Police! Get down!
                              Casey!
                              Casey!
                                               [horns honking]
                                              [tires screeching]
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Detective (Julia Willhite): Clear, right.
                                                [horns honking]
                                              [overlap shouting]
                                               [tires screeching]
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Detective (Julia Willhite): Stay with it. Stay with it.
                                                 [horn honking]
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Matt Casey: [grunts]
                                                 [siren wailing]
                                                [siren whoops]
                                                    [gunshot]
                                                  [screaming]
Antonio Dawson: Freeze!
                              Let him go! Drop the gun, Campbell.
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Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): I swear to God, I’ll blow his head off.
Antonio Dawson: Let him go.
Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Put the gun on the ground.
Antonio Dawson: That ain’t happenin’.
Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Put it on the ground!
Antonio Dawson: I’m not dropping my gun!
                              Here, look… Okay? Now you gotta do the same
                              for me.
                              Voight.
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Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Wait, you’re Voight? Thank God. Tell
                                               them…
                                        [gunshot]
Matt Casey: [coughing & gasping for air]
Hank Voight: (into radio) King 84-10, emergency.
Dispatcher: (over radio) King 84-10. Go with your emergency.
Hank Voight: (into radio) Shot fired by police. Roll an ambulance to
                       the El platform on Kinzie and Wells. Officer not hit.
                       Offender down. Gunshot wound to head.
Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 84-10. Bus is on the way.
Antonio Dawson: Nice shot.
Gabby Dawson: And yep. He be dead.
Leslie Shay: We’ll hand it over to the ME.
Detective (Julia Willhite): Thanks.
Gabby Dawson: Any way you can get back into Vice?
Antonio Dawson: I would if I wanted to.
Officer (Nicole Sermons): You okay?
Matt Casey: Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.
                      [sniffs]
                                               cutscene
Leslie Shay: And check out those names on the sheet. See if you
                     like any of those.
Kelly Severide: Yeah.
Leslie Shay: Oh, I saw online that recording an agreement is also
                      beneficial. That way, if there’s ever a disagreement,
                      instead of looking at a bunch of words you can see
                      yourself talking to the present you and advising
                      yourself to behave rationally and fairly. So what do
                      you think? [clears throat]
Kelly Severide: Um… I think Molly’s is opening up tonight.
Leslie Shay: [laughs] Have a baby first, deal with this later?
Kelly Severide: Sounds good.
                                                 cutscene
Christopher Herrmann: Doors open in an hour. I think we got it all
                                         covered, right?
Joe Cruz: You’re all set, man. The place looks great.
Zoya: [speaking Russian]
Otis Zvonecek: Monkey’s here.
Christopher Herrmann: Are we insured for this? I’m not even
                                         joking.
Zoya: [speaking Russian]
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Christopher Herrmann: That’s the Stanley Cup.
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Otis Zvonecek: [speaking Russian]
                           [mimics monkey]
Zoya: [speaking Russian]
          [laughs]
Otis Zvonecek & Zoya: [speaking Russian]
Otis Zvonecek: So I guess in Russian, chimpanzee and hockey
                           championship are this close phonetically [chuckles]
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Christopher Herrmann: That’s the Stanley Cup.
                                             cutscene
                                        [car door shuts]
Woman 3: Hank.
Hank Voight: 5k. Guy’s name is Maurice Owens. Mid-level dealer.
                       It’s all in the report.
Woman 3: Strange bedfellows, huh?
                  This is a good start. Keep putting yourself out there as
                  dirty. Who knows what fish we’ll catch in the net, right?
Hank Voight: I want a receipt for the cash when you’re done with 
                       your inventory.
Woman 3: You don’t trust me, Hank?
Hank Voight: I want it by tomorrow.
Woman 3: Keep in touch.
                                          cutscene
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                                 [overlapping chatter]
                                            [music]
                               [bottles/glasses clinking]
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Mouch: Can I chug a beer out of it?
              No you know what? I’m good, I’m good. Get in here.
                               [overlapping chatter]
Christopher Herrmann: [laughs]
Leslie Shay: Hey.
Matt Casey: Hey.
Leslie Shay: How you doing?
Matt Casey: How you doing?
Leslie Shay: I’m good.
Matt Casey: Hey.
                      Thanks for coming. You look great.
Girl (Sophie): Hi.
Matt Casey: How are you?
Girl (Sophie): Good.
Matt Casey: Good?
Girl (Sophie): Mmhmm.
Matt Casey: Gary, good to see you. Really.
Man 7 (Gary): Good to see you.
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Matt Casey: How you doin’? Nice to see ya.
                     [chuckles] This the real thing?
Otis Zvonecek: Yeah.
Matt Casey: I, uh… [sniffs] one of our first dates was a…
                     Blackhawks-Devils game. When she told me she
                     knew what icing was, I knew I had a keeper.
                                       [crowd chuckling]
Matt Casey: Yeah, this means a lot, guys…[sighs & sniffs]
                      And it means a lot to her, ‘cause I’m sure she’s looking
��                     down.
                      To Hallie.
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All: To Hallie.
                                        [sombre music]
                                              - end -
Definitions:
UIC = University of Illinois Chicago
Oxycontin = Brand name for a timed-release formula of oxycodone, a narcotic analgesic (medication that reduces pain). Oxycodone is an opioid medication and is highly addictive and commonly used recreationally by people who have an opioid use disorder
HIPAA = Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (1996) is a US federal statute enacted by the 104th US Congress and signed into law by President Bill Clinton. It is a federal law that required the creation of national standards to protect sensitive patient health information from being disclosed without the patient’s consent or knowledge
Yakov Smirnoff = Ukranian-American comedian, actor and writer
CIs = Criminal Informants
Subpoena = A writ ordering a person to attend a court
NCIC = National Crime Information Center (NCIC) is a computerised index of criminal justice information (i.e. criminal record history information, fugitives, stolen properties, missing persons)
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mkstrigidae · 3 years
Text
Current WIPs and Fic Concepts
I promised I would do this yesterday, and then I forgot!!! (I was very sleep deprived). Anyways, here are a bunch of the WIP premises that I have in my 'unfinished drafts' folder. Most have at least a few pages written for them, but I love them all! ☺️💕
- A Santa Clarita Diet AU (Jonsa) Takes place in sunny southern California, where a shitty dinner at a mediocre restaurant turns into a huge problem for Jon and Sansa when Sansa's heart stops beating. Although she seems fine, Jon is flabbergasted several days later as he watches his wife- who alphabetizes their pantry and refuses to let anyone wear shoes in the house- rip the throat out of one of the sleazy new partners at their law firm, eating half of him before anyone processes what's going on. Hilarity ensues as Sansa's inhibitions and filter disappear, Arya ropes an extremely confused Gendry into helping figure out what the hell is going on just because he moderates the zombie forum on reddit, and Jon tries to deal with the fact that the woman he loves more than anything is now a humanitarian. He really could use a drink. (This one is actually mostly complete, but i need to refine a few things- i really love it. It's as gory and irreverent as the show, so viewer discretion advised, but it's a BLAST to write).
- A Thor/MCU AU (Jonsa, Steve Rogers/Sansa)- Asgardian prince Aegon is banished to Midgard after one too many arrogant decisions, and is promptly hit by a van containing Dr. Sansa Stark, Dr. Barristan Selmy, and Margaery Tyrell- two astrophysicists studying wormholes and Sansa's best friend and pseudo-intern. Marg yells at him, he yells back, Sansa tases him, and Barristan didn't sign up for the kind of heavy lifting that getting a 200+ pound slab of muscle into the back of a van takes. And then Aegon's younger brother, Jon, shows up, in the middle of an identity crisis because, apparently, he's adopted. He wasn't intending to stay, but he's rather drawn to Dr. Stark and her brilliance, and against her better judgement, she starts to trust him, and maybe even like him. This story is in about three parts so far- the first is based on 'Thor' and the second on 'The Avengers' and are fully Jonsa, and the third started as a family bonding story between the Stark kids and Tony (Ned and Tony are second cousins, and Ned was really supportive of Tony in rehab without expecting anything in return), and accidentally turned into a Steve Rogers/Sansa Stark story, which is a pairing i am HERE for. A lot of this one is written, but it needs some fill in before publishing, although it's one of my favorites that i've written to go back and actually read.
- A Star Wars AU (Jonsa) where Sansa and Arya are Alderaanian princesses who are off planet when Alderaan is destroyed- Sansa as a senator and Arya as a pilot, both working for the rebellion, and jon is a smuggler who does not know how all of these people got on his ship and why two princesses are sassing him. His copilot, Tormund (yes he's a wookie), thinks it is hilarious. I started this one just the other day, and it's already thirty pages long, most of them involving Sansa and Arya sassing people. Dany is a leader in the rebellion, Roose Bolton is the emperor, and Barbrey Dustin is a disgruntled former jedi trying to live in peace on a remote planet until another Stark crashes into her life and harangues her into teaching again.
- A witches/magic AU (Jonsa) where the Starks run an apothecary and spellcasting supplies shop. Jon had been completely in the dark about magic before his mother confessed to being born into a family of witches. He finds himself traveling to her hometown, trying to understand her world more clearly, and what it means for him. On the way, he develops something of a crush on the red-headed shop clerk who brews the best headache potions in town. Featuring lots of magical shenanigans, this is one of my favorites in the folder :)
- A 24 hour diner AU (Jonsa) where Jon is a local mob boss, and Sansa works the late shift at Seaworth's diner to buy textbooks for the PhD she's working on in botany. Sansa's running from memories, and Jon has a soft spot for the red-headed waitress who always remembers how he likes his coffee.
- An East of the Sun, West of the Moon AU!!! (Jonsa) This is one of my fav fairy tales, and of course i couldn't resist Jon as a direwolf striking a deal with the starks!
- A Roomates AU (Jonsa)- Arya, Jon, Tormund, and Sam have been renting the same house together off Winterfell's campus for years- but when Sam moves in with his girlfriend, they need one more person on the lease. Sansa, about to relocate to Winterfell for grad school, finds out that her boyfriend has been cheating on her and that her housing plans have fallen through, all on the same day. Needless to say, she's a bit upset when she calls Arya to relay the news. There's a simple solution here, if Arya and Tormund can stop teasing Jon about his crush for five minutes. (any excuse to write tormund and arya roasting jon, tbh).
- A Fae AU (Jonsa)- When Sansa, a baker living in the city, washes her face in an enchanted spring on a camping trip, she gains the sight as a result. Suddenly able to see the fae underworld all around her is disorienting and terrifying. Sansa tries to conceal it- afraid of what might happen if the fae around her know that she can see them- but slips up, and catches the attention of Jon Snow- one of the lords of the unseelie court.
- A nuclear winter wasteland AU (Jonsa)- (?? I don't even know how to describe this premise, haha) where the Starks are living and running the Free Winterfell settlement in Siberia after a worldwide nuclear meltdown. Before the fallout, Sansa was one of the world's preeminent researchers in plant genetics and pathology, and works at the settlement to create newer, disease and radiation resistant crops to distribute for free to other settlements, aiming to break up the monopoly that Lannister Corp has on the market. Jon is a scavenger, searching throughout Siberia for his sister Rhae who disappeared several years previously. When he runs across Arya Starkovna, helping her fight off another band of radiation ravaged scavengers is just instinct- he doesn't think twice about it. In thanks, she brings him to the Winterfell settlement, where her brother Robb offers Jon sanctuary and resources, in exchange for serving as a bodyguard for Sansa when she travels to other settlements. Sansa is not particularly thrilled by this arrangement, but given that multiple parties seem to want her dead, she doesn't have much of a choice but to accept his company.
