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meetmyblondemuffins · 3 years

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Movie Antics

Warnings: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex

“Tickets for two,” I said enthusiastically to the man standing behind the glass of the old, worn ticket booth. I heard an exaggerated sigh coming from the right of me. Looking over at Sirius, I raised my brows and jutted out my bottom lip, attempting to make him feel somewhat guilty. I squeezed his large hand and further intertwined our fingers. “You’ll live, Siri. It’s only a couple of hours.”

I’d been dying to see this new independent film that had been released a few weeks ago. I had been putting off watching it for some time now because I wanted to watch it with Sirius. I could tell he would’ve preferred being left behind. The entire ten blocks we walked from the cinema he drug his feet like a child who was being forced into a dentists’ office. I was surprised he didn’t throw himself on the concrete; kicking and screaming. Although he didn’t throw a complete tantrum, he did try making up a thousand excuses as to why he absolutely couldn’t bear to see one second of this ‘horrendous-looking film’.

It started from the second we stepped out of the front door and into the chilly breeze of a typical, dreary London day.

“Look how gloomy it is. It’s bound to rain—we should stay in tonight.”

“It’s gloomy every day, Sirius. And besides, I brought an umbrella.”

“But… why walk allllll the way to the cinema in the cold when we could snuggle up in a perfectly warm bed?” I giggled at his suggestion.

“Yeah, I’m sure all you want to do is snuggle up in bed.” I knew that for a fact, Sirius wanted much more than to lie in bed when he’d already try to rid me of my clothing minutes before leaving the house.

He seemed more sex-driven the past few days than I’d seen him before. Everywhere we went, he was ready to go; whether he spontaneously suggested the idea while lounging around at home, or in complete public. Refusing a cluster of his many advances always guaranteed nothing less than spectacular sex later on. It’s like all of his built-up sexual tension was released all at once; It was fantastic.

As soon as we bought our tickets and concessions, we walked into the dimly lit theatre. Scanning the rows of chairs from left to right, I noticed that not a single chair in the entire room was occupied. I supposed nobody was up for a film on a greyer-than-usual Sunday afternoon.

Sirius walked to the first row that was closest to the entrance, leading me with my index finger wound around his. We sat towards the middle of the row.

I would’ve preferred to sit closer to the front, if even just a few rows, but I decided to cut my pouting, child-like boyfriend a bit of slack. Sirius slouched down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest as the lights dimmed to complete darkness. Immediately following, lights of the previews that covered the far wall flooded the room. It was almost blinding.

Looking over at the silhouette of Sirius’s profile, the glow of the projection outlined the miserable look he had plastered on his face. I almost felt bad for dragging him here, but on the other hand, I think he was being a drama queen about the entire situation.

Reaching over the popcorn that I had resting in my lap, I brought the armrest that was separating us to a vertical position so that I could scoot closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and whispered into his ear, his flyaway curls brushing against my cheeks.

“I really appreciate you being here, you know.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, lightly kissed my temple, and rested his cheek on the top of my head. So he wasn’t completely resenting being here after all.

Sirius and I always did things for each other that we didn’t particularly want to do. We wanted each other to be happy, and it made our relationship stronger as a whole. I was awoken in the middle of the night to him leaving to go prank students with the other marauders and he went to nearly abandoned cinemas to watch films that he had no-to-negative feelings towards. It balanced out evenly.

Halfway through the movie (and also the bag of popcorn), Sirius’s arm that was resting across my shoulders made its way down to my hip. He leaned in to whisper into my ear.

“It’s not too late to get out of here. We could go out to a nice dinner, go for a romantic stroll through the park,” he drug out the ‘a’ in park, “anything. Anything you want.” Turning my full torso toward him, I cocked my head to the side as to say ‘why, why do you do this to me, Sirius Orion Black’. His expression was originally full of hope—hope that I thought this movie was as terrible as he’d predicted before we’d gotten here.

“Anything, huh?” His eyes filled with glee. But his face dropped immediately as I said:

“Well, I want to stay here.”

He went back to slouching in his chair, his head meeting the back of the headrest. I couldn’t stand seeing him act like this anymore. There was no way I was leaving this cinema until the film came to an end; but perhaps I could offer him a deal.

“If you stay until the end, I’ll do whatever you want afterwards.” A smirk form across his lips and I knew exactly what he had on his mind.

Moments later, I was once again engulfed in the film. The main characters had defied their near-impossible chances of being together, and the romantic/sexual portion came to its peak. I felt Sirius’s lips sneak below my earlobe and begin a trail to my collarbone. “I said afterwards, don’t be so eager,” I said placing my hand on his chest in an attempt to stay focused on what was happening between the characters.

“C’mon, even these poor bastards on screen are enjoying themselves. It’s like they’re mocking me.”

“Well I’m enjoying myself. And what, is ‘fucking in a movie theatre’ something you were planning to cross off of your bucket list before you die?”

“Well it wasn’t before but,—“ I cut him off with a look of disapproval. “There’s not anybody here, we’re sitting in the back. This is perfect!”

Before I could object, Sirius crashed his lips into mine. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I’d caused him to suffer—or at least act like he was suffering—for a few hours and I suppose I owed this to him. I wouldn’t be missing out on the movie much. It was like I was experiencing what they were doing, but they weren’t in an empty cinema, it was a bit more romantic on their end. However, I didn’t mind much.

Our kiss deepened as his tongue brushed over my bottom lip before it entered my mouth, exploring every corner. His hand lightly cupped my cheek.

I felt Sirius’s fingertips lightly brush over the slightly thin material of my trousers that separated the pads of his fingers from my inner thigh. In a swift manoeuvre, his fingertips slid under the waistband of my trousers and pulled them down, then danced along my skin, igniting sparks as they made their way to my heat. His middle finger slipped past the side of my panties and made firm circles over my clit.

I’d quickly decided not to make this about me. I’d wanted to show Sirius just how much I appreciated him being there, even if I’d practically forced him to.

I palmed his hardening member through his pants and dropped to my knees in front of him. As soon as I unbuttoned and unzipped his skin-tight black jeans, pulling his boxers down slightly, his erection sprung upright, slapping against his stomach. I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes lustfully. He shut his eyes, bracing himself for the warmth of my mouth wrapped around him.

I let the tip of my tongue flick over his slit, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.

“Fuck, don’t tease,” he groaned, loud enough for only me to hear over the booming cinema surround sound. The flat of my tongue glided over his head as I took the shaft into my hand and began stroking, feeling the veins on his thickness. With each bob of my head, I allowed him to venture deeper and deeper into my throat, hollowing my cheeks until I felt the need to gag. His fingers became entangled in my hair, but he let me go at my own pace. I altered my speed and pressure often which made it difficult for him to stifle his moans.

His hand gripped my hair tightly and he threw his head back onto the head rest, his mouth hanging open. I could taste the familiar flavor of his cum spread across my tongue and slide down my throat.

I stood up from the floor and lifted the armrest on Sirius’s left, allowing us more room. I straddled his lap backwards, his chest pressing against my back. The only thing separating us was the thin lace material of my panties. His right hand travelled up my torso, grazing my rib cage and kneading my breast gently. His left hand snaked around my thigh and pulled my panties to the side. He traced shapes roughly around my centre as I let my head fall back to rest on his shoulder.

He nipped at the sweet spot on my neck and I let out a light moan. As good as his fingers felt against me, I need more. I lifted myself up a bit and reached between us to position his hard cock at my entrance. Slowly lowering all the way back down, I gave myself time to adjust to his large size as he filled me to the brim. He continued massaging my throbbing nerves and I rested my hand over his, getting him to apply more pressure. Arching my back against his chest, I could already feel myself tightening around him and he felt it too. I could feel every muscle throughout his body contract. Every time I had sex with Sirius, it always felt like the first time.

Slightly angling myself to find my g-spot, I let out a muffled whimper and shut my eyes tight when I felt his head brush my

G-spot . I slowly began going up and down on his throbbing dick, grinding against him every time my ass met his crotch. With every motion, I felt my knees weaken a little more each time.

Sirius’s breath became harsh and uneven on my neck and I could tell that he couldn’t hold it much longer. Every individual muscle in my lower body starting in my toes began to tighten in a wave, one after another. The pleasure crept up into the pit of my stomach and I reached my high, becoming a shaking mess in Sirius’s lap. His warm load coated my walls and his fingers dug into my thighs, leaving light scratches.

Once I recovered from my orgasm, I noticed the credits of the film beginning to roll and the lights were returning to their original brightness. I collapsed back into my seat and Sirius struggled to reposition himself back into his jeans. I laughed at the sight of him.

“What?” he questioned continuing to fumble with his jeans.

“Maybe if your pants weren’t so tight Mr Black, you wouldn’t be having such a tough time right now,” I mocked him.

“Whatever, I just hope I don’t have as tough of time trying to get them off when we get home,” he grinned, “you did say afterwards, didn’t you?”

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ultrahpfan5blog · 3 years

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Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Season 5 Retrospective

Finished season 5 rewatch a few days ago. Season 5 was an eventful year for the show, on and off the screen. Off screen the show got cancelled on Fox, had a huge public outcry over the cancellation which included several celebrities, and then got picked up by NBC all in 48 hours. It was an exhilarating time as a B99 fan. Lot of stuff happened on screen as well, Jake and Rosa were in prison, team got them out, Jake and Amy got engaged, Rosa came out as bisexual to the precinct and her parents, Holt was in the running to be NYPD Commissioner, Amy became a Sergeant, and then Jake and Amy got married. Eventful season to say the least. Its also my favorite season of the show.

Honestly, this season is about as close to perfection I felt with a season. In other seasons there are at least an episode or two which I felt were meh or problematic. Season 5 is near flawless. I think Return to Skyfire is the weakest of the episodes but its still pretty fun. There are several episodes of season 5 that all rank in the top 10 B99 episodes in my opinion. The show also takes some risks with a couple of experimental episodes. There are episodes with a lot of heart, there are episodes that absolutely hilarious, there are ensemble episodes, there are two hander episode. some excellent new guest stars, and many great recurring stars.

I think the two prison episodes are pretty interesting. Tim Meadows as Caleb is absolutely amazing. He is so likable and low key hilarious that the fact that he's a cannibal who eats children always feels like a dark surprise. He and Andy Samberg make for a fun duo. The first of the two episodes is particularly fun. The show doesn't hesitate to show the danger of Jake being in the prison, especially the situation he finds himself by the end of the premiere. The show does connect one story to the next pretty seamlessly with the end of the Melanie Hawkins story connecting the the Seamus Murphy story which then connected to the Holt commissioner story. There are also a couple of really good experiments in experiments and story with The Box and Show Me Going. The Box is B99 at its most confident. Apart from Gina very briefly at the beginning and Boyle very briefly at the end, the entire episode really hinges on only three characters. Jake, Holt, and Sterling K. Brown's Dr. Davidson. Its a brilliant showcase for all three actors and all three characters. I believe Brown got a Guest Actor Emmy nomination for his performance and he's brilliant as the smarmy Dentist who really is in control for majority of the episode. Braugher and Samberg were old pros with their dynamic at this point and this is fantastic Jake and Holt episode because you completely get why Jake wants so badly to prove that he's right in front of Holt why being cast as the screw up and the idiot in the interrogation frustrates him so much because we know how much Holt's approval means to him. We also see why Terry call Jake his best detective back in season 1 because of how he riles up Davidson to get the confession at the end and getting the approval of Holt that he wanted. Its an incredibly satisfying episode and one of the show's best imo. Then there is also 'Show me Going' which is a surprisingly tense episode in which nothing tense actually happens on screen. The episode does a great job working with the fact that the only knowledge the squad has is that Rosa is on the scene of an active shooter situation. Basically we are in the same situation as the characters. Since all the characters are on edge, so are we. The show does a nice job balancing humor and recognize the danger of the situation.

The season has probably my favorite B99 episode and definitely by fav B99 Halloween episode with HalloVeen. Whereas the last three Halloween episodes were predictable or spoiled from the promos, this one actually threw a genuine surprise. I knew Jake and Amy would get engaged some point in the season, but I expected it to be on the much hyped 99th episode. Instead it can much earlier with HallowVeen and its a delight from start to finish. Its great to rewatch the episode because you pick up little signs that Jake was a bit more desperate to win than usual. First when he says that planning for the heist is what got him through prison time, and then when he says to Boyle that he has to win this time and this heist is way too important. On first watch, these details just slip by as regular overzealous Jake but they have additional poignancy on repeat. The actual proposal moment is handled beautifully in a very peraltiago way where it is both funny and romantic, with Charles' reaction being the cherry on top. There are quite a few strong related episodes that follow. The Venue being a fun return with the Vulture, Two Turkeys being a TWW reunion with Smits and Whitford returning as Amy and Jake's fathers. Its a better Thanksgiving episode than the previous season Smits appearance. Bachelor/ette party is another glorious episode with wild, fun shenanigans with Reginald VelJohnson appearing as himself. Jake & Amy is a very typical wedding episode where everything goes wrong but its perfect in all the right ways. Its heartwarming and sweet. You get more examples of how Jake and Amy are perfect for each other with Jake knowing the inside and outs of how Amy stresses out, and then ending on a wonderful B99 wedding with Fred Armisen returning to make a cameo appearance as Mlep(clay)nos. The episode was designed to work as a series finale since the potential for cancellation was there and while it leaves the season on a cliffhanger about Holt's job, its the sort of cliffhanger that we could have interpreted positively if the show hadn't gotten picked up by NBC.

The 99th and 100th episode of the show were also memorable. The creators chose to acknowledge the 99th episode in a way that most shows acknowledge the 100th episode, in true 99 style. Its a full ensemble episode barring the absence of Chelsea who would return on the 100th episode. Its a typical road trip episode which kickstarts the Holt commissioner storyline. It also is the episode where Rosa comes out as Bi to Charles. This was obviously a big story for Stephanie since she is bi as well and she championed this story. It gets explored in further depth next episode, but Stephanie Beatriz gets to do some of her best work in these two episodes, showing her vulnerability without losing her toughness. Game Night honestly feels very true to not just coming out as Bi to your parents but true to any child who has to confess something that would be against their conservatives parents' values. I think Game Night is a fantastically bittersweet episode and Danny Trejo is brilliantly cast as Rosa's father. The episode positions him as the parent whose reaction Rosa is most worried about and I love how they show that while its difficult for him to grasp the concept bisexuality, he comes around to accepting it and accepting Rosa. But the episode is still bittersweet with Rosa's mom not having come to terms with it. Its also an excellent Rosa and Jake episode where we see Jake endure incredibly uncomfortable situations to help Rosa. Its a characteristic that helps make Jake so endearing that he's willing to cross all limits for his friends.

There are lots of fun and hilarious episodes in between. Craig Robinson shows up as Doug Judy in The Negotiations which is another fun ep. Kevin and Jake get a great episode dealing with their dynamic in Safe House. Rosa and Amy have some fun in White Whale as the Sleuth Sisters. Pimento returns in Gray Star Mutual for some more crazy shenanigans. Gray Star Mutual also has my favorite cold open of all time with Jake leading a suspect lineup in a rendition of 'I got it that way', totally forgetting the crime that he's got the lineup for. Its pitch perfect and I've lost count of how many times I've seen that cold open on youtube. It basically has its own fanbase and introduced so many people to B99. We also get to see Naseem Pedrad as Jake's sister Katie and the end up having a cute dynamic. David Fumero shows up in The Puzzle Master. There are also pretty funny episodes dealing with some serious subject matter such Jake dealing with his own doubts in his ability to do his job after Prison in Kicks and Holt dealing with gambling addiction in Bad Beat. All handled very sensitively.

All in all, this was a fantastic season for the show. I had a blast rewatching it and it ended the Fox era in spectacular note. A 9.5/10. Now on to season 6.

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #raymond holt #jake peralta #terry jeffords #amy santiago #rosa diaz #charles boyle #gina linetti #andre braugher #andy samberg #melissa fumero #terry crews #stephanie beatriz #joe lo truglio #chelsea peretti #peraltiago #sterling k brown

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

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Same Smile

Huge thanks to my wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian and my amazing friend @minky-for-short for the inspiration and listening to me reigniting my widomauk obsession.

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Caleb Widogast did not know his husband, Mollymauk Tealeaf, had an identical brother.

He didn't know his husband had two identical brothers.

He didn't know one of those identical brothers is on shore leave and was sitting on his couch. Not until he kissed him, anyway.

Basically a Modern AU where all of the tenants of the Tealeaf body are identical triplets!

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Caleb dropped his satchel on the floor with a dull, heavy thunk. He tried to find it in him to care when one of the overtaxed buckles popped open and a pen, some student’s papers and a handful of crystals spilled across the hall rug. That could be a problem for tomorrow morning.

But for tonight he’d had a very, very long day. He’d had two seminars where none of his students had done the reading, a lab demonstration that had gone horribly wrong and made him smell like ammonia all day, he’d had to eat lunch on the train to make it to the bookshop on time only to find the day’s delivery was wrong and he’d ended up with hundreds of copies of a medical textbook that was very informative but probably weren’t going to sell very well. All in all it had been a pretty shit day and a burst buckle was not going to muscle its way in on top of all that.

Caleb had a very narrow, very selective list of what was going to be allowed in the rest of his day. And top of that list was finding his husband, slumping down next to him and pressing his face to the curve of his neck where the scent of his perfume was the strongest. Next on that list was letting his son sit on his lap and do that adorable thing he’d been doing lately where he rubbed his head all over his papa while babbling contentedly, almost like he was just telling Caleb about his day. Next was his daughter curling around his shoulders and purring loudly right next to his ear.