- A reincarnation AU (Jonsa)- of sorts. Robb is an archaeologist who finds a strange set of runes at a site up north, and immediately calls in Jon Snow- a historian and expert in said ancient language, as well as an old university friend of Robb's. When he arrives though, Robb shows him their most valuable finds- two mysterious ice blocks, with what appear to be perfectly preserved bodies from over a thousand years ago. No one could ever have imagined that either of them were still alive, but when the ice melts, revealing two very alive girls, the entire crew is instantly buried in NDAs, and given an assignment from the Westerosi government to figure out what the hell was going on. Sansa and Arya wake up, extremely confused about the world they live in, trying to adapt and mourning all that they've lost, even as the people around them wear familiar faces.
- Soulmates AU (Jonsa)- (Yes, another one, I love this dumb trope) Trauma surgeon and medical resident Sansa Stark is having a very bad day, and ends up meeting her soulmate during what she thinks is a mugging gone wrong. Fortunately, he’s not the one mugging her, just an intervening bystander, but she ends up slightly shot nonetheless. Sansa’s fretting about bleeding on the upholstery in his car, but Jon is a bit more worried about her injuries than the blood stains. He’s a bit confused when she threatens him if he takes her to a specific hospital, nearly has a nervous breakdown when she insists on doing her own triage, and is very charmed when she insists on ice cream after taking pain meds at the hospital. On Sansa’s part, she’s a little less concerned about being shot, and a bit more concerned about whatever weird first impression she’s making to her soulmate while high as a kite on pain pills. (this one just needs some tweaking to be postable- I'm not sure if it's going to be a oneshot or a series, but i love what I have already)
- A Demon/Archivist AU (Jonsa)- where Sansa works in the university's historical archives in Oldtown, and is learning to restore old texts with her fellow student and friend, Alleras (Trans Sarella is an amazing concept). When Joffrey Baratheon shows up with a pile of old books from his family's library to donate, Sansa is eager to get away from his sleaze, and accidentally takes one of the books home with her in her rush to leave. Unbeknownst to her, it's more than it appears, and when she leaves it open overnight, she accidentally summons forth Jon- an ancient, powerful, and extremely annoyed demon who is under a curse, and now hers to command. As Jon and Sansa try to get used to this new normal, the Lannisters (unaware that Joffrey had donated the tome) try desperately to find the book and it's owner, wanting Jon's power for themselves, and putting Sansa in considerable danger unless she can figure out how to break Jon's curse. Fortunately, she's a pretty good researcher, even if Jon is initially a bit of a grump. (This is based on a total wish-fulfillment mary-sue type premise for something I wrote when I was thirteen, and I revisited it and wanted to see what it would look like if i took it very seriously, and i am really enjoying it so far. It's a love letter to the terrible, heartfelt writing i was doing in middle school that created the foundations for my writing today, and so much fun).
The one that I am MOST excited about though:
- A Pacific Rim AU!!!! (Ned/Cat, Gendrya, Braime, Sansa/Jon Umber)-Twins Sansa and Robb Stark have always been completely in tune with each other, and when your parents are Jaeger pilots and your mother invented the neural handshake, what option is there but the Jaeger academy? Sansa studies to be an engineer, but ends up copiloting the Jaeger 'Winter Wolf' with her twin brother, after they lose Ned Stark to cancer. When Robb is ripped out of the conn-pod and killed by a kaiju while he's still connected to Sansa, she barely manages to kill the creature before stumbling back to shore, traumatized, grieving, and swearing that she'll never pilot again.
Unfortunately, the Kaiju don't stop just because Sansa does, and when the end of the world is imminent, Marshall Catelyn Stark orders both her daughter and former pilot Jaime Lannister (who lost his twin and copilot, Cersei, several years previously) back to Hong Kong for one final stand. Forced to face both her demons and an irate Arya, furious that Sansa had abandoned the rest of them after Robb's death, Sansa and Arya have to figure out how to pilot Winter Wolf together before the apocalypse comes for them all.
Featuring Marshall Catelyn Stark (commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, inventor of the neural handshake, former Jaeger pilot, and BAMF), Sansa x Jon Umber (Yes i know it's a rare pair but i've always kind of loved the idea of them, even though we know so little about him), Kaiju parts dealer and smuggler Petyr Baelish, bickering kaiju biologist Dany and theoretical mathematician Jon Snow, LOCCENT officer Theon, lots of snark, lots of angst and heartfelt conversations, and a weird friendship between snarky-grieving-asshole Jaime Lannister and kind-quiet-grieving Sansa Stark, who are the only two people in the world who know what it's like to lose a copilot and a twin in the drift.
Thanks for reading guys!! There are more, but some of them I just don't know how to explain quite yet, haha. I'd love to hear what you guys think about these!
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"This is getting to be restraining order level crazy. I'm not kidding... She just really needs help."
In early 2011, 27 year old lawyer Ryan Poston was browsing Facebook when he came across pictures of 18 year old university student Shayna Hubers posing in a bikini. They began talking, and by Spring of that year the two had met and begun dating. However, it soon became apparent that Shayna was significantly more invested in the relationship than Ryan was, and the cracks already began to show. 
Ryan was becoming increasingly concerned by Shayna’s obsessive behaviour, and he was ready to break it off for good. For every one text Ryan would send, Shayna would send fifty. Despite living almost 80 miles apart - Shayna in Kentucky and Ryan in Ohio - she would constantly turn up unannounced to his home and let herself in. She had even Googled how to pick locks using hair pins. On one particular night in April 2012, Shayna outright refused to leave Ryan’s home, so he fled his own property and stayed at his dad’s house just to escape her. Jay Poston, Ryan’s father, would later testify that his son’s phone did not stop pinging all night.
By October 2012, during the 18 months they had spent together so far, the couple had broken up and got back together on numerous occasions; usually because Shayna would cry and Ryan would feel sorry for her. However, this time he’d had enough. In a text sent to his cousin, who was also Shayna’s friend, he wrote: "This is getting to be restraining order level crazy. I'm not kidding... You need to talk to her... She needs help, and I say that without exaggeration.” To another friend, he also messaged: "Literally probably the craziest fucking person I have ever met. She almost scares me.”
During the afternoon of October 12th - believing that he was now free from Shayna - Ryan was preparing for a date with another woman. Her name was Audrey Bolte (pictured bottom), and she was also Miss Ohio and a Miss USA runner-up that year. Before leaving work, he had excitedly told colleagues that he was taking a beauty queen out for a drink that night. However, instead of sharing Ryan’s positivity, one coworker replied: “I'm very nervous about what you're doing tonight because who knows what Shayna will do. You need to get her gone. I need you to call the police. I need you to call a locksmith. I need you to make it very final.” While Ryan reassured them that he had the situation with Shayna under control, he was sadly unaware that he would not make it to his date that night.
After hearing that Ryan was taking out a beautiful pageant winner, Shayna became consumed by an inconsolable, jealous rage. Once again - and for the last time - she turned up to her ex-boyfriend’s condo and an argument broke out between them. During this exchange, Shayna reached for one of Ryan’s firearms lying on the dining table and fired six bullets into him. After firstly calling her mother to confess what she had done, Shayna eventually dialled for emergency services after some delay, during which she immediately began to claim self-defence:
Hubers: He beat me and tried to carry me out of the house and I came back in to get my things and he was right in front of me and he reached down and grabbed the gun and I grabbed it out of his hand and pulled the trigger.
911 operator: And how long ago did you shoot him?
Hubers: I don't know, 15 ... 10, 15 minutes ... not even that long.
911 operator: 10 or 15 minutes ago?
Hubers: Yeah.
Shayna also claimed that Ryan threw her across the room and into a bookshelf. However, upon inspecting the scene, investigators noted that none of the loose objects placed on the shelves had been disturbed. In fact, there was a line of bullets standing upright on one shelf, which most certainly would have toppled over if the bookshelf was moved in any way - but they hadn’t.
After being brought into the police station, Shayna was left alone for a few minutes and watched from a different room by officers. During this time, she paced the room, danced and sang “Amazing Grace”. She was also heard muttering to herself: “I did it. Yes, did it!” During police questioning, despite requesting the presence of an attorney, Shayna voluntarily divulged a significant amount of information about what happened. One particular statement proved to be quite bizarre and incriminating:
“And he was laying with his face on the table, like twitching. And so I knew he was gonna die... And I walked around the table [cries]. And I think that's when I shot him... in the head. I shot him probably six times, shot him in the head. He fell onto the ground. He was, like, laying like this [she gets down on the floor]. His glasses were still on. He was twitching some more. I shot him a couple of more times just to make sure he was dead 'cause I didn't wanna watch him die... I knew he was gonna die or have a completely deformed face. He's very vain... and wants to get a nose job; just that kinda person and I shot him right here... I gave him his nose job he wanted”
Numerous people who knew Shayna did not believe her claims of self-defence from the offset. According to a former friend who had grown up with Hubers, she was extremely academically intelligent, but on the other hand she was extremely volatile and fragile when it came to boys: "If a guy, like, broke up with her or something or if a guy just said they weren't interested in her she would take it pretty hard... crying and maybe a little screaming... she didn't really like to let things go." Also, according to one of Ryan’s female friends, Shayna was described as follows: "She was so cold. You could just immediately tell... she was just obsessed with him... I think she had a goal, in the beginning, to make him settle down with her. And when she wasn't becoming successful, that became a problem."
Forensic evidence used by the prosecution refuted that Hubers had acted in self-defence, as an examination of gunshot trajectories showed that the victim had been sitting when the first shot was fired. He also would not have been able to stand after receiving the first head wound, therefore rebutting Hubers’ claims that she fired multiple shots because Ryan was still chasing her. Neighbours living in the apartment below Ryan’s also reported hearing two gunshots, followed by hesitation and then a further three shots, indicating that Shayna had paused with enough time to process her actions and realise that Ryan was already incapacitated.
Those who testified for the prosecution, including Audrey Bolte, spoke of the victim’s humour and gentle nature. According to those closely aware of the tumultuous relationship, Ryan was extremely non-confrontational and often sought help with escaping the toxic cycle he had become entangled in with Shayna. Friends argued that he prolonged his own torment by remaining in the relationship just to avoid upsetting her, and ultimately this thoughtfulness was the catalyst for his own demise. Although Hubers had attempted to argue that she was a victim of relentless emotional and physical abuse at the hands of Ryan, the jury - like family, friends and acquaintances - did not buy it. She was found guilty of murder in April 2015.
Following a retrial in 2018, Shayna Hubers was ultimately sentenced to life imprisonment with the possibility of parole. She is currently incarcerated at Kentucky Correctional Institute for Women and may be considered for parole in 2032. If parole is granted, she will have served 17 years in total for Ryan Poston’s murder.
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nawilla · 2 years
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Trying to Scrounge Up Some Holiday Cheer
It’s Christmas Eve 2021.  The Second Pandemic Christmas.  No tree, no visits, house still kind of a pit but I’m spending what university holiday I can get on cleaning my house.  So far M the Cat had a massive puke on my throw blanket and peed on the floor and D figured out how to jump on the radiator.  (And the laundromat is closed.  It’s only open 3 days a week and 2 of them are Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  I was hoping to do CLEANING this week).