And that was about it, honestly. Maybe a cup of tea.

Caleb hung up his coat and scarf, both of them still dusted with drizzle from outside, kicking his shoes into the corner. He half considered going and putting his pyjamas on but that wasn’t on the list, he just needed to have Molly run his fingers through his hair to work the knots out of it and tell him everything was okay, that he was home now.

Molly was curled up on the sofa, the slightly tatty one with it back to the door. He had his hair loose, just pushed back from his face with a thin leather headband. It looked nice, Caleb made a vague mental note to tell him so.

“Hey,” Caleb leaned over the edge of the sofa, already smiling just from the closeness, “You would not believe the day I’ve had…”

He didn’t give his husband a chance to answer, just kissing him softly, catching his lips halfway through forming a word. Caleb melted into it, putting his hand to his face, stoking his thumb across a cheek that was slightly rougher than he remembered it being that morning.

Caleb froze, eyes snapping open.

He yanked himself backwards, face completely expressionless as he stared at this person he’d just kissed. This person who absolutely, definitely was not his Mollymauk.

That person grinned crookedly, “I think you’re still having it, Red.”

Whenever Caleb was confronted by sudden panic, his brain chose to cope with it by shutting down entirely, by going into some kind of distant stand-by mode like a computer overwhelmed by a virus and choosing to simply crash in response.

Which was probably why he responded to this stranger that looked exactly but not exactly enough like his husband, sitting on his sofa and who he’d just passionately, mistakenly kissed, by opening his mouth and saying, “You’re not on the list.”

The stranger’s lopsided grin didn’t fade, the same sharp teeth that lived in Mollymauk’s mouth flashing but a few of these were cracked, one entirely made out of dentist’s acrylic, like this person had been punched in the face a few times. They were also wearing black leathers mostly, a sleeveless tunic that billowed out into a coat, a tight white shirt underneath and close fitting pants. And the tattoos weren’t right, he had them for certain but the designs and placement were wrong, these were heavily done in stark black and showed mostly waves and coordinates and compasses. They looked like homemade stick and poke jobs. The jewellery wasn’t as heavy either, seaglass threaded onto leather and thin gold chains.

Not Mollymauk. Definitely not Mollymauk.

“You must be Caleb,” they chuckled knowingly, “Nice to finally meet you.”

Caleb was saved from having to think of where to go from there by footfalls on the creaky floorboards in the hallway and Mollymauk appearing in the doorway. His actual Mollymauk, he glanced up and down him and confirmed it- the heavy gems hanging from his horns, the bright flowing coat and high boots, the scars that littered his neck and collarbone, the stretch marks that peeked between the waist of his leggings and his crop top.

What threw Caleb for a moment was the slightly harried, slightly exasperated expression on his face. He could count on both hands the amount of times he’d actually seen Mollymauk look stressed like that. Also the fact that he was holding a tray on which he’d actually gone to the effort of arranging two mugs that almost matched, sugar in a little bowl, a milk bottle, a handful of spoons.

Molly’s red eyes flickered between them for a moment before his face slumped into an expression of equal parts guilt and defeat. Like the face of someone who’d forgotten to water someone’s beloved houseplant and had been caught in the middle of replacing it.

“Oh,” he said in an attempt at cheeriness that was edged with too much tiredness to be convincing, “So you’ve met already…”

“A little more than that,” the Not Mollymauk laughed, leaning back casually and kicking their boots up onto the scuffed coffee table, “Your husband’s a good kisser, Moll.”

Caleb gave a strangled squeak of alarm, all that he could come up with in his own defence while his brain was still in static mode, feeling his face flush a hot, prickly red.

Molly just shook his head, an exhausted kind of realisation tightening his already tight smile, “Um...Caleb, this is Kingsley. Kingsley is, uh...he’s my brother.”

Caleb stared at him blankly, metally tearing through his files for any hint that his husband had mentioned a brother before and coming up empty, “Your...he’s not on my list, Mollymauk.”

Molly tilted his head slightly and gently skipped over that, shooting Caleb a brief, pleading look that promised an explanation later. He moved past Caleb to set the tray down on the coffee table, his tail giving an irritated flick to move his apparent brother’s feet out of the way first.

Kingsley moved, apparently completely unfazed by anything that had happened so far, “He’s cute, Moll, where did you find him? When you told me you’d shacked up with a professor of all things, I was expecting someone a little more-”

“We met at one of my shows,” Molly cut across him, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence, “We were friends for years and then we got together. And he isn’t just a professor, he’s got the bookshop too.”

“Gods, your band!” Kingsley laughed, folding his legs up underneath him instead, “I remember that, you and Yash and that busted old guitar you had...I mean, fuck man, if he still married you after hearing you play, you know it’s true love.”

Molly gave a noncommittal grunt, pushing one of the mugs at him perhaps a little harder than he needed to.

Caleb hesitantly moved to sit in a chair off to the side, still quite unsure what to do. He was so distracted he almost sat on Frumpkin, who huffed and slithered into his master’s lap, glaring through slitted eyes at this doppelganger of someone he already wasn’t fond of.

“But yeah, like I was saying,” Kingsley, cradled the tea between cupped hands as scarred as his brother’s, “The Revelry’s got me running this cargo to Nicodranas and I thought hey, if I’m going to be in the area, why not drop in on my favourite brother?”

“Why not,” Molly repeated, a little thinly, “Without calling or sending a letter or anything to let me know you’d be stopping by…”

Caleb winced a little at the undercurrent of annoyance underneath his love’s voice but Kingsley only laughed, like it was a joke.

“C’mon, you know that’s not how I work, Moll. I never know where I’m going to be heading or when. I’m just glad I got to see you! Especially seeing as apparently you got married since I last saw you? And popped out two kids, what the hell?”

“Una is adopted,” Molly mumbled, like that was the important point.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kingsley continued brightly, now smiling wide enough that Caleb caught the wink of a gold tooth, “I mean, you’re easily the most responsible out of all of us but still, married with kids, that's actually insane…”

Caleb’s eyebrows rose. He adored his husband but one thing he’d never be able to call him was responsible. Molly caught the movement from where he was sitting next to Kingsely and his cheekbones coloured.

Feeling a sudden stab of guilt, a sudden need to rush to Molly’s defence after he’d done it for him, Caleb blurted out, “Mollymauk is a great dad.”

Kingsley looked over to him, smiling crookedly, “I bet. He was always running around after me and Luce, making sure we didn’t get into trouble...well, as much trouble, I guess. Hey! Have you heard from Lucy lately, Moll? I haven’t spoken to him even longer than I hadn’t spoken to you.”

Molly tensed instantly at the question, jaw growing taut like a bowstring, his quietly simmering frustration igniting into full blown, barely concealed fury.

“I don’t speak to Lucien,” was all he said, voice tight and tense and, above all, final.

Even Kingsley seemed to pick up on that, backpedalling quickly, “Sure, sure...so where are these sprogs of yours, then? I’m so excited to meet them...”

“Yasha offered to take them for a few hours after I realised we had our unexpected guest,” Molly bit off the end of the sentence sharply, clearly struggling to maintain his control. He shook his head tightly, standing up and sighing, “Excuse me…”

Kingsley opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, finally falling silent as he watched his brother disappear in a swirl of his coat. Caleb didn’t hesitate, getting to his feet and moving after him, throwing Kingsley an apologetic glance.

“I’ll just, uh...see what he needs.”

Kingsley just nodded, flashing him a quick smile that didn’t quite shine as bright as his other ones, then just staring into his drink. Frumpkin jumped up next to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

In the kitchen, Caleb found Molly with his head in his hands, in the middle of a long, deep breath. Caleb tried to remember everything his husband did for him when he got overwhelmed, coming up behind him and gently wrapping his arms around his middle. Instantly he felt Molly lean into his touch, aching into it.

“I’m an asshole,” he heard him groan, muffled by his palms.

“You’re not,” Caleb murmured into his purple curls.

“I am,” Molly dropped his hands, “Gods, I haven’t seen my brother in years and he comes here and I didn’t even tell my husband or my kids about him, what does that make me look like to him? To you?”

Caleb shrugged, “It was a bit of a surprise...um, why didn’t you tell us? Just out of curiosity…”

Molly turned in his arms, pressing his face to the curve of his neck, having to bend as Caleb was just a little shorter than him. It was long enough that Caleb had accepted he wasn’t ready to talk about it, content just to hold him and let it pass, but then he felt him murmur.

“I hardly ever see him. He’s a pirate with the Revelry, he’s always off sailing somewhere and...and I try, I used to try but he never replies and I’d spend ninety percent of the time having no clue where he was before he’d just pop up suddenly and I’d have to bend my life around him for however long he’d stay and then have him just run off again…”

“And...Lucien?” Caleb asked hesitantly, “He’s your brother too?”