I wasn’t invited anywhere this year, but with the pandemic and M’s diabetes, I wouldn’t go anywhere anyway.  Not that I expected to be.  I’ve reached that age when if you aren’t married or coupled, you are usually only invited to events with your own family, and my family is out of state and going extinct.  Both my parents had passed before I was in my thirties.  My grandparents were already gone.  My mother (and her estate) estranged me from most of her relatives.  Then my aunts and uncles started to go.  And by out of state, I mean WAY out of state, 8 hours by car, 12 hours by bus or train/bus, door to door.  I am over forty and have a diabetic cat and don’t drive.  And the Sibling is there.  It’s not worth it.
Despite my total lack of desire to see anyone in person (and being way too busy with work commitments to actually host anything ever), I do try to make an effort for the holidays.  I ordered more than half my holiday gifts before Thanksgiving this year because I was well aware of the shipping crisis, shortages, and supply chain issues that were going to make Christmas 2021 DIFFICULT.  More than half the lab supplies I’ve ordered have been delayed or on backorder.  I could read the writing on the wall.  I ordered most of my gifts from Harry & David (and their sister companies), ordered most of it in November, went to eight brick and mortar stores to get chocolate oranges for my cousin (who is thirty-something, but his last parent died this year and his brother is developmentally disabled so I know no one is looking out for him), and managed to get wrapped presents sent to him AND my sister so they would know someone was thinking about them on Christmas this year.
My closest remaining family has officially dropped the ball.
Now, I am an adult (forty-something) and I know gifts are a bonus, not an expectation.  And I know I did get gifts which I am grateful for.  Several of my coworkers gifted me with gift cards, chocolate and a fricking adorable Baby Yoda duffel bag.  I am grateful.  I have several Christmas cards that I’m not opening until tomorrow morning, and I’m quite sure there is at least one check and/or gift card in the lot (not that I expect it, but my cousin asked if I got the card and implied this, and I explained I hadn’t opened them yet because it wasn’t Christmas yet).  I don’t expect it and I’m grateful.  I was very surprised to get quite a generous gift card from my late uncle by (first) marriage’s second wife, which equaled half the gifts he gave me in the past ten years (he only sent gift cards if Christmas Eve was on a Saturday, because he only actually bought them if he got Christmas Eve off from work and had nothing better to do.  You can see how I’ve learned to manage expectations).  I also am quite grateful for the gift from a college friend and saved it for Christmas morning.
But my sister . . . just didn’t go shopping this year.  So, I’m not getting anything.  First, she said Mid-November was too early to think about it.  Then she spent post-Thanksgiving complaining that she didn’t want to shop over Black Friday.  Then she complained there was too many crowds.  (Apparently on the internet too).  Then she said she was going to pull the same move our Dad did every year (he died in the 90s when we both still lived at home) and was going to go shopping on Christmas Eve.  I accepted at this point she really wasn’t going to buy anything at this point.  This morning she called me and asked if we could reschedule the opening of holiday gifts that she insists we do every Christmas morning over the phone to sometime tonight, so she can open my gifts to her so she can spend Christmas morning with our developmentally delayed cousin (who is frankly so low functioning, he’s not going to care if he sees her or not).  I can only assume she is rescheduling because she got an invite to Christmas dinner, so she isn’t spending Christmas dinner with him.  Oh, she also mentioned she hadn’t bothered to go holiday shopping on Christmas Eve either.  At least I know she is treating everyone like this (or at least family, she is notorious for buying gifts for her friends and skipping family gifts).  
I understand these are hard economic times and emotional times, and I’m not going to criticize someone for skipping Christmas, but if you are going to skip the holiday, be a grown up and say so in a timely manner, not after everyone else has sent you gifts.  She openly refuses to be a grown up, but she’s usually not quite this bad.  
I knew this was coming and I had realized I was probably not getting anything from my remaining (ie. still alive) aunt and uncle either, since I was not told to look for box this week.  Neither of their adult kids (my cousins) get anything for me (and that’s okay), but usually their mom sends me something from the family.  She texted today and apologized that she hadn’t sent out gifts.  Apparently, she just started late, and nothing would get there by Christmas, so she just stopped shopping.  And no, I don’t expect anything, but it’s just a bit disappointing to know that I really made an effort, and my closest remaining family just didn’t bother this year.  I thought I’d have a few more years before I officially became the unmarried single woman no one in the family gave a crap about.  (I don’t expect anything from the thirty-something cousin, he works a minimum wage job and can’t pay his bills).  The family gift cards and checks I do get tend to be from older female relatives who were in this position (single women without kids or divorced-with-kids, though two of them have since married).  Again, I don’t expect it, but I’m socially invisible the rest of the year, it is disheartening to find I’m just not the effort, even though I really can’t take it personally (though I’d be very surprised if my sister got nothing for her friends, that’s not her way).  
And I have cats.  I love them, but they tend to give presents no one wants.  Like dead rodents.  (They are indoor cats, so thankfully I don’t have that issue, but N took down a bat that got into the house once.  She was very mad I took her flying toy away).  
But it’s Christmas Eve, I have food in the fridge, ice cream in the freezer and I’m determined to cook something nice for myself and keep my chin up.  I’m not forgotten, I have been remembered by my friends and I have something to open tomorrow (and a bunch of amazon gift cards to use).  I will make the best of this Christmas and the goal is to have a full-sized tree this year, and I have a fanfic story rattling around in my head and knitting on the needles.  Hope everyone else is having a great holiday.  I’ve gotten my kitty snuggles from all three (and an aerosolized drool facial from D that I really didn’t want) so I know I’m loved.
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Took about a week but here we have it
CHAPTER 2 NOTES!
Sooo, chapter 2
398 IMAGES
this is gonna take a few days 
Even more because we just moved so I didn't do shit for 2 days
Oh well, here's some info 
No symbols = main comment/ theory about the image
[ ] = transcription of the image into text form
( ) = Small comment 
{ } = side notes
□ [n°] not important
■ [n°] important 
Also, I didn't say it before but the guy of the great book of mario for some reason cuts the the video in a way that the text boxes doesn't fully load before he cuts, so some sentences will - because he cut before they could finish the sentence
Well, let's go
Also Also, I'll stack some images 
SUPER BOOK OF MARIO
1□ did he just call maria his "honey"?  [Merlon:why, honey? Have you succeeded a clean heart?]
2□ no I don't think the heart is part of the brain, also what's that about cleansing the world? [merlon:as clean, this is the cleansing of the world, part of your brain?]
3□ your father and what? [Merlon:wh-what!? Merlumina sir?! Well, my father and]
4□ ????? What, morton? [screaming citizen:1000-1000-MASTER-1000, MORTON! NEWS B-B-B ]
5□ take your children? What children? And to where? [Merlon: wich is?!, take your children…]
6□ it's raining girls! Hallelujah it's raining girls! [Screaming citizens:About this…..girls falling from the sky!]
7□ yeah, who in the world are you? [Merlon:what? The girl fell from the sky, but you? Who in the world?]
8□ turn off the girl! [Screaming citizen:I do not know!, just, please! Set up the lift and turn it off]
9□ little princess fishing, now that's a name [merlon:little princess fishing!? Is that a princess kidnaped by count bleck?]
10□ excuse me what? Who? [Merlon:and he shakes uncontrollably, what could be the problem]
11■? sooo saffron is the name of the chef? also why did he say Aristotle? [Merlon:Aristotle, and if once in the head saffron flipsid]
12□ so princess peach is bad and hot? [Merlon:I'm sure you know the recipe for hot and bad girls alive]
13□ uhhh what? Isn't saffron the chef? [Merlon:chef and i are sure he knows the recipe for the poor saffron….]
14□ burned soup, my favorite [saffron:I only need fire to make soup burned early]
15■ EXCUSE ME THEY SELL WHAT?!? [Saffon: Some shops sell explosives, check the shelf you want to buy]
16□ that does not sound tasty [saffron: spicy soup made of sugar!]
17□ 1 seafood, 2 SPOONFULL OF FIRE [item: you have the best seafood!; clean with a spoonful of Fire! complete complete 8 hp and deal with]
18□ get what? [Saffron: get as soon as possible]
19□ why are you disappointed? [Merlon: oh...apparently it worked]
20□ and apparently she liked the soup made of fire/explosive [peach:Mmmm… I ate the best things]
21□ enable what? [Tippi: enable…..]
22□ no you're not tippi, you're merlon [merlon:Kara, merlon. And called pixl, I'm called tippi]
23□ in what way can it be successful? [Merlon:well…. This is the most successful story about Rage and poverty]
24□ I don't know [peach: de mario…..what do you think about luigi and bowser] {why did she say to non translation names?}
25□ what do you mean they can not be identified?? [Peach:Mm. I think you're right… they can not be identified]
26□ what is happening? What language is that? [Tippi:elfosado entre masgalsn…..what do we do for us?]
27■ I think this may insinuate an attack, I have to check if Qatar is part of the persian empire or not [merlon:"Qatar will cross the other…." So it's written]
28■ so merlee or bestovio (or both) are cousins of merlon [merlon:meerlee is like bestovius, and it's like the oldest….. we are cousins who have lost a lot of time]
29□ do not hesitate to do so, it I dangerous [merlon:do not hesitate,  just a break…… and... it's dangerous ]
30□ yes [peach: i can't be anywhere and everyone can be saved from the world and now I am?]
31■ 1 OH SHE WANTS TO REMOVE  ATMOSPHERE (either as in modd or planetary, both are evil) , 2 who the fuck is scanner? [Peach:finally, the lack of atmosphere is my fault, mine and scanner's]
32□ NO NO NO [Narrator:PEACH ATTRACTS YOU]
33□ why can't we control maria? [Narrator:NOW YOU CAN'T CONTROL MARIO, BUT ALSO THE PEACH PRINCESS]
34□ cover the city with what? [Item:you have the best senior foundation!; cover the city]
35■ wait one sec grandpa, what does the European union not know? [Merlon:this is not a secret in this city, the EU does not know…..]
36□ TRUE TRUTH! [Merlon:it can be one of the key to searching, TRUE TRUTH!]
37□ that's one way to call the bad guy plans [merlon:now, mario, prince of peach….do everything to stop the wrong plans]
38□ consult what? [Peach:come on,mario! Go, consult]
39■ HOLY SHIT THE SHADOW QUEEN IS FUCKING BACK [narrarator:when you play as princess peach, you can use your shadow in diferent ways]
40■ okey so, the shadow queen is technically here, however, it's less it controlling peach, but peach being a greater evil and controlling the shadow [narrarator: also click on down to use your shadow to get hold of your enemy] {okey, now I want to see peach using the shadows to yeet a goomba}
41□ the guy in the video read pad as pan, sooo yeah [peach description:HIDE IN TIN PAD]
42□ press the key [Thoreau description:press the key]
43□ this is the second time someone called maria a monsters, that's fair, she did help a group of gods with their plan of killing all non believers, but she was possessed sooo yeah [sign:it's on the edge of the page, tips for the monster]
44□ rate of pain drops to 0 [sign:HELLO!, HERO, pain? Try otherwise! It's pretty easy!]
45■ THE HEART OF THE FUTURE PILLAR, now that's a cool name [sign:the heart of the future pillar → , the best way to search? CONTINUE!]