Molly moved back, eyes suddenly solid and serious, “Caleb, I need you to promise me, if you ever hear anything from Lucien, if you ever see him or he contacts you, you ignore him completely and you come straight to tell me. Don’t let him get anywhere near the kids, don’t listen to a word he says, just ignore him and find me. Understand?”

Caleb swallowed hard, more than a little taken aback, he’d never seen Molly like this, “I promise.”

At that, Molly relaxed a little, “He just...he’s not a good man, Caleb. He’s in deep with this cult shit, just...we’re having nothing to do with him anymore.”

Caleb nodded but a question was pressing irritatingly at the base of his tongue, wanting to push forward, as much as he worried it would upset Molly. His husband noticed, reading his face as easily as he ever had, a tired but fond smile chasing the last of the severity off his face.

“Go on then,” he prompted gently, “Ask me.”

Caleb almost groaned in relief as he nearly blurted, “How do you know they’re your brothers?”

Molly gave a rough laugh, “You mean aside from the obvious, that they look enough like me that you sucked Kingsely’s face thinking it was mine?”

Caleb’s face went up like flashpaper as he started to splutter, “It was an accident!”

Molly grinned, looking a little more like himself, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, “I get it, babe, don’t worry, I’ll take an IOU...but I get what you mean. You’re right, I don’t actually remember growing up with them, I don’t remember actually being their brother. And that’s kind of why it kind of hurts having him around, honestly.”

Caleb nodded sympathetically, “So they just sort of showed up after you woke up again?”

“Yeah,” Molly huffed out a laugh that didn’t have much humour in it, “Imagine you’re just walking down the street one day and some guy with your own face runs up to you and hugs you so hard it knocks you off your feet.”

“I can see how that would be...disconcerting?”

“Somewhat,” Molly sighed, moving to look at his reflection in the microwave door, trying to sort out the mess he’d made of his makeup, “Kingsley just...he’s a sweet enough guy even if he is a flit but...when he looks at me he sees this big brother he thought he’d lost, someone who apparently looked after him and ran around after him and held things together for him. Someone I absolutely am not. And he can’t seem to get it through his skull that I can’t be that person.”

Caleb gently but firmly stepped in front of Molly, taking his hands in his own. He didn’t seem to realise how badly they were shaking.

Molly gripped his fingers tightly, like he was holding on for dear life, like he hadn’t even realised how deep the water around him was until Caleb reached out.

“Honestly,” his voice was a shaky exhale, “I’m kind of glad he doesn’t stick around. He’d realise his brother’s gone for good.”

Caleb took a moment to consider his words, wanting desperately to say the right thing, willing his brain to kick into gear and let him help.

“Maybe if he met you now he’d realise he liked the brother he has?” he murmured gently, running his thumbs soothingly across Molly’s knuckles, “I am biased but I think you’re pretty fantastic.”

Molly smiled softly, leaning forward until he was resting his forehead on Caleb’s, “Thanks…”

“I don’t think you need to pretend to be anyone else,” Caleb promised, shifting slightly so he could press his lips to his forehead. It wasn’t quite the kiss he was imagining but he could tell it made Molly feel better and that was all that mattered.

Maybe so he couldn’t lose his nerve, Molly quickly returned the favour with a gentle kiss to the cheek and moved back into the living room. Caleb decided it was best to give them a moment, making a cup of tea of his own. He lingered over it, holding the warmth between his hands, watching the light outside of their small window turn from the full, deep orange of sunset to a cool blue.

Only then did he pad into the living room, not entirely sure what he was going to find. Of course he trusted Mollymauk but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little prepared to break up a fight. He mentally catalogued the components in his pockets, just in case.

But when he stuck his head around the corner, there were no flying feathers or drawn swords. The two Tealeafs were sat on the sofa together, Kingsley in the middle of another ramble, hands moving through the air as he gestured widley. Molly had an expression of bemusement and vague surprise.

“-and I was thinking I could show them how to tie knots, I swear man, you don’t even know how many godsdamned knots there are,” Kingsley was saying, eyes alight with excitement, “And maybe, if it was okay with you and Red obviously, I could take em out on the ship sometime! Just a little day trip and you guys could come too, there’s a place where you can always see dolphins and there’s seals and I even saw a whale once! Kids would be into that, right? Kids like animals, don’t they?”

For the first time, Kingsley looked something other than blithely amused. For the first time, a kind of hopeless uncertainty edged into his eyes.

Molly clearly caught it, something in him softening, “You...you really want to spend time with my kids?”

“Of course I do!” Kingsley blinked, “I mean, okay, I’ve not been the best brother on the planet but I’m an uncle now. Like, I’m someone’s actual uncle! That’s the most incredible thing and I just really want to do a good job at it. I want them to like me.”

For a moment, Molly looked startled, like he hadn’t expected him to say that. But once it had sunken in, his face cracked into a smile.

“I’ll be honest, Kingsley, I don’t think you’re going to have to work that hard to get them to like you. You’ll see.”

Kingsley looked like that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, his face lighting up like the dawn.

“And look,” Molly shrugged, “You’re not a shitty brother or anything just...just call more, damn it.”

“Okay, I promise,” Kingsley was back to laughing, looking like he was a second away from pouncing on Molly and hugging him, “I mean, I'm gonna be checking in with my little niece and nephew all the time, right?”

“Yeah,” Molly grinned back at him, “I guess you will.”

For all the broken teeth, they really did have the exact same smile.

Caleb leaned against the doorway, eyes warm as he watched them, as he watched Kingsely loudly announce that he’d even brought a present for his new family members before pulling an entire cutlass out of a holster neither of them had noticed under his coat, as he watched Molly choke down a laugh and start to explain why, as cool as they’d find it, a pirate sword really wasn’t an appropriate gift for two toddlers.

None of this had been on his list. But there was something to be said for surprises.

#modern au #widomauk #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #kingsley tealeaf #critical role #please comment!

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sohotthateveryonedied · 3 years

Text

I’ll Make a Million Mistakes

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”

“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”

“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”

“Y’all need Jethuth.”

Bruce likes to think of himself as a patient man. Even more, he’d like to think it’s a trait he earned all on his own, but anyone who’s met him would testify that he inherited his patience from the man who raised him, and Bruce would have to agree. This level of restraint he possesses is an acquired skill—one that is reserved for the world’s best butlers and for fathers of six. Karen from the PTA wishes she were on Bruce’s level. His exceedingly calm temperament is the only reason Bruce doesn’t melt into a puddle on the ground now, his bones turning into a milky froth because Jesus fucking Christ, hasn’t he had a hard enough night as it is? No person should have to spend two hours solving riddles because Eddie was feeling manic tonight and then be forced to come home to human children. Duke smiles around a mouthful of bloody gauze. “In my defenth, I’ve never even had a cavity before.” “No, you just got your tooth knocked out.” “Teeth.” “What?” “Ith acthually teeth, plural. I lotht two of them.” Bruce facepalms. “Goddamn it.” He ignores the giggles from his other kids, all of whom apparently decided they needed to be present for this conversation. He’s picking his battles tonight.

“Ith not my fault!” Duke points over at Tim, standing against the Batcave’s wall minding his own business. “Ith hith fault.” “It is not. Bruce, don’t listen to him.” “Oh, yeah? Who knocked me into the railing in the firtht plathe?” “That was Jason’s fault. He’s the one who threw the football.” “Actually,” Jason chimes in, “that was Cass. I was an innocent bystander.” “Liar,” Cass says. “Don’t call me a liar.” “Liar.” “You’re the liar. She’s framing me, Bruce, I swear to god. I’ve never done anything wrong to my siblings in my entire life.” Dick makes a spluttering noise. “You once threw a pineapple at my head because I was breathing too loudly!” “And I don’t regret it one bit.” Bruce sighs. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He gently grasps Duke’s chin, being mindful of his sore jaw. “Where?” Duke pulls out the wad of gauze and opens his mouth wide. He points at the space where his front tooth used to be, then a canine on the bottom left which now consists of half a white shard. “Ith thith one and thith one.” Bruce hums. “I can get you a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll put a couple of caps in and you’ll be good as new.” He’ll have to rearrange a few things in his schedule. At least now he has a valid excuse to skip racquetball with Clark. There is no logical reason a bumpkin from Kansas should be better at racquetball than Bruce is, there just isn’t. “Tho my thmile ithn’t permanently ruined? Thath a relief. Thethe babieth are my betht feature,” he says, all the while bloody saliva dribbles from his lip like a deranged vampire. Best feature, definitely. “Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.” “I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.” “Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.” “Y’all need Jethuth.” “At least it’ll make for a good story one day,” Tim says. “Everyone loves scar stories.” Jason snorts. “People actually like death stories more, but go off I guess.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jay. Find new material.” “You want new material? Check this out.” Jason tugs down the collar of his sweater. He shows off the mostly-faded autopsy scar sliced up his torso and to his shoulders. Bruce winces. Dick yawns. “So? You got autopsied. Big whoop. Scars don’t count if you’re dead when you get them.” He tips his head down, parts a section of his hair with his fingers to show off the fresh scar on his scalp. “Talk to me when you get shot in the head.” Tim rolls his eyes. “You realize how stupid this is, right? We shouldn’t be arguing about who has the worst bodily trauma.” “Why,” Jason says, “because you know you’d lose?” “Because I’ve got you both beat.” He pulls up his t-shirt to display the surgical scar on his abdomen. “Missing spleen. Beat that.” “I lost a kidney. Kidney trumps spleen any day.” Cass rolls up the leg of her shorts to show off her bullet-riddled thigh. “Connect the dots. I win.” “But have you lost a vital organ?” Tim asks. “No.” “Spleens aren’t that vital,” Dick says. “Fuck off, at least you still have one.” “I would prefer to keep my organth,” Duke says. “Juth thaying.” “And you will,” Bruce assures him. “Probably.” “Probably?” “Look, I’m tired. We’re all tired. Can we schedule the scar contest for a later time when I’m hopefully not here to witness it?” Maybe he can ask Alfred to drug his tea from now on. At least then he can rest easy in a drug-induced slumber, knowing all the while that he’s missing the kind of petty arguments no parent should have to hear. “No one said you had to be here,” Dick says. “Anyway, Bane once slammed me against a wall and now my hip throbs when it rains.” “At least your wrist doesn’t click when you move it at the right angle.” Jason shakes his wrist next to Tim’s ear. Tim cringes. “You’re all amateurs,” a new voice says, and Bruce wants to die. Damian and Stephanie appear to have returned from patrol, still in their uniforms. “Try having your entire spine replaced.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “Great, it’s time to hear Damian talk about how much better than us he is. My favorite activity.” “Shut up, Drake. You’ve never experienced pain.” “I got blown up once! I still have burn scars all over my neck and shoulders!” “Eh. I’ve had worse.” Steph grins and holds up her left hand, just happy to be included. (Note to self: ponder whether Stephanie is secretly a golden retriever in human form.) “I have no feeling in these three fingers.” She pokes them to demonstrate. “And should I mention that I was tortured by Black Mask once? No? Because power tools were involved, in case anyone was wondering.” “Do I need to reiterate that I once died in an explosion?” “Jason. Little wing. I’m begging you to shut up about your death.” Cass points to a spot on her ribcage. “Two ribs made of metal. Got shattered during a fight. Four years old.” “My dad used to burn me with cigarettes every time I was bad, so...seven times a week, more or less.” “Oh, same!” Jason and Steph high-five. “My grandfather broke my arm in two places when I made a mistake during a training drill. He made me fight assassins for three hours straight afterward without so much as an ice pack.” Duke looks horrified. “Are you guyth okay?” “No offense, but none of you should talk unless you’ve gone through childbirth.” Stephanie rolls up the top portion of her Batgirl suit just enough to show off the scar across her lower belly. “You think getting blown up is hard? Try spending three hours in labor and having a baby ripped out of you. That’s hard.” Jason wipes away a fake tear. “Boo-hoo, someone had a baby when she was a teenager. Human reproduction doesn’t involve being beaten to death with a crowbar.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jason!” “Indeed,” Damian agrees. “Being stabbed by your clone is far worse than being caught in a little explosion. And I can take a crowbar beating in my sleep.” “I’m gonna kill him, Bruce. I’ll kill him right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it.” Bruce sighs, closing his eyes. “Duke, there are painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need them. I’ll text you the time of your dentist appointment. The rest of you, please refrain from talking to me for the rest of the night.” Bruce walks away toward the manor, silently praying that he can forget this conversation ever happened. “Hey, who wants to see where Killer Croc bit my ass once?”

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

Text

The Spirit of Christmas

Did someone order a Christmas fic? Oneshot. Erik is being hassled by his annoying neighbor.

Erik's eyes drooped as he looked down on the overgrown child standing before him, short, bundled up, and grinning in a hideous bulky sweater that Christmas threw up. Gold bells dangled from her sleeves. There were multicolored puff balls. His four-year-old play niece couldn't even make anything that ugly. Wasn't she embarrassed? No, she'd have to be somewhat aware for that to kick in.

From the moment she knocked on his door back in April with that same unsettling grin and an offering of rabbit-shaped cookies to let him know she was his new neighbor, he knew there was something wrong with her mentally, he just didn't know what. Needless to say the cookies went in the trash and from then, he'd made it a point to avoid her. He'd tried! On God he had, but as hard as he tried was as strong as she would not let that happen.

What went through that happy little empty head of hers? Did it sound like air blowing through or were there little dancing elves singing all day like Smurfs? As she beamed up at him, he didn't like the hope in her eyes. She was gonna ask for something and it was never anything simple like sugar or flour.

"Merry Christmas neighbor!" Her large dimples sank in. She looked sneaky.

He threw the door shut, but stopped when he heard a loud squeak. Her hand was in the crack blocking the door from closing in her face. That had to have hurt. Opening the door, he started to ask if she was okay but she spoke first, rubbing her hand with a slight wince.

"I've been watching you."

His eyebrows went down knitting together.

"I've seen a lot.. Things you don't think I've seen," she bragged with a smug cross of her jingling arms. Erik stiffened thinking of the bands of cash sitting out on his coffee table.. drugs in a duffel on the floor. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh?" His eyes flickered to the neighboring apartment doors as he wondered who else was watching. "What you see?"

She pushed her index into his chest. "You haven't had visitors since I moved in! No friends.. no family!"

Erik exhaled his relief. "I'm not a people-person."

"If you're a people, you're a person. That makes you a people person," she chirped. Again she made no sense. Erik took a long blink closing the door more carefully this time. "Wait," her hand jetted out again. It was the other hand now blocking the door from shutting.

"What do you want, Jessica," Erik waved impatiently leaning with his elbow on the door frame.. partially to support his resting weight and partially to keep her out. She liked to be nosey looking into his apartment past his body, craning her neck to get into his business.

"I'm doing Christmas in Pittsburgh with the fam, come with me."

He almost spit.

"No."

She blocked the door again and he rolled his eyes putting his head briefly on the door.

"Jessica, I'm tryna be nice 'cause I don't know quite what's wrong with you... but you pushing it."

"It's Christmas spirit! Oh Erik, can't you feel it? It's all around us! 🎵 Christmas is the time of year for being with the one's we love. Sharing so much joy and cheer," she sang. "What a wonderful fe'-"

"PLEASE..."

She froze.

"Don't sing..," he whispered. "Look I have plans. Thanks for the invite but I can't make it."

"Hm." Her finger pointed hard and accusingly. "Erik Stevens you're lying to me! You spend every holiday here in this apartment. I know!" Looking around first, she leaned forward. "I check..."

"With who?"

"This won't do! You gotta get into the festivities, it's Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year!"

"Busy."

"But-"

That was all she got out before the door closed in her face. Erik didn't like holidays. To him, they were regular days but worse because everyone seemed so damn happy as if reality had somehow slipped away. He couldn't just forget real life so easily, he wasn't built that way. Finishing his count, he stored his cash and started on dinner.

"A man fires a rifle for many years and he goes to war. He comes home and he sees that whatever else he may do with his life like build a house, love a woman, change his son's diaper but he will always remain a jarhead," Swoff said onscreen as Erik shoveled a forkful of cheesy pasta into his mouth. This was reality. War, death, power struggle, and debauchery.

A series of knocks on his door had Erik rolling his eyes again. He ignored it until he realized she wasn't leaving then he paused the movie.

"What," he yelled swinging his door open to that same annoying grin.

"Erik, don't close the door! Please, come with me it'll be so much fun. It's twenty minutes away!"

"NO."

"You'll get a present!"

"Nuh-what kinda present? Not one of those ugly ass sweaters I hope."

"Oh this," she chuckled pulling on a bell. "My mom sewed it.. One night and I won't bother you ever again... until New Year's."

"Bye," the door closed.

"Okay okay!" She blocked it. "You won't hear a peep from me until Memorial Day, thank you for your service!"

"My what?"

"I accidentally got your mail one day, you had a VA appointment."

Erik could feel the intense irritation palpable and radiating on his skin.

"I swear, you won't see or hear me just one night of fun," she beamed, blinking quickly with praying hands. Erik sighed looking back at his leftovers to put away.

"Do you promise?... You won't look at me, talk to me, bother me if I go with you this one night?"

---

The ride took twenty-five minutes, five minutes longer than she'd said and she'd sang the entire ride. He was Christmas'd out already. Then he saw the house surrounded in snow.