46��� compliments for the persian language [narrarator: marius, who is part ofthis guide and comments on these words, complements to the persian empire]
47□ what do you mean a long term secret? [Narrator:do not risk it, but add a long-term merlee secret]
48□ uhhhh what? [Narrator:he knows that knowledge is a small reward for poor understanding]
49□ that's one chapter name [chapter 2-1?: I smoke at merlee]
50□ tippi does not like this adventure [tippi:it was not clear before. Sooo…… however, no way]
51□ the best change the door [item: you have the best change the door; key door to glass]
52□ yes, go to merlee castle [slave:go for walk! Go to merlee castle right?]
53□ Ali? What do you mean Ali? [Slave: ALI ATRACTIVE GIRL]
54□ one second hand calls peach and the next he calls her stupid [slave: do this? It's stupid, sorry….but you must be together]
55□ yeah, times does slow down while studying [narrarator:flowers slowly!  This decreases during the study]
56□ did he just boo us? [Boomer: booooooo i-faq ]
57□ do you wish to explode? [Boomer:well! I push the pulse detector! Want to explode? QUEST POW!]
58□  I won't poo you [boomer:the perforation doesn't feel good...l1500 years! FAQ-POO ME!]
59□ he may be high on Crack, and also offering it to us [boomer:you have to look closer! FAQ-CRAAACK!]
60□ wait it's Christmas? [Boomer:stay awake and ask if someone has a Santa gift.] [1:if! / 2:Totally!]
61□ what test? What are thse questions? [Boomer:for some reason, it is necessary to clean the room before performing the test] [1:Totally! / 2:uh huh]
62□ oh no, anyway [boomer:when someone says "where just friends" you think "yes, anyway"] [1: and how / 2:certainly!]
63□ yeah, me neither [boomer: I do not understand why I've created all these unique questions] [1:you are right! / 2: actually, more than true! ]
64□ these questions make no sense, and I love it [boomer:you will sleep when you are awake, but when you get sick you want up] [1:that's all! / 2:always]
65□ here, Have a good mood :) Also is the sss a name or is he a snake?[boomer:have a good mood, BLAME, SSS]
66□ you can, I DESERVE [boomer:how is the mind ready, SAP BLAPPOW!, you can….. I deserve]
67■ that's the Brazilian name of Satan, wait, ARE PIXL'S DEMON'S? [Narrator: pixl boomer called Satanas,  did it]
68,69,70■■■ first triple! Anyway, boomer is called satanas, I'll call him Satan for short, and he bombed a wedding [description: click 1 to go back to the bombing and 1!. The wedding. Turn, with the head head, the enemy, or the dust]
71□ so they got a house now [narrarator:unlike the animal group, mario and his company have chosen a home]
72■ woah, fish king [narrarator: "merlee must be the city" the fish of the fish kings shouted]
73□ when mario will ever be easy[narrarator:but when will mario be easy?]
74□ YEET [narrarator: hope color, our brave heroes are thrown into merlee]
75■ what is FoB? Fist of balls? Fascist of bomb? Faction of BANANAS? [Narrator:CHAPTER 2-2, FoB training]
76□ shoot the clock [item: you have the best mix startup! ; shoot the clock that prevents roadside enemies]
77□ Marco? Who is Marco? Is it Marc? Probably not [mimi:Marco did it, mimi, man's!]
78□ does maria know how to mime? I think not [mimi: you know how to mime!]
79□ the place doesn't matter, why does it not matter? [Mimi: THE PLACE DOESN'T MATTER!]
80□ what is a fucken hemnyckel? [Item:you have the best hemnyckel; key to the house at merlee headquarters]
81■ the desert I gone? [Tippi:I don't know why the desert is gone and we don't give ideas...]
82■ wait, are you talking about mimi? If so, i don't like where this is going [tippi:I think it's very tasty...what is what?]
83□ the interpretation is different, it could be romantic as in recognizing the love, or bloody as a disembodied heart sent in the mail as a threat [narrarator: "Oh, maybe...it seems" said tippi, trying to recognize his heart]
84□ even I didn't understand [narrarator: in some couples, as a broken chandelier, out hero teaches aisles]
85■ payday in a nutshell [narrarator: chapter 2-3, go to bank]
86□ don't you nya on me [mimi:NYAAAAAAH!]
87■ that's the Brazilian word for vase, also what's is this sentence? [Mimi:vazo i love everything more than anything! Did you destroy it? NYAAAAAARG]
88■ so where in the uk? Is that the one where the money is called pounds? [Mimi:vazo is worth 1.000.000 pounds!....]
89□ not sure what that means? [Mimi:so free the money now on! Or are you ready?]
90□ only now you realized how money works [tippi:red? It seems that marius is not specific to me…...ooooh money is taken]
91□ no its not cash back [tippi:it's not like money back, right? ]
92□ mony! [Mimi:currency?! Of them, no one can not use money for farmers? Mony, don't you lose it]
93□ THATS MY BROTHER'S NAME, WHY IS MY LITTLE BROTHER'S NAME HERE? [Mimi: in this way, the generator's authority can only go away from Pedro's place]
94□ a million gums? Wasn't it pounds? [Mimi:when you pay a million gums, you come to the room after him]
95■ maria has a million rights and none of them are respected [narrarator: mario already gives a million rights! EH!]
96□ SEXUAL MUSTACHE [Mimi:first, rubee for a special loan! What can I do for you?] [1: pay rube! / 2:check my status! / 3:sexual mustache! / 4:I love you!]
97■ very dead [mimi:yes, how is God? I HAVE A JOB!]
98□ I think is the result of selecting "I love you" so yeah, that's correct [mimi:yes thats not true,you know I'm thinking about rube right?]
99□ SOUTHERN MALLET! [slave:drag 100 blocks, I'm telling you right, trust, this is the most important information] [1:southern mallet / 2: definitely not]
100□ racism [slaver: I hate black an black hat! So let's work!]
101□ who is rubin? And why did he win? [Slaver:yes, it's a room generator,shooting box, energy, rubin wins! UNH!
102□ ladies and gentlemen, welcome to rubber world [slaver:the rubber world up and down! Do you want to work here?] [1:it's really something! / 2:not at all!]
103□ why does he wants us to fart? ARE WE USING FARTS TO MAKE ENERGY? WHAT DRUGS DID MIMI TAKE TO THINK OF THAT? [Slaver: a new day a new Ruby! Intact? Red live! Intact? Jump to fart! Jump to fart!]
104□ whats a professional ethic?? [Slaver:does the day work?! WOW. It's allways bad. Professional advice: take professional ethic]
105□ what? [Slave:your mother taught you to trust visitor's, right? Yes, the parents insist more]
106□ did he give peach 5963 germs? That's a lot of disease [slave:why are they used? its a secret! Spirit! See 5963, germs, thank you latter]
107□ poor man, Cant see his girlfriend no more because slavery [slave:but I do not know merlee,and now i do not see my girlfriend anymore]
108□ once again I have no idea what that means [slave: glass can accumulate faster than the market]
109□ what is this, YouTube? [Slave:the problem is: you must have an access code to subscribe and meet members]
110□ 1 I think these are dance moves, 2 CONTROLLED CORN [Slave:check all walls,check both sides! Bye! Get down! To the left! Go to! Leave a controlled corn!]
111□ 10.000 rocks, that's certainly a price [slave:rubees are not enough,lips! Visit 10000 rocks! I agre with this price]
112□ that's a lot of traffic [slaver: traffic and traffic and traffic! I'll work, no one knows]
113□ MIMI BACON? FEET? WHAT??? [Slaver:big boss hates darker than old mimi bacon! Then take your feet]
114□ serve crazy rubees, okey? [Slaver:yes, a great break in the other room, here you serve crazy rubees! Uhm]
115■ did he try to emotionally attack maria? [Slaver: very good, sit in the dark and weep when there is a baby, what is important to me]
116□ African animal species, this chapter is very racist [slaver:want to work hard? Very good, I want to cry? Very good, I do not care about me, African animal species]
117□ I think this slaver may be drunk, or high, probably both [slaver:so I do not know what caused 1….but is it simple is it alive? Is it ready?] [1:love / 2: good0
118□ ARRESTED GERBILL [Slaver:arrested, gerbil] [1:I / 2:I]
119□ C4.0.3 [slaver:i think you have to pay, C4.0.3, draw rubees gerbil]
120□ maria is a musician I guess [narrator:you have 60 songs!]
121□ whats that word? [Slaver: uh… all stars are not nitzhilx, but they  are not bad]
122□ why did you need to specify that it's not wet? [Slaver: C'4.0.3 the jerjali rubees are no wet, but not clear]
123□ I don't think Maria's is a sailor [slaver:God! You're a sailor right? I called gerbils]
124□ your this slave got some girls phone number! [Slave:think about a girls phone number or what]
125■ where is the world? It's gone [sin:looks good...and has problems….the world is gone]
126□ biggest excitement! That's certainly a word [sin: why not just the biggest excitement]
127□ more of that weird language, flowerq was it? [Sin:OBDACIVANJE HA!?!!]
128■ wait wait wait, does he have like psychic powers? Not in moving stuff but as in brain messages  [sin:my head told you that you are a hero, where………..good]
129□ do what at the table? [Sin:so do it at the table! After 30 seconds, the handkerchief left]
130□ iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii [sin: I! Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiviv!]
131□ why may? [Sin:may!]
132□??? [Narrator: you can use energy to drop the thin side and avoid enemies or enemies]
133□ how can you be ugly from far away but okey up close? [Narrator:and if you're somehow, you're not bad…..up close]
134■ mario is a millionaire, hooray! [Narrator: mario has 1000000 rubles]
135□ give me what? [Mimi: I WILL GIVE YOU!!!!]
136□ when you take figuring out the lore of a game series translated by Google translate as a hobby there are gonna be a lot of moments you have absolutely no idea what it means [tippi: so this little girl who came to the curse of this house… but what is it?] {Maybe mimi is cursed? Actually that makes sense,like I don't think a non-cursed person can become a spider, so my monologue about not knowing what this means is useless? Cause now I know what it means}
137■ oh, so okey, some of these slaves are from an army, and according to this guy some army veterans died here, also now he's learning a new gerbil code, hmmmm interesting backstory of random npc [I've lost veterans,  I'm studying a new gerbid code…...but it's over]
138□ yeah I don't like corks either [slave: I don't like,e this cork]
139■ wait, is the Generator powered by emotions? And a sudden change in emotion crashes the system, interesting science [door?:unexpected fear should stop the generator]
140□ good fan [door:good fan: today VIP is the last payday]
141□ hairy millions, I don't think peach has that many hairs [slave:I, behind this horrible story, tell your blonde hairy millions]
142□ kangaroo? [Slave:yes, the password is 5963. I did it as kangaroo dang did it…….]
143□ spooky numbers! Oooooooooh [slave:5963…. Spooky numbers]
144■ that's a very interesting question, if you're wasting your life, does it matter WHERE you are when you're doing so [slave:when you are wasting your life, is it important where you are? ]
145□ ah yes, this safe protected by a laser is a theater [slave:thanks, this secret…. theater distance, turn it off]
146□ this is kinda normal [narrarator: mimi's mysterious servant disappears in a strange explosion]
147□ wait, we tried to save him? [Narrator:what was your real plan and why did mario and his friends try to save him?]