It was a humble cream colored house with white around the windows and a red door decorated with a wreath. Multicolored lights lined the roof and an inflatable snowman stood guarding the bushes out front. Jessica giddily bounced behind the wheel turning off the car including the heat and Erik was forced to follow her into the residence. The door wasn't locked. They were greeted with heat, strings of Christmas lights, a tall tree decked in pricey looking ornaments, and the sound of old music. Erik knew the song by Bing Crosby.. but he didn't like it.

"Mommy! Daddy! I'm home!"

"My baaby," a woman's voice came, chased by an older woman with neatly arranged grey twists pinned by a mistletoe hair clip. She was definitely a Claire Huxtable type in a white silk blouse, red lipstick, pearls, a red skirt, and low heels. Why wasn't she as tacky as her daughter? Hadn't she made that hideous sweater? She hung onto Jessica, smiling and swaying her back and forth in her arms as if she hadn't seen her in a while.. and then she noticed Erik and straightened. "Ooh. Where are my manners," she smiled looking between him and her daughter as if she were missing something she'd ask Jessica about later in private. Erik felt only mildly uncomfortable. "I'm Ernestine... you are?"

"Mom, this is my neighbor, Erik. I told you he was cute! Ain't he HOT!"

Ernestine's brow raised at her daughter and Erik wondered if something really was wrong with Jessica.

"He has dimples like me! He-"

"Okay dear, that's nice. Erik could I speak to you for a moment?" Ernestine smiled gently but he could read it. She had something serious to say. Following her into the kitchen where casserole dishes and pots and pans of food sat, he could smell cooking like he hadn't smelled in a couple of months. She cooked like his late grandmother and it made him salivate. Greens, shrimp, chicken, ham, mac and cheese, yams, potato salad. He could almost taste it.

"Sorry I'm not really dressed," he offered with Ernestine waving him off.

"Not at all.. Erik..," she paused choosing her words carefully. "What.. exactly.. do you.. know.. about my daughter?"

Erik felt her meaning between the words. "Not much," he admitted. "We're just neighbors. Is she..." He didn't know how to ask it.

"She's eccentric" was the answer. "A little.. different than most."

Erik swallowed his response.

"I know," Ernestine nodded seemingly reading his mind. She must've been used to it. "But I look at it this way.. It's rare that such a beautiful spirit is born into this world, since she was a baby that's never changed. She's our angel.. Please, I know it's not your responsibility but.. look out for her. Will you?"

"Sugarplum," a booming voice yelled from the living room taking the attention. When Erik looked back to Ernestine she smiled and he followed her from the kitchen to see a heavyset older black man shaking Jessica in his arms as she grinned.

"Me next," a younger guy said. From the context, Erik could see it was father and brother. Donald and Joshua who was probably in his early twenties. They both nodded to him as he smiled politely, hands clasped in front of himself. "What you been up to sis? Staying outta trouble I hope."

She shared a few tales from her job. He didn't know she was a dentist, it shocked him completely. Was she really smart enough? Apparently so.

"And I told Mr. MacDougall the SNUGGLE is real," she snickered tickled rosy by her own joke to her patient. She laughed from her nose, forever on the verge of snorting while her family looked at her like she was the baby Jesus. They really did adore her. "But wait! There's MYRRH!!!" Tears leaked from her eyes from laughing and Erik found himself smiling to blend in.

"Oh phooey, Erik, don't be a phoney," Jessica wiped her eye, still shuddering in her laughter. She threw a white pillow from the leather couch at him and he caught it feeling suddenly awkward. "You never laugh at my puns! That's what makes it's so funny," she gasped in stitches. "Mr. MacDougall didn't laugh either. He just stared like he was so confuuused," she wheezed, her nostrils flaring like headlights. It broke her brother who snorted. "I swear I love your faces!"

"Hey hey!" A voice came from the front door as a woman with a brown fur vest scooted inside to the living room with matching brown boots followed by a small group of happy people carrying gifts. They kissed the rest of the family, laughing and talking about everything from rowdy kids to the snow. They seemed like a normal family, everyone but Jessica. She jumped up quickly to take the gifts adding them under the bigass fir tree and Erik wondered what type of gifts they gave and how he'd get one.

Jessica hugged every single person in that group as well as the next. The house was full and loud with laughter, stories, and the sound of kids running back and forth.

"SIT YA ASS DOWN," he heard an auntie growl at a kid only a little older than his play niece. The kid looked at her, sitting immediately.. reminding him of his childhood with his family. "Excuse me," the woman waved apologetically when she made eye contact, but it made Erik feel comfortable. He smiled.

When the family played charades, he sat quietly and hoped they wouldn't call him up and he was lucky because they were too busy competing for a turn, each person imitating a family member and getting roars of laughter followed by an "I am not like that" or an "AND?!" The reactions tickled Erik more than anything. He tried to watch each family member from then to see if the impressions were accurate and he laughed to himself on the ones he could personally confirm.

"Hey Erik," one of the men called from around the kitchen table. The seats were full all around with additional folding chairs pulled up. "Prettyboy like you know how to play spades?"

Erik's brows rose and he blew out a breath. "Old man.. you sure you in the mood to lose?" The man's face dropped and instantly Erik felt his foot in his mouth. He'd gone too far.

"..I think you got a challenge, Lem," the man beside him on his right smirked, coughing to hide his laugh. Lem cut the cards after the man to his left shuffled.

"I'll ask you the same question when you're digging this old foot out ya ass," Lem chuckled and another man stood to let Erik sit. Erik played four successful games before Jessica appeared over his shoulder whispering loudly in his ear. He controlled his shudder feeling the air on his face.

"Christmas scavenger hunt," she said pulling him from the chair. "My neighbor," she explained to the table, hugging him proudly. "Okay, let's go!"

The outdoor scavenger hunt happened in the backyard in the dark. Erik didn't understand why his wrist had to be tied to Jessica's. It wasn't like any scavenger hunt he'd done, not that he'd done one since he was eight and that was for Easter.

"Follow me," Jessica pulled as if he had a choice. She fell almost instantly. "Owww, I bongo'd my booty," she pouted seriously, rubbing her butt.

"..Now I gotta get outta here," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"I said did you see that reindeer."

"What reindeer?" She looked puzzled but forgot it fast.

She pawed through trees and got down on her knees in the snowy grass to feel around which was more than anyone else was doing. They were mostly talking and enjoying the view of the bright sky. It was a beautiful night. The more Jessica searched through the snow, Erik began to think of her hands. She wasn't wearing gloves. Her hands had to be freezing. He looked around at the guests standing around casually.

"Jessica.. I don't think you'll find anything under the snow let's look somewhere else."

"I'm like a bloodhound for this, I can smell it!" She continued to shift snow, digging on her knees shifting around the ground and Erik's mind went to Ms. Ernestine.

"Jessica.. stand up," he whispered through his teeth tugging her up with a quick yank of his wrist. "It's too cold for you to be digging through snow with your bare h-" There was a plastic ornament in her palm, a proud grin on her face.

"I knew it," she leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "Joshua planted it and he's not that creative," she whispered giddily. "He must have done it before the snow... WE FOUND IT! WE FOUND THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS! WE WIN! YES!! TAKE THAT LOOOOSERRS!!"

As the round of applause and some disappointed groans followed, Erik felt awkward standing with her as she gloated in her ridiculous victory dance but he couldn't negate that... she was right. Once untied, he stood next to her as she turned in the ornament to Ms. Ernestine exchanging it for two small red gift boxes. Handing Erik one, she beamed at him and the small crowd.

"Same time."

He nodded and at the same time they opened the boxes.

"Socks!!! Oh my God I love fuzzy socks," she spazzed bending backward to cheer at the sky. When Erik looked in his box, he looked up at the crowd and Ms. Ernestine. Was it really cool to accept this? Should he give it to Jessica? "What did you get," Jessica asked. He showed her. "Eh.. it's nice but I like mine better," she winked. It was a $100 bill. She could've had tons of socks. He sat down their boxes and felt her hands, they were still cold.

"Let's go inside and warm up," he nodded toward the house glad when Ms. Ernestine agreed, announcing that it was definitely time to eat. She said the prayer as people held hands and Erik couldn't remember the last time anyone around him had held hands to pray. "Let me get that for you. You want a lil everything?" He stepped in to fix an older lady's plate so she wouldn't lose her seat or wait in line. That led to him fixing three different plates for people but Jessica was right there with him, smiling the whole time. "Have a seat," he told her, doubling down when she politely declined. "You've done enough, enjoy your family."

Confused, she did what he suggested and he brought her food and drink to her in the living room before finding a nearby seat. She was just as quirky as ever, saying things that made no sense, but Erik was too into the food to care. He ate three plates and drank two eggnogs.

Right when he thought he'd go into a food coma, he heard his name.

"Erik," a gruff voice called from the dining room. It was her dad waving him over where most of the men were. "Hey, do me a favor and go upstairs to the room on the right and grab that jar from the top shelf of my closet.

Erik looked around briefly with slightly widened eyes for Joshua but didn't see him.

"You want me to..," he questioned.

"Yeah, son, go get it and bring it here. Thanks."

Son, Erik thought as he went up the stairs. The man barely knew him yet called him son. This family was something else and it wasn't something he was used to.

In the closet was a glass mason jar full of pocket change and dollars of varying values. There were 50s in there. The fact that he was trusted to retrieve it spoke volumes. He carried it down the stairs carefully fulfilling his mission to get it back to Mr. Donald who thanked him asking no questions.

"And the jar this Christmas... goes to.. drumroll," he commanded getting a loud drum of hands on laps, tables, and walls. "DREW!"

"YES," a teenage boy shouted hurriedly finding his way forward to pose beside Mr. Donald with the jar. His grin full of braces was as big as Jessica's in that moment and when Erik glanced at Jessica, she waved. He nodded back with a small smile. She was beginning to grow on him... just a little.

When the house erupted in carols, he didn't feel pressured to sing. He sat and listened, smiling at the little kids who sang the loudest with the drunk uncle leading in an offbeat baritone. It was a warm feeling he'd forgotten.

And then they exchanged gifts with some people opening there's on the spot and some people taking theirs to go along with several plates of food.

"Erik," Jessica smiled bouncing happily in front of him like she had the best news. She put a red and green gift box in his hands. The dog design was tacky, but he could look past that now. "Open it now," she rushed and when he did, he was taken aback.. again. "I made this on the off chance that you'd say yes and come home for the holidays with me."

His fingers rolled over his face pasted on top of a photoshopped body added to her family's group photo and it was the most bizarre and lowkey creepy gift he'd ever gotten.. but in that way, it was also perfect which hit different. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't stop looking at it.

"Ew... Don't get all soft on me now Stevens," she blurted rolling her eyes with genuine disgust. What kind of response did she expect? He laughed thinking about it.

"Come here," he grabbed her into a hug she fought to get out of.

"Ew ew ew, feelings!"

It only made him laugh and hold tighter.

---

The ride back to the apartment was more chill. Quiet except for the old music that Jessica sang along to, this time under her breath. When they reached the building, there was a relaxed peace as they went up in the elevator together.

"I owe you a Christmas present," Erik said at the door glancing over as Jessica opened the door to her apartment.

"You do, I gave you a good one."

He blew a small laugh through his nostrils. "Yes. Yes, you did. Have a good night, okay?"

"Sleep in heavenly peace," she smiled leaning her head on her door. He nodded and entered his apartment, picking up in the living room before getting ready for bed. There was another series of knocks on the door.

"What's up," he asked opening it to a squinting Jessica. She looked a little constipated or confused. "You good? What you need?"

"Uh. I know I promised, but do I still have to stay away from you until Memorial Day? I kinda had a lotta fun tonight. It looked like you did too."

Erik shook his head, too tired to laugh at the nonsense. One thing for sure, he'd never be bored.

"You can talk to me," he nodded dramatically before yawning. "We family ain't we?"

"Good because for New Year's we gotta go turn up at my granny's cat hotel! Eee!!" She clapped squealing in excitement. "You'll love her, she's just like me but she's just a little weird," she whispered.

Erik's brows knit together as he broke down that statement. That was something to think about when the time came, he was too tired.

"Good night, Jessica," he sang closing the door gently. She stopped it.

"One more thing!"

"Girl do you ever get tired!"

"Merry Christmas, brother from another mother," she grinned. He shook his head with a sigh.

"..See you on New Year's."

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @goddessofthundathighs @thadelightfulone @mszrenee @woahitslucyylu @badgalbrix1 @supersizemeplz @idont-know-shit @vikkidc @ladymac82 @xsweetdellzx @msreshel

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #christmas fic

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littlelovelyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Unmasked

Spider-Man is forced to fight the Sinister Six while he’s sick, which leads to his enemies making unexpected discoveries about their arch nemesis.

Chapter 3

Ow.

That was the first coherent thought that registered in Peter’s brain.

Pain. He was in pain. A lot of it.

It started with the sunlight shining directly in his eyes through the ceiling-high windows. Then there was the sharp ache in his left leg. Then a sting in his shoulder. A cramp in his stomach. A throb in his skull.

And then, everywhere.

Peter was hurting all over. And yet, it was dull, distant, hazy hurt, like he was a ghost floating above his body after it had been run over by a dump truck.

Ugh…

His eyes scrunched into angry lines before fluttering open. His vision was fuzzy, unfocused, and no amount of blinking seemed to fix it. His brain felt like it had been replaced by three tons of bricks.

What…where…

He was…inside someplace. It was bright—way too bright. The ceiling overhead was tall and white. He was lying on a couch that felt like it had never been sat on before.

Am I…dead…?

His muscles were stiff as stone. He feared for a moment he was paralyzed, until he felt his fingers twitch, followed by his toes. It hurt—a lot—but hurt was better than numbness.

Okay. Not paralyzed. Hopefully not dead.

“Mmmgh,” he moaned. Slowly, he slid his hands back and pushed off the couch, lifting himself into a sitting position. “Oh, god…”

His skin was hot and sticky. Every bone, organ, and cell ached. He still felt sick, but now with about seventy extra ailments piled on top of that, which meant he was probably still alive.

Probably.

But how?

The last he remembered, he was getting his ass handed to him by the Sinister Six. For as long as he’d operated as the masked vigilante Spider-Man, he’d never gotten thrashed that badly. How did he get away? Did someone rescue him? Had the Avengers swooped in and saved his dumb, in-over-his-head ass right after he’d blacked out? But how could they have gotten there in time?

And where the hell was he?

Now that he was no longer lying down, the room had started listing a little. Peter reached up to rub his temple and felt something crinkly stuck to his head. He grabbed hold of it and started peeling it off his skin, wincing from the pain. Once he’d torn it free, Peter held the unknown object in front of his eyes. It was a large, bloody bandage.

Huh.

Peter’s eyes dropped to his lap. A thin blanket was draped over his body. When he lifted it away, he cringed.

His torso was a gruesome patchwork of Frankenstein-style stitches and bandages. He counted three sets of sutures on his upper body alone, plus four other cuts and scrapes held together with butterfly tape. His entire chest looked like one gigantic bruise. Plus, the burns—some from scraping across coarse concrete, others from actual fire. Every small movement sent waves of pain rippling across his body.

Yeesh, he thought, poking gingerly at the bandages on his shoulder. Well, someone friendly had to patch me up. But who?

Peter let the blanket slip from his fingers. Grimacing, he swung his legs off the couch and carefully placed his feet on the floor. Sweat slipped off his brow and dripped onto his knee.

“Okay,” he breathed. Peter inhaled sharply, then threw his weight forward, standing upright for an instant. Then he collapsed, gasping. Dizzying agony blossomed in his left leg and thumped like a second heartbeat.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth. He glanced back and saw his shin had been fashioned with a makeshift splint: two metal rods and ass-load of packing tape.

Right. Broken leg. The sound of the bone cracking in half reignited in his memories, sending a shudder down his spine.

Peter used the sofa to pull himself off the ground. This time, he placed all his weight on his right foot, using his left only for balance. His body ached and trembled with the effort it took to stand, but he managed to stay on his feet.

Ouch. Ugh. Okay. Yeah. That’s a start. The fuzz in his vision was starting to dissipate, but the fog in his brain clung like fungus. It felt like he’d been inhaling a bunch of that laughing gas stuff his dentist had given him back in the 6th grade when he had to get a tooth pulled. His head was heavy and light at the same time.

The room was a lounge area with stiff furniture and minimal decor. A wilted fern sat in the corner alongside a weird, tall block with a piece of metal sticking out of the top that Peter assumed was some form of modern art. The walls were entirely bare except for a small landscape painting that looked like it belonged in a motel bathroom. There were two other chairs across from the couch, a coffee table, a gray rug, and that was basically it.

Beside the fern, a pair of double doors stood wide and closed. When Peter strained his sensitive ears, muffled voices could be heard conversing in the other room. Curiosity plucked at his chest.

“Um…hello?” he called, voice raspy. He approached the doors, hopping more than walking, gritting his teeth as his injuries burned and throbbed, heat radiating feverishly off his skin. By the time he transversed the room, he was out of breath, lightheaded. He leaned against the wall for a minute and cycled slow gulps of oxygen through his lungs.

Once he’d somewhat recovered, Peter limped in front of the large doors. The voices were louder now, but not loud enough to be recognizable. They sounded mostly male. Peter took a deep breath, reached out his arm, and cracked the door open just a hair to peek inside.

It was a kitchen—that was the first thing he saw. A man stood at the island with his back to the doors. Across from him was a round dining table with a bowl of fruit in the middle.

“How is he?” the man asked, biting into an apple. His voice was definitely familiar.

“Still hasn’t woken up, right?” another responded.