148□ peach ladder, okey [narrarator:after the event, the prince saw a peach ladder, "YOU were here!" He says]
149□ why did they think merlee has a problem with us? [Narrator: "Maybe if merlee is here" our hero thought he had problems with us]
150□ incorrect, it's not in front of us, where IN it [narrarator: chapter 2-4, the basement in front of us]
151□ HELP! IM BEING COMPRESSED! [Tippi:Clean heart….I think compression is stronger]
152□ huuuu what? Is merlee married to merlee? [Merlee:merlee is beautiful, mysterious!, wife at home, here she is,you are very happy to see it]
153■ are maria and merlee roommates? [Merlee:I live with you, your arrival is better]
154■ oh no, she's dying, [merlee:I'm angry and can't survive]
155■ milk roots? IS SHE SURVIVING WITH MILK THAT COMES FROM ROOTS? FOR HOW LONG WAS SHE IN THE TOILET? [Merlee:in the basement, the milk roots are my cells, I can not stay….]
156□ huuuuuuu okey [merlee: and...but if….look….what's…..wrong….I do not…..think or…..anything….in]
157□ carry what? [Merlee: yes….I cannot…..carry it...it started…...when…...there…..where many…..an….incrediblespace…..]
158□ that's certainly a name [area name:Kav merlee]
159□ certainly that's one hell of a flirt, little bee [fake merlee:i know that soon we see each other, little bee! He will do it! ♡]
160■ 1 for who? 2 gold? Wait does she own like a gold mine? If you have slaves and gold of course there's slaves mining gold somewhere [fake merlee:for him, pure gold is a pure movement of gold, and I want to mention it]
161□ if you don't want to make a deal, give up [fake merlee:so, if you are sad, signed this line here and hieghek, free and clear] [1: signature / 2:give up]
162■ okay so, the deal they're doing seems to be a house dealership, sure, it's far from darkness, wich I think means it's outside the range of the black hole evilmabop thingy, and has a big room, seems like a good deal [fake merlee:order a loan and a boom! Free donation! Far from darkness! Enhanced mega room]
163□ why is she giving us a recipe? [Fake merlee:you work hard, breadward, corn and bacon]
164□ last argument?, rejection! [Fake merlee:and how it works; your last argument! See now] [1:signature/ 2:rejection]
165□ yeah this merlee is false [merlee:good choice, good….. this is false…]
166□ I leave [merlee:do not listen to us! I leave!]
167□ uhhhh okey? [Mimi:look here! The girl tought she was a scandal merlee]
168□ what lawyer? Also who is "he" [mimi: he is a faithful clerk in count bleck, a helpful lawyer] {is count bleck the lawyer?}
169□ I don't think maria wants to make it ugly, I don't even know what "it" is [mimi:oh, you want to make it ugly right? That's good or ugly] 
170■ once again, tippi just wants to leave, she does not want to be in this adventure [tippi: IM GOING!]
171■ protect my fence? IS JEFF HERE? [Merlee: please be careful! Protect your fence, completely everywhere]
172□ I think tippi may have brain damage, 1st she recently realized how money works, and now weighting only realized that mimi is gonna attack moments before the attack [tippi:they attack? Uh……...what are we doing?]
173□ mario has a million rights, and merlee wants them [merlee:I had to flee...come on with my rights, I hide, see and see]
174■ oh, I don't know what's a cornea but merlee can conquer it [merlee:if you know, I can hurt and conquer the cornea! Hurry, fast, late!]
175□ not enough graphics! [Bathroom writing: stop writing graphics! Stop, not enough!]
176■ so she has control on the fate of the day? But only in the morning [Merlee:in the morning,  it's my game, control the fate of the day….]
177□ your grandmother is terrible and "i" what? [Merlee:my mother's mum is terrible and i]
178□ yes mimi is horrible [merlee: but now you are here: live! This growth is changing today! Soon, mimi was horrible….]
179□ uh okey [merlee: do not compare me like me! Everyone knows that you are mimi! ]
180□ war! [Merlee: come on, man! War! We can come back!] 
181□ merlee 2 just blocked merlee 1 on Twitter, [merlee2:what are you talking about? You bastard! And block!]
182□ do not get disappointed [merlee2: do not be disappointed! Get it now! Now! War!]
183□ the worst person is possible [merlee1:she speaks to us well, we have true beauty…..and the worst person is possible]
184□ who is the manufacturer of swimming pools? [Merlee1:however! What is the manufacturer of swimming pools? You are very good!]
185□ lost in the ear? What? [Merlee2: i come, it's delicious!  You are lost in the ears! I worry that breathing is very commendable]
186□ that's certainly an Insult [merlee1:COWS!]
187□ snake? What snake? Bolivia? [Merlee2:and they answered that they too…..what are you doing? We know that the snake!]
188□ I dont know, how do I live [quiz bot:third anniversary - 66….. "here's the merlee program!", how do you live]
189■ oh! If marco is Marc, so Mar is making the questions! That's neat [quiz bot:should we have to move? Marcus summarizes two questions!]
190□ insects making pants? Okey that's an unusual work force [quiz bot:oh, but not all, pants, from perhaps, insects and SAS, choose us out!]
191□ every single one of these questions are funny [1:when Is your anniversary / 2:what is the best food / 3:what is your type / 4:what I the best animal / 5:what is the best fragrance / 6:what are you entering / 7: what else do you want / 8: what is your Nickname/ 9: what to wash first / 10: what is your best function]
192■ oh, hot and cold succes? Okey so she succeeded on 2 temperatures in 2 floors [merlee2: I started with a hot and cold succes on 2 floors0
193□ absolutely no carrots [quiz bot:no, carrots, verria]
194■ quiz bot said no carrots, also merlee is a Gardner [merlee1:my ears, my work with work has been coordinated for years]
195□ wait wait wait, what's that about last race? [Merlee1:crystal specialist, the last race! Hard to see him]
196■ oh, merlee 2 aka mimi is lesbian [merlee2:I want a girl, thanks! I want you to shake!]
197□ depression? WHEN? [quizbot: now! time for the last question, mankind! Depression? When?]
198□ oh, what [quizbot: this problem can cause more trauma for the children!]
199□ operation? As in the board game or do you want to do surgery? [Fake merlee:and now, if I doubt , it's really a shame! Get ready for operation!]
200□ rah rah Rasputin America's greatest uwu bean [merlee: rah! Rah! Chi Bing trial! Release your password! But what if?…..]
201□ explain what? [Mimi:bleck failed to explain!]
202■ rah rah Rasputin 2 electric Boogaloo, the horny'ing [merlee:rah! Rah! Huss-pa you! Now you can beat me, baby! This is normal]
203□ nonononononono please no [mimi:EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETSS! I was completely naked! How do you know?]
204□ what are frozen? The farmers? [Merlee?:did you know that are frozen for 1500 years! Farmers can wait]
205□ what? [Merlee:light inasomewa, do not you? ]
206□ why did you need to specify that your grandfather isn't a clean heart? Or are you just saying he's evil [merlee:my grandfather was not a clean heart and spicy….]
207□ heart disease [merlee:there is another prophecy,heart disease can only be a heart disease]
208□ we are desperate and wise for death [merlee:here we are in a desperate, choihubiri wise to death]
209□ she does not want maria in here [merlee:no! Get off here! Here are the heroes! Clean the heart!]
210■ blek console? Is blek a video game console manufacturer? Also he made a trap for mimi? [Narrator: the blek console has created an unpleasant trap for mime, Mary and her friends]
211□ now the real adventure can finally begin [narrarator:mario, who still has 5 clean heart, knew this adventure had begun]
212■ who the hell is June fiberglass? Is it the dust hole? [Earl blek:June fiberglass…..ancestor of an ancient tribe…..his power grows]
213■ okey they're running an illegal whale selling operation, NOW we know they're evil [o'kunks:i wonder, look at the Beauty of the whales I this wonderful package!]
214□ how do you stretch a mustache? YOU DONT EVEN HAVE A MUSTACHE [o'kunks:I'll stretch my mustache, wich is worse for me, I will do it]
215□ I'm confused? What [o'kunks:deley of the collar! And take the girl! It has 1000 pages!]
216□ that's an N-word, like the guy censored it but still [earl blek:no! Come on N_ _ _ _, greve blel]
217□ rainy picnic, they just oversimplified the sentence [Dimension:then suddenly, a rainy picnic!]
218□ whats a chord? [???:green chord?]
219□ yeah it is bad [lewis:yes…..OK this is bad, even if it is bad]
220□ it's fun to see you, thats one way to say it [goomba:it's fun to see you! (I think…..seems to be better than anyone)]
221□ very rude, also web browser pog, I'm tired [lewis:so yes very annoying…….I'm looking for princess and web browser]
222□ download in mouth, thats nice I guess [goomba:I hope both are good, (download it in your mouth! Who cares about your friends!?)]
223□ atleast these goombas are educated [goomba:almost well known assistants, many are educated]
224□ it's lewis not lugi [goomba: home… wow, this unexpectedly,  all the stories of the extraordinary work Lugi….]
225□ defenseless defenders, so body shields? Is luaigi {I messed up but I keeping it in} a human shield? [Goomna:we hear you are defenseless defenders! We all do!]
226■ done what? An scape? Actually yeah makes sense, he has never scaped an evil dungeon [lewis:then I have no choice! Luigi hasn't done it yet! I need my fans!]
227□ very simple [goomba:oh, you're the BEST! (Personally very simple, what a fool!)]
228□ is this fucken Garfield?  Also March is the worst month confirmed [goomba:were right after you! (Monday, March is bad, we're still the same) ]
229□ 100-army-army? What does that mean? [Goomba:great luigi is a 100-army-army! (Its better than anything) ]
230□ the first one trips! Also thanks captain obvious we know it's open [goomba: hello! This door opens! You're going! (The first trips!) ]
231□ this goomba is having a stroke, don't just stand there [goomba:we are lucky to have a bad person like you! (I ……..stroke…….i) ]
232□ once again, what are we doing? [Lewis: that boi….. looks like you're right, what are we doing?]
WELL THEN I GUESS 398 NOTES WOULD REACH THE TEXT CAP BEFORE THE END OF THE FIRST SECTION WOULDN'T IT?
8 notes · View notes
operation-619 · 3 years
Text
Satan’s Angel
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Johnny Storm x WOC!Reader
Summary: She was hidden from the world at the age of 16 when something within her awoke. Something demonic. But she has her brother to hold onto when things start to get worse, because he’s there for her. Right?
warnings: language, blood, violence, mentions of medical problems. mentions of needles, abuse and torture. 18+
WC: 2.2K
masterlist I Chapter 2
So I wrote this ack in my Quotev days, and I decided to edit it - because it was atrociously written. And I’m now posting it on here so I hope you enjoy my loves 
-619x
The world has never been in my favour, I realise that now.
I should’ve realised it years ago.
But standing here looking my estranged brother in the eyes; I finally realise that the world has led me on a path that had to end this way, no matter how hard I tried to swerve and dodge the upcoming circumstance, I would always end up staring at my brothers empty eyes, with my hand deep in his chest.
Killing him. Killing my brother.
She sat there, waiting for the pain to embrace her like a long-lost cousin. She knew it was time; her heart was spasming, she could hardly breathe. Her eyes were watery, tears sliding down her face.
Yet she sat there at the edge of her bed staring out the window that occupied the whole wall opposite her bed. She could see the mountains from her bed so clearly. It was as if she was there.
If she was there.
Her chest moved erratically, her cheeks soaked with tears, yet she sat calmly; pondering, wondering, daydreaming about a life outside these four walls that kept her trapped in her own mind.
A mind that kept her sane and crazy all at the same time. She would dream up stories of a handsome young prince saving her with a fiery kiss. Or most times it was a nightmare, a world made of purple skies and vibrant green grass, set aflame; with bodies lying across the ground as she ran with some man, her hand in his so he wouldn’t lose her, the other hand on her belly housing a precious creature. She never got the end of the nightmare because she would wake up just before a monster jumped on top of her.
She would always jolt up, sweat weighing heavy on her skin, a scream rising up her throat along with bile and the feeling on nostalgia. She hated how she knew the place she was dreaming of yet couldn’t place a finger on it.
Before she could ponder anymore, she felt the first flicker of pain, it started at the bottom of her spine, and oh-so painfully started to spread across the rest of her rigid body. She drew in a ragged breath as the pain wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed. She clenched her eyes shut tight and tried soothe her breathing, but the hand around her heart squeezed harder. She gasped out in pain and rolled forward; landing on the floor on her knees as her hand started to scrape at her chest, desperately trying to remove the hand off of her heart. It was as if it was laughing at her attempts because next thing she knew, the hand squeezed so hard she fell forward onto her hand and screamed.
She screamed so loudly, black dots clouded her vision and danced around her. Her throat felt sore, but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
Her body shook as sobs replaced the screaming in a matter of seconds. She hated this, for the past eight years it just seems to be getting worse. Ever since she surpassed her sixteenth birthday, all it has ever been was pain, pain and pain. It was tenfold as worse as it used to be. Before her sixteenth birthday it was like a build up to the pain she was feeling now. Minor headaches, to migraines, to temperatures either too hot or too cold. No one knew what was wrong with her. Not even the best doctors’ money could buy. And if it wasn’t for Victor she wouldn’t be here, with round the clock care to make sure she is okay, she knew that he loved her even though he wasn’t around as much as he used to be. She knew.
Of course, he loves you. Your all he’s got, and vice-versa.
The thoughts echoed around her head, bouncing painfully off her head.
The vibrations of the floor let her know that the people were on their way.  Moments later she felt her body being lifted from the floor, she felt herself slump against the broad chest of some man, she given up fighting against the pain and just let it take over her system. She couldn’t stop the tears, the echoed the lack of control she had over her own body as the gushed down her paling face.
“Hush now, close your eyes. I’ve got you.” The deep voice vibrated through her body, it felt oddly familiar and through all the pain she managed to look up into the familiar blue eyes of her brother.
“Vic- “her words fell short as she lost the energy to speak, instead she used all her energy to place her hand onto his smooth cheek.
“Hush, it’s okay. I’m here now.” With that statement she let her eyes roll to the back of her head, as the pain drowned her in its last tidal wave.
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  Victor released a long ‘huff’ as he stopped at another traffic light. He regretted coming back to New-York at 14:00 pm when the streets would be busy with the afternoon rush. He rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arms rest and looked on through the divider, he smirks as he saw his driver’s hand gripping the wheel tightly out of frustration too.
His attention was quickly drawn to his phone when he heard the ringtone brake through the silence in the car; reaching into his jacket he removed his phone from the inside pocket of his black Louis Vuitton suit jacket.
‘Her vitals are erratic again; she’s going to go into Comatose. But I think it’s best if you came over. You can get the samples you need.’
The text message was all he needed for him to clear his throat and say;
“Michael, turn back around to the airport, please. We’re going to visit my sister.” With a nod from Michael, the car was swiftly turned around and quickly driven back to the airport. He sent a text to his pilot, telling him to ready the helicopter that will bring him to the facility he has in the Alps, which is coincidentally where he is keeping his sister.
Victors blue eyes grew stormy as he remembered how much pain his sister has been through in the past few years, the undiagnosed tantrums her body would throw sent his sister into an unbreakable cycle of pain and then unconsciousness. He knew deep down that one day she’ll have an episode that she won’t concur.
He remembers the first time it happened; he was stepping through his front door. He barley even had time to take his jacket off before he heard a scream that made his blood curl, rushing upstairs he was met with a sight that had the breath taken out of him, there hunched on the bed was his sister.
Head clasped between her hands, nails digging into her skin as if she was trying to peel her own skin off, her lower face was covered in blood from her nose, and her eyes were screaming for help, for an escape that she was so desperately seeking.
Victor rushed forward and attempted to prise her hands off her head. But was met with a force that had him crashing into wall next to the door. He looked up and saw his sister looking at him with unnatural black eyes and a hand pointed towards him with her palm open. Her eyelids fluttered before they were back to their normal hue.
“Help me…” her voice came out hoarse and timid before she convulsed onto the ground.
Surging forward Victor managed to catch her head just in time before it hit the corner of the bed frame. His vision was blurry as he looked at his sister, her head cradled in his lap as he tried to steady her from the excessive shaking.
His ears picked up the sirens and then the sound of the door getting thrown open as paramedics came rushing upstairs.
Yet he couldn’t move, his body wasn’t registering what was actually happening.  
Their voices all became mumbled as he watched them pry her out of his grip, he tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t move it just stayed there, hanging open like a fool.
He continued to stare at the group of paramedics struggling to hold his sister still as he felt two pairs of hands under his arms to haul him up.
‘Come on son.’ The voice sounded so distant and foreign to him as he let the two strangers support his weight as it appeared his own legs couldn’t do that. He hazily watched as the world around him moved without some much of a struggle. Next thing he knew he was sat on the curb with a blanket wrapped around him. Apparently for the shock.
Fuck that.
His head snapped to the side as he heard the shouting of the paramedics as the rushed his unconscious sister out of the house; one split off from the group and came over to him.
“Are you the boyfriend?” Victor shook his head, eyes trained on his sisters’ body being hauled into the back of the ambulance.
“Brother,” he managed to rasp out.
“Okay then that’s even better. Can you tell me anything about her?” His eyes stayed trained on his sister as the paramedics sorted her out in the back, the doors were wide open so he could see what they were doing.
“Yeah, yeah.” He numbly nodded. Half listening to what the man was saying.
“Any mental illness, inherited disorders from the family?” Victor continued to shake his head; the man continued asking questions, but they all had the same answer. A shake of the head from Victor Von-Doom.
“Okay can you tell me how old she is?” Victor looked down at his Rolex, his eyebrows furrowed in sadness when he realised what day it was. The watch read back 03:45am.
“October 31st, she turned sixteen forty-five minutes ago.” He finally looked over at the paramedic and noticed how young he really was, said paramedics face contorted into a look of unease. Victor sent him a look of confusion which lead to the boy looking away.
“Sorry sir, it’s just three am is considered the ‘witching hour’ in my religion, and it clashes with it being Halloween today as well- ‘the paramedic turned around and noticed the look on Victors face and cleared his throat- ‘Sorry sir. Happy birthday to her, you can ride with her if you wish.”
And with that the young boy scurried off.
Looking out the window, Victor noticed they were about to touch down on the landing pad. Exhaling unsteadily, he rolled his shoulders back preparing himself what was to come.
If only he knew.
  The steady, rhythmic beeping of the EKG machine soothed Victors heart as he stood by the window and looked out onto the scenery that was suspiciously calming. Now he understood why his sister made him replace the tiny window for this huge one. It was once a wall, but with the extra light and the view it made the room less constricting, less likely of a panic attack for her.
“Hey.” The soft voice barley reached his ears, but he heard it and he couldn’t be happier. Spinning around he marched to her side and plonked himself down onto the chair that he’d been sat in for the past fourteen hours.
“Name?”
“(Y/N) Von-Doom. Victor?”
“No, Birthday?” “Monday, October Thirty-first, three am. Victor please.”
“Favourite person in the world?”
“Steve Harvey.”
“Hey, what happened to it being me”
“You wouldn’t shut up. Your making my head hurt Victor.” She raised a hand to rub her temple, only to hiss in pain as her muscles burned. Tears clouded her vison as she remembered what happened.
“Did anyone get hurt?” She was met with a ‘no’ from her brother. She mumbled a response that Victor couldn’t hear. He watched her as she looked out the window; eyes glassed over and distant, like she was somewhere else.
“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice was quiet, lacking emotion. It caused Victors heart to beat faster. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.
“(Y/N)?”
“I mean, here. Here in this room. Because these episodes are getting stronger, I can feel it. I probably won’t survive the next one. Or fuck, the one after that. Who knows Victor. I need to leave, get out of here. I don’t care where, I just need to leave.” Her sobs grew louder as did the EKG machine, he tried to soothe her, but it only grew worse.
Doctors and nurse appeared in a matter of minutes, they checked the vitals and the machine only to see her hysterically crying.
“Ma’am, you need to calm down for me please.” The nurse’s voice was sweet, almost taunting to (Y/N). She sighed when the girls crying grew louder. Nodding towards the older man in a pair of grey scrubs she quickly caught (Y/N)’s attention as the Doctor came forward and injected her with a mild sedative.
With in seconds the room grew quite as they all watched (Y/N)’s eyes close slowly.
Just before she went completely under; Victor cupped her cheek.
“I need you. So, I promise I’ll find out what’s going on. You’ll get out of here soon. I promise.”
He watched her eyes close completely and looked out of the window, leaning back against the chair he spoke one last time before closing his eyes:
“I promise.”