Maybe this is another one of Clint’s safe houses, Peter thought. Or an Avengers’ base I’ve never been to before. Or a secret sitting room in some tragically decorated S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Or—

Seconds before Peter opened his mouth to say hello again, the man eating the apple turned around. When Peter saw his face, his heart jumped out of his chest and splattered at his feet.

“I don’t know,” Herman Shultz said over a mouthful of fruit. “Has he?”

The oxygen around Peter vanished in an instant. It’s Shocker! The guy who broke my leg! W-what the hell? What is he doing here?

“Not from what I’ve heard,” the second voice continued. Another man entered his narrow line of vision, this one lit up like a neon sign, and Peter’s throat seized.

“You’re not being very helpful, Maxwell.”

“I told you not to call me that! I’m Electro!”

Shocker held up his hands. “Right, right, sorry. Electro, then. You’re not being helpful.”

What the shit, what the shit, what the actual, living shi—

“Don’t ask me about these things. Ask the doc.” He lifted his head and grinned. “Look—here he comes now.”

Clank, clank, clank. Heavy, metallic footsteps rang in Peter’s ears and shook the floor beneath him. Horror and disbelief flooded his veins as the eight-limbed scientist stepped in front of him, hardly three feet away, pushing a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Ask me about what?” Doctor Octopus said.

Peter leapt back from the door, clamping both hands over his mouth.

Oh…my god. It’s them.

“I just wanted to know how he was doing.”

They’re here. They found me. They came to finish the job.

Half of the super villains that had just wrecked his shit were standing in the neighboring room. Hell, maybe all of them were. They’d probably taken whoever had helped him hostage, or perhaps the poor soul was already dead. He wouldn’t stand a chance like this. He didn’t have his suit, his webs, nothing. He’d tried his best to fight them when he was just sick with the stomach bug, and look how well that had turned out for him. If they attacked him now, one solid hit was all it would take to knock him out. Or, if he was being fully honest, kill him.

Peter’s eyes darted frantically around the room. I have to get out of here! He hobbled toward the wall of windows and placed his hands against the glass. It was at least four inches thick; probably bulletproof. But it was his only option. With a shivery grunt, Peter hoisted himself off the floor and crawled toward the ceiling, every step piercing him with flashes of pain.

Okay. Launch off the ceiling, kick through the glass, make a run for it. In his loopy, concussed mind, the plan sounded foolproof. The voices of his enemies were growing louder; Doc Oc’s footsteps were approaching rapidly. It was now or never.

Hanging off the upside-down surface, balancing on his good foot, heart racing, head dizzy and faint, Peter threw himself at the window. He hit the glass with a loud thunk, bouncing off like a bug on a windshield, then crashed on top of the weird modern art piece, shattering the mahogany box into wood chips.

Peter lay sprawled in a heap in the wake of his failure, groaning and dazed. As he forced himself upright, gripping his head in his hand, the doors behind him burst open.

“What the hell?” Doc Oc exclaimed, alarm caked across his expression. When his gaze landed on the young superhero floundering in the splintered remains of his college art project, stunned and disheveled but now awake and wide-eyed, his muscles relaxed slightly. “Spider-Man?”

“Holy shit, he’s awake,” Electro said.

“And he destroyed your favorite sculpture,” Shocker added.

Peter’s eyes dashed between the three men, wild and afraid. He’d been unmasked by his absolute worst enemies—but that seemed the least of his troubles. I’m toast, he thought. Tiny pieces of wood clung to his hair, face, and back. Seeing him conscious for the first time sent a spark of relief through Doc Oc, though he hadn’t expected him to wake up for at least another day; the combination of pain meds he’d given him was pretty strong. When Octavius moved an inch closer to him, Peter scrambled to his feet and backed away, tripping over himself in the process and heavily favoring his right leg.

“Spider-Man—” he began, trying to keep his voice level. Spider-Man picked up a chunk of the destroyed box and chucked it at him.

“S-stay back!” he shouted. His voice was shrill and cracked at the end of the demand. Damn, Otto thought. The evidence of Spider-Man’s youthfulness was clear as day to him now—how had none of them noticed it before? Perhaps they had simply chosen not to notice.

Doc Oc dodged the projectile with ease. “Spider-Man, listen to me—”

Peter made a break for it, gunning for the opposite side of the room. He’d hardly made it two uncoordinated strides before three more figures emerged from a door behind the couch, blocking his escape path: Scorpion, Sandman, and Rhino. He skidded to a stop with a gasp.

“Whoa,” Rhino exclaimed, towering over the half-naked hero. “Would you look at that. Tiny spider is alive.”

Shit! Peter screamed internally. He whipped his gaze in every direction and realized he was surrounded.

“He needs to stop moving,” Otto said, knowing there was no way to accomplish that with words. He raised his tentacles above his head, the pincers snapping hungrily. “Grab him.”

Rhino made the first move, reaching out with his meaty hands to snag the kid by the arm. But Spider-Man ducked and rolled out of the way, moving surprisingly fast despite all of his injuries, though it was obvious the exertion was hurting him. Scorpion and Sandman tried next, lunging for his legs, but Peter hopped right over them and flipped backwards, wincing and staggering once his feet hit the floor and banging into the window.

“You’re going to reopen your wounds,” Octavius warned him. He thrust two tentacles at his torso, but Spider-Man flinched out of their grasp. Otto launched the other two arms at him, and Peter skirted between them, springing on to the wall. The exhaustion and terror in his face were evident. Otto felt bad for scaring him so much, but this was for his own good.

“Spider-Man—please,” he groused. His mechanical arms grabbed and snapped at the air, barely missing the slippery little hero every time. “Just—stay—still!”

Peter wasn’t listening to a word he said. All he knew was that he couldn’t let himself be caught. Every inch of him was screaming in agony. When the tentacles pounced on him all at once, Spider-Man shrunk small and dove underneath them, somersaulting past Doc Oc’s legs and popping up behind him. Peter bolted blindly for the double doors, only to ram straight into Rhino’s giant leg and fall flat on his ass. Three metal prongs clamped around his midsection before he could regather himself, pinning him to the floor.

“Agh!” Peter yelped, tugging uselessly at the claw’s strong teeth. “Let me go!”

Otto lifted Spider-Man off the ground. He continued to strain and squirm, kicking his legs and grappling with the mechanical pincers gripping his waist. The rest of the Sinister Six gathered around the frightened hero, forming a circle with him in the middle. He looked so small against the looming backdrop of super villains. His young face beamed with all the emotions his mask typically concealed—most prominently, fear.

“Spider-Man,” Octavius repeated, holding his hands out tentatively. “Calm down.”

“I’ll pass, thanks!” Peter quipped, betrayed by the tremble in his voice.

“Okay, it’s definitely him,” Electro groaned amusedly.

“I know you’re scared,” Doc Oc continued. “And you have every right to be. But if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to injure yourself further.”

“And if I don’t keep moving, you’re going to injure me further!” He thrashed and twisted valiantly, but it was evident he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. His movements were slowing down, his attempts to escape growing more and more pathetic. Otto waited for him to burn himself out, crossing his arms against his chest. It didn’t take long.

“Are you quite done now?”

Peter hung his head, breathless and shivery, gripping the prongs around his torso less to try to escape and more to hold himself upright. Perhaps his impromptu acrobatics display hadn’t been his smartest idea. All that leaping and flipping and bouncing around had sapped the last whispers of energy from his bones.

“Ugh…room’s…s-spinning,” he murmured. Otto took that as a “yes.” He held Spider-Man closer and frowned at a red spot on his ribs.

“And now look what you’ve done, you idiot. You’ve torn your stitches. I tried to warn you. Half an hour’s worth of sewing, down the drain because of your recklessness.”

“What are you…what…what’s…?” Spider-Man slurred. He was suddenly seeing double of everything. He dropped his gaze to his midriff and watched two blurry lines of blood slip down his side.

“I sutured you up, and you ruined it,” Octavius explained. Peter slowly lifted his head and wrinkled his brow.

“You…” he said, blinking repeatedly. “What?”

“Told you we gave him brain damage,” Rhino whispered. Peter looked at him over his shoulder, then swept his gaze around the circle, making eye contact with every member of the Sinister Six. They saw him. After all this time, his face was finally exposed to his enemies. No disguise, no secret identity, no mask. He felt so naked without it. Not having a shirt or pants on didn’t help either. Strangely, their expressions lacked their typical thirst for spider blood. It dawned on him that over a minute had passed, and none of them had tried to kill him. And so far, they still weren’t trying.

“I’m…confusion,” he stammered. “What—what’s happening right now?”

It was somewhat amusing to see Spider-Man so delirious and out of his element. Doctor Octopus lowered him to the ground but didn’t let go of his torso. Peter was almost glad he didn’t; he doubted he could stand on his own right now.

“I tended to your wounds while you were unconscious,” Octavius said. “It’s not a perfect patch job, but I did the best I could.”

Peter shook his head slowly, his big, brown Bambi eyes wide and puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“I also gave you some pain