——
Chapter 2
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romanceboys · 4 years
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(interview) vogue korea april issue 2020 - perfect taemin
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1. superm was another chance for taemin’s ever-evolving performance to be showcased. i thought a lot about how to create synergy with these exceptional performers. to put it simply, i wanted us to come off as energetic. but these days i’ve had a change of heart. our identity is definitely important. rather than just working hard, for superm to show off their colours well we need to show our personalities; we should be seen as one team. to be able to formulate a solid and clear colour is our homework. that’s why it’s regrettable. we couldn’t come up with a novel choreography to carry our new identity. we tried a lot in the practice room. superm seems to have found its musical identity but hasn’t gotten a hold of its performance character yet. the stages are too vague. 2. now that you are finally promoting with your best friend kai in one group, you two must’ve shared your concerns. since this friend is someone who has a lot of passion and ambition, he talks about various things. for instance, this style is pretty good, this choreography is quite trendy. thanks to him i’ve learned a lot. he is also very knowledgeable about the latest ‘hottest’ genres. we talk about these things often and even watch videos together. kai gives off ‘popular’ vibes. compared to him, my interests are quite unusual. nowadays kai is interested in music while i am into science. 3. is it science fiction? these days we’ve been watching videos on the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics together. 4. what aspect of it interested you? originally i was very curious, after seeing a recommended video on youtube i learned about quantum mechanics for the first time. i couldn’t understand the explanation, even those who were explaining it said it was a difficult concept. that was very fascinating to me. kind of like magic.  5. are you reading books on the subject too? the subjects of the books i read are different (laughs). there’s a book that was published long ago called ‘regarding the pain of others.’ it is a pessimistic book that gathers contradictory opinions of people for instance ‘people find joy in the pain of others, it is instinctual.’ as a celebrity, there are times when you are criticized but there are also times when you receive comfort from people. rather than blaming others, while reading this book, i began to think ‘people are like that, at most i shouldn’t behave like them.’ my interests are all over the place. 6. what makes you and kai click? we converse well. our opinions almost never clash and we respect each other. moreover, we fully understand our own roles in superm. 7. what position do you hold in superm? since i can’t ask if it’s the main dancer. in pictures and interviews, i’m the center. baekhyun hyung is the leader (laughs). 8. when the conversation wasn’t flowing well during the talkshow interview, i saw you neatly concluding it.  that does happen. nct and wayv are still in the learning phase. that’s why i first listen to all of their thoughts during interviews then flesh it out with details later. 9. compared to when you set out abroad as shinee then promoting overseas as superm now, the status of k-pop has changed. looking at how superm was able to start off with an arena tour in the us and europe made me feel that k-pop is a ‘hot’ topic. in the past, we’d use venues of this scale for smtown concerts. even if you promote mainly in asia, seeing the audience section will make you realise the perception of k-pop has changed. 10. though k-pop’s scope has expanded and diversified, its definition has become simple. what are your concerns? my first concern is language. after i was able to communicate via language during my japanese activities, there were so many advantages. though each country overseas has its own language, i felt that i needed to learn english first. there are many international fans who want to experience the chemistry between our members, they’d feel much closer to us if we communicated using (a common) language. k-pop isn’t one dimensional. it’s not only about the music, there is music video, style, etc. included. people would make dance covers in the past, now they even emulate the styling. all of this is korean pop culture. 11. superm were on the ellen degeneres show and jimmy kimmel live. before we went on the ellen show we really rehearsed the interview a lot. america’s atmosphere is different so you receive questions that are never asked in korea. they don’t disclose the questions in advance either. we were also worried because the emcee could ad-lib. we came up with the most probable questions and practiced, we also received lessons from american comedians. compared to that, we went on jimmy kimmel live without any prep. 12. what went according to plan and what didn’t? the questions were not as intense as expected, ellen was well aware about k-pop culture so it went smoothly. 13. is there a dance genre you’re into these days? contemporary, lyrical hiphop, in the future as superm i think i’ll be able to show more, not the kind of dancing that you do after learning a given choreography but the kind that is full of emotions. it’s about giving meaning to your gestures. it isn’t out yet but my concert vcr features lyrical hiphop. in it i think i’m dancing alone with a giant full moon as my backdrop but get confused when there are two of us, either it’s another person or a shadow. a choreographer with a body type similar to mine had to dress in all black to come across as my shadow. i wore an oriental outfit with smokey makeup. 14. how do you usually come up with your ideas? i get inspired by the choreographers and creative directors. i imagine it as we converse then the idea develops. 15. was there a time you were inspired by fashion? of course. art begins with the five senses. what you see with your eyes, the things you can feel, clothes, food, perfume, music that you listen to are all sources of inspiration. i create private accounts to follow fashion brands. 16. having debuted at the age of 16, you are still young but your work experience has been long. i was in certain situations because of this. it doesn’t happen as often now but even in my early 20s, i completely belonged to the senior category at broadcasting stations. they are my juniors but many of them are also hyungs, i’m their senior but i’m also the youngest. now there are even staff members who are younger than me. they’re too formal with me (laughs). 17. are there juniors that ask you for advice or help? the superm members! especially ten, he is very curious. when we come out of a company meeting, he’ll get surprised and say “wow, hyung everything you said was right.” i even hear things like ‘veteran’ and ‘seer.’ apparently my predictions come true. but i try not to advise them as much. taking the initiative to say something feels overwhelming. 18. born in 1993 between millennials and gen z, do you share any characteristics with those in your age bracket? we’ve picked out a few of their traits. the first one is ‘they don’t eat fast food.’ me too! i took care of my health well ever since i started out with shinee. i was brainwashed from home to avoid foods that harmed the body. not even ramyeon, snacks were also banned. and just like that in my 20s i started carrying out the regime on my own. it’s become a habit to look after my health ever since i moved out. i always eat things that are good for my body, if the hyungs are taking vitamins, i’d ask for one too. 19. i suddenly recall a variety show where you were the only one who skipped the sauce and ate the meat on its own! one should not eat irritable foods. my mother’s words. 20. how about ‘they watch videos on youtube rather than tv. even the ads don’t particularly bother them.’ that’s right. i watch youtube more often than tv, while watching the ads i'd even marvel at their production quality. i’ve signed up for the premium package now so i don’t see the ads anymore. 21. ‘marrying or wanting to buy their own house.’ i currently live alone and i have no interest in decking out my house. at first, i didn’t think like that but a month later my interest dissipated. i’m lazy. it’s not like my house is for others to see, i’m fine with the incomplete feeling for now. 22. and finally ‘they avoid investing in financial companies.’ i don’t do that. my parents manage that, if there’s a good tip i’ll just let them know.  23. hiphop musicians tend to express their success through music. as an idol musician how have you been using the wealth you accumulated all these years? i invest in food instead of saving up (laughs). honestly, i don’t spend much. i don’t have anything i want. though i do spend on others a lot. 24. what kind of household did you grow up in? what gifts did you inherit from your family as a musician? i inherited my body type. all of my cousins have model-like physiques, they’re taller and slimmer than me. my mother sings well. my father plays instruments as a hobby. oh, and my paternal aunt used to be a ballerina. so perhaps i inherited such genes? 25. you’ve been doing the same thing for more than 10 years. what is the purpose behind creating music and showcasing it? in the past, i would think i should do well, i need to be number one, these days i’ve become ambitious for other aspects. i take pride in the fact that my work supplies others with positive energy. i feel a sense of accomplishment when fans like my music, i want to make them as happy as i am. everyone’s profession is different but i hope this synergy gained from mutual dependence leaves a good impression. 26. are you still composing songs? i used to but now i only participate in lyric writing. it differs with each song, at times the lyrics are emotional or talk about abstract love. it seems like my next solo album will include a song i wrote the lyrics to. sometimes songs composed by overseas composers might prove too difficult for the general public to understand. so i participate a lot in the arrangement or mixing phase. i point out the parts that should be added to the composition and those that are unneeded. teacher lee soo man does give advice but it often feels like i do the producing of my own solo album. 27. taemin’s originality is the clearest when he promotes as a solo artist. which song has best represented your identity? i worked hard on all of them but there was a turning point. at first there was ‘danger’ then ‘press your number’ was a conceptual performance, the transition to ‘move’ turned out well. i wanted to break out from the typical choreography routine and create my own identity, the resulting performances were ‘move’ and ‘want.’ my next solo album is again different. i’ve been making a lot of changes these days. 28. you seem to have high standards when it comes to composing music. was there ever an occasion where you absolutely refused to compromise and gave others a hard time? everyone is used to it (laughs). it’s something i learned from the head manager hyung who’s been with me since debut. the belief that ‘there is nothing that can’t be done. there is no such thing as impossible.’ another team manager hyung would tell me ‘you remind me of our head’ (laughs). honestly, the staff around me work beyond their given roles and with affection. normally work timings are from 9 to 7, they stay back till 10-11 pm for me. they don’t hold it against me, and when things do well, they too feel a sense of fulfillment together with me. 29. the new unreleased song must be quite different from the original then.  there are already 12 versions of the song. when i thought we were somewhat done, we recently started arranging it again (laughs). 30. you hold your body to specific standards for the best performance outcome. i don’t ‘bulk up.’ previously, i used to work out when i ate a lot but my body would feel weighed down, it wasn’t what i wanted. if i gain a lot of muscles or become thick, it hampers my dancing form. that’s why i don’t put on weight. i train my stamina and strength and avoid bulking up my shoulders and arms. 31. by the way, do you do neck exercises as well? i was touched looking at your long neck in the vogue photoshoot. i had been noticing this too, now i know the reason! i think it’s because i dance. a lot of resistance goes into the neck when you dance. our head is the heaviest and it’s the neck that supports it. it goes away when i rest for a few days. we’re shooting amidst the superm tour maybe that’s why it looks thicker now.  32. an editor who has been watching you closely for a long time said that you’ve become extroverted. could it be that experience and relationships have made you comfortable and secure? i’ve lowered my guard. i couldn’t reveal my current self to others before. as a child i used to be so introverted that i’d hide behind my mother when strangers would get into the elevator. i changed with time.  33. is your ever-present smile a product of your personality or just business decorum? i’m always smiling. i even laugh at things other people don’t find funny (laughs). 34. shinee members are currently serving in the army. when they’re on break what kind of advice or nagging do they subject you to? i wish they would do that. we have a group chat on kakaotalk and i always revive it by asking “what’s up” “happy new year.” but as soon as the conversation picks up they only talk about the army. when i inform them about an issue at the company they say “really?” then it’s military talk again. when i feel left out and tell them to stop, they reply with “you’ll understand when you get here.” 35. in your career as a musician, when do you feel the best? when it’s time to reveal all that i’ve been preparing for so long! it feels different from finishing it. the first stage after debuting, shinee’s first concert, performing at tokyo dome, receiving the award... these are the moments that come to mind. 36. watching taemin grow for the past decade has been a huge source of strength. what are your dreams now? there are many. first of all, once shinee comes back again, i want the entire group to give off a feeling of revival. usually after getting discharged, it’s hard to keep up with the next generation, i want to avoid that. i’ve imagined it all when the shinee members return. second, i want to perform a lot on various stages as a solo artist. superm topped the billboard 200 album chart, it’d be nice to enter the top 10 on the hot 100 digital chart as well.  37. you are really talented at setting goals. i’ve gotten greedier. it’s just not for myself but i want to do it for the fans and members, even the staff. they become my driving force. i really am lucky. everybody works hard but i even get the recognition for it. come to think of it, i was given many opportunities and i worked hard to make the most of them, i’m really happy my efforts paid off in the end. i’m surrounded by good people. shinee, superm, many people fill in the gaps for me that i can’t solve on my own. 38. superm’s concert title is ‘we are the future.’ when you hear the word ‘future’ what are you reminded of? first, it’s h.o.t. (laughs). future-oriented things come to mind like artificial intelligence, drones, 3d hologram concerts. then again, in the future, though people might be able to watch concerts through holograms, i think humans will not give up on the tasks they themselves can do. my work will still be the same in the future. 39. the reason you don’t write anything on instagram. i don’t have anything to say yet (laughs). i don’t know if i should make my instagram cool or approachable. when fretting between writing a caption or using an emoticon, i just end up leaving it blank. actually i signed up after my manager hyung suggested that instagram would be good. so i’ve made one but i still don’t know what to upload. i get teased by the people around me for putting up selfies. i even took lots of pictures especially for instagram but... 40. did you not post the pictures? the point of instagram is real-time communication. is that so! i didn’t know (laughs).
translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit (source)
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storysofmyown · 4 years
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Single Father Lucifer AU, a drabble
Plot: Lucifer and his six children process as they move into their new house and Lucifer’s first meeting with Diavolo.
Note: I honestly don't know if i should call this a drabble, a an actual fic or anything like that. But...its not just the normal listing of headcanons so...enjoy???
The front door opened slowly; Lucifer fumbled with the keys as he took the first step inside the house. The room was quiet, the living room was spacious enough for the seven of them, Lucifer sighed while turning around to instruct the people that were moving their stuff where to put them, when a small child went running inside, making a lot of noise, giving the house a little taste of what it was about to go through for the upcoming years.
"I WANT THE BIGGER ROOM" Mammon screamed as he ran up the stairs to the second floor, ready to claim his room.
"It isn't fair! I have more stuff than him! I SHOULD GET THE BIGGER ROOM!" Leviathan ran after Mammon, his goldfish plushy in his hands as the child almost tripped on his way up stairs.
"Stop running inside the house!"
"We only just got here and those two are already running around." Satan fixed his glasses as he entered the room, positioning himself out of the way and looking at the new place that was going to be their home.Even though he was only 9 years old, he already acted more mature than his eldest brother.
"How tiring." Belphie said mid yawn, holding onto Beel’s shirt as not to fall over, who’s stomach only grumbled even while munching on a cookie.
"Well, I don't care about who gets the biggest room, I just want the prettiest one!" Asmo threw his hands in the air, loosing balance for a second and having to hold onto Lucifer's neck as not to fall, the man in question tightened his grip around his child, before moving out of the way and placing Asmodeus down.
Lucifer groaned, massaging his temples before turning and giving the moving crew instructions. He looked over at the four children standing there before sighing. This was going to be a tiring day.
"Why don't you go with your brothers? I'll be here making sure we brought everything, so why don't you guys go explore the house?" Belphegor and Asmodeus nodded before going upstairs were Levi and Mammon were fighting. Lucifer looked at the remaining children, Satan and Beel, who were looking up at him. "What is it?"
"Do you have the list?" Satan asked, smiling smugly at his father. Lucifer mentally cursed himself. He had forgotten the list back in their old house, now they wouldn't be able check what items had arrived. The man groaned before he heard the child laugh. "I knew you would forget it, here." Satan took a piece of paper out of his back pocket. It was wrinkled and the handwriting was messy, but he could read it. "I figured you might forget it, so I made my own!" Lucifer smiled fondly at the kid, who only went smiled and went upstairs with his other brothers. Beel remained beside Lucifer’s legs.
"Do you want another cookie Beel?"
"Yes! No, wait...I...I wanted to help with the boxes." Lucifer smiled at his child, before pinching his cheeks and nodding.
"Okay, let us see which boxes we can help carry. That way we can finish earlier." Beel nodded slowly. After a few hours of moving and opening boxes, finally they had everything inside. Lucifer paid the crew before making his way upstairs, the children were all huddled up in what he determined was going to be his room so that Mammon and Levi stopped fighting over it.
"Okay kids, who is staying each room? I need to know for when we unpack tomorrow."
"I want the one with the balcony!!!" Asmo chimed in, raising his hand, and jumping up and down in excitement. There were no objections raised, so he nodded, to which a small and happy "Yes!" Was heard.
"There is a room with some shelves, can I have that one? I can store my books in there." Lucifer nodded slowly; Satan gave a small smile before fixing his glasses again. Lucifer needed to remind Simeon to bring them before Monday.
"I want the biggest one then!" Leviathan pouted while hugging Henry, the goldfish, even tighter, bright eyes looking up at Lucifer, who glanced at Mammon to see he was about to protest.
"How about this, Levi, i will get this room since i need more space, and you get the second biggest room and Mammon, “Lucifer glanced at his oldest son. “you get the one next to mine because you are the older, okay?" Mammon grumbled for a moment before nodding.
"Well, since I'm the oldest it's only natural I get a room besides pop's, I'm basically the head of the family!" Mammon grinned while Levi just stuck out his tongue at his brother.
"What about you two? Which rooms will you be staying in?" Lucifer looked at the twins, Belphie had his head resting in Beel’s shoulder.
"We want to be in the same room." Beel spoke up, looking pleadingly at Lucifer, who raised an eyebrow.
"You sure? We have more space in this house, there is no need for you two to share a room anymore-"
"We don't mind." Belphie yawned. "We like sharing a room, right Beel?"Which got a nod from his twin.
"Fine, guess that leaves a room for visit or storage. Lucky us, I guess."
"Dad..."
"Yes Beel?"
"I’m hungry."
"There it is, I was wondering why it has taken so long for you to say it." Satan grinned lightly at his younger brother while Lucifer thought.
"Well, I was planning to go buy some groceries tomorrow. So how about we all go out to eat?" The kids cheered at the proposal, everyone except Levi who groaned at the idea of going out again.
"Didn't we pass a restaurant in our way here?"
"Yes, I believe we did, Asmodeus. Want to check it out?" The children all nodded excitedly.
The next couple of days had been... chaotic. School had yet started, and the kids were immensely bored, which meant they would constantly playing pranks on one another, causing problems, fighting and for Lucifer to lose his mind. He was supposed to start working in 3 days, and he was meant to visit the office that day for a quick tour.
And the way things were, he was sure he was not going to be able to go today at all. While he pondered what he should do, a knock came to the door. Asmo ran towards the door claiming he would answer as Lucifer rose to his feet, only to hear a excited gasp coming from his child. "Uncle Simeon!! Cousin Luke!!!" Asmo exclaimed, and the moment those words left his mouth, it was like the army of children had been summoned to the front door and tackled their uncle to the floor.
After a few exchanges and Simeon hugging the kids, those running with Luke upstairs who already seemed a little annoyed, Lucifer and Simeon sat to talk. A small conversation before Simeon reminded him of his visit.
“But anyway, shouldn't you be at the office right now?” Simeon raised an eyebrow, starring at Lucifer.
“Yes...i was supposed to, but i couldn't just leave the children alone and taking them with me was out of the question.” Lucifer lets out a deep sigh as he closes his eyes for a moment.
“Why do you think I’m here for?” Simeon smiled at the man. “I’ll watch over the kids. Now you go and give the boss a good first impression.” Simeon got up from the couch and proceeded to call the kids and say they will play a game. Lucifer looked at his watch, it was almost four pm, they had agreed to meet at 4:30. If he was fast, then he might just make it in time.
 And so, Lucifer started a race against the clock, after finishing taking a quick shower and putting his clothes on, he bid goodbye to the children before managing to get to the office with five minutes to spare. Lucifer sighed as he parked the car, his portfolio in hand as he thought about what awaited him in this new job. Because of the move and the kids expenses, he needed to find a well paying job thanks to Simeon and Silomon. And apparently the boss, Diavolo, as he told them to call him, was in desperate need for an assistant. So...Lucifer took the opportunity and moved across the country in order to give the kids a new begging...he hoped it was for the best.
Lucifer was in front of the receptionist, Barbatos as the man had presented himself, and now was waiting to be called in. He sat down while he waiting, not long after, a red haired man sat besides him, Lucifer greeted him and was planing to stay silent until the man spoke up.
“You must be here for the assistants job, right?” Lucifer looked at the man, taking in his features, he was good looking and around Lucifer’s age if not a bit older, Lucifer swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, i was informed to be here to meet with the boss in order to get a run down of how the building looked and how we would operate.” The man besides him hummed, a curious smile as he looked at Lucifer. 
“Well, if that's the case, i should probably warn you.” The man looked around, almost as if to make sure he isn't being heard. “Some people say the boss can be a bit...how do I put it... extravagant. Think you can handle that?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the man, was he trying to spread rumors? Whatever it was, Lucifer just shook his head.
“Even if that was the case, I wont mind. I’ve heard good things about this place and the boss and i...would like to be part of it.” Lucifer cleared his throat before giving the man a side smirk. “Besides...after dealing with my children all day i bet the boss cant be that bad.” He wasn't sure why he said that, but there was something inviting, almost enticing about the man sitting besides him. Normally he wouldn't give details about his personal life to those around him but he felt at ease with the stranger.
The man only smiled at Lucifer before getting up. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
“But what about-”
“Don’t worry about it, Barbatos will let us know when its time to head back.” The man pointed at Barbatos, who was acting as the current assistant until Lucifer started work next week. The man only nodded with a smile at both Lucifer and the man, and although hesitantly, Lucifer agreed to be shown around.
After walking around for what felt like almost an hour, the strange red haired man had shown Lucifer every corner of the building, all except from one. Lucifer was worried that by now he had been called and was not present but as they were heading to the last room they were to check, Barbatos only smiled at them, which Lucifer took as an indicator that he had not been called yet. So, Lucifer fallowed the taller man into the elevator which not long after came to a halt.
“And to wrap this up, this is the cafeteria. We didn't want for the workers to go hungry all day feeding off vending machines so the order was given to make this room into the workers dinning place.” Lucifer looked around, there were some workers eating and the smell of food made his way to him, reminding him of just how hungry he actually was.
“That’s...actually a good idea.” Lucifer smiled, trying to ignore his own stomach. He should have listened to Beel before leaving the house. without eating anything. He tried to hide it, though, it seemed like he didn't do such a good job for the man chuckled before inviting him to eat. “Oh no, wouldn't want to oppose any trouble. Plus, i really should go up and  wait to be called in.” 
“Awe, cmon on! I'm inviting, and i already told you, Barbatos will let us know.” Lucifer thought about it for a second, and decided to accept the mans invitation.
They sat down on one of the tables after getting something small, Lucifer asked the knowledgeable man more about the company and slowly the conversation turned into more casual talk.
“Wait, wait, wait, so you are telling me you have six children?!” The man looked at Lucifer with wide eyes but an amused smile. “How in the world did you even get any sleep when they were little?” Lucifer would chuckle at this.
“Oh...well i actually didn't get any sleep. But, my youngest is making up for my sleep. He sleeps enough for the entire family.” This would get another laugh from the man, before he glances at his watch, clears his throat and gets up.
“Well, i must say I had a good time meeting you like this. But i must attend some meetings.” The man offered Lucifer a hand, which he gladly shook. 
“Of course- oh, i dot believe i got your name” Lucifer looks at the man.
“Ah right. My name is Diavolo, i am eager to start working with you from this week on, Lucifer.” At the mention of the name Lucifer went pale...that was his new boss. This whole time he had been talking with his new boss and not once did he suspect of it. Diavolo only chuckled at Lucifer’s face. “You should get going. I wouldn't want to keep you from your children that long. Oh! And next time, why don't you invite?” 
With this, the man disappeared. leaving a shocked Lucifer behind feeling embarrassed. After the shock wore off, Lucifer got in his car and drove home, immediately being greeted by his children.
“Daddy!!” Asmodeus jumped on Lucifer, only for the other kids to do the same, making him almost fall.
“Hey, calm down. Let your father at least enter the home.” Simeon laughed, before looking at Lucifer. “So, did you meet the boss?” 
“I...did. Not in the most ideal circumstances but-”
“Oh, i take it he acted like a normal employer  and didn't say who he was until he had to leave?” Simeon smirked.
“You knew he did that? And didnt warn me?” Lucifer glares at Simeon, only for him to laugh.
“he instructed us not to tell anyone. Its his way of getting to know his employees before the whole “work place” relationship takes over.” Lucifer glared once more only to sigh.
“...thank you for looking after the kids.”
“Of course, whenever you need it. We love watching over them!” Simeon starts gathering his things.
“Not at all!” Luke chimes in, he walked in carrying Belphegor who Lucifer proceed to take from the child’s hands.
After Simeon and Luke left, Lucifer was left with his kids. It seemed that Simeon had them play some games for it wasnt yet past nine when all of them were already asleep. Lucifer took them all to their rooms before heading to his. Soon he would start work and the kids school would be opening as well. He really hoped everything went well, for his sake, and his children's as well.
Aighty dears! I hope y’all had enjoyed this...drabble/fic? Whatever, not sure if ill write more like this for this AU but we will see! Also, for those awaiting the scarred chapter 13, i made some progress with it, finally TwT! It is not completed yet but id say half of it its done so...yay! :3 I hope yall liked this, and yknow...stay safe people!!
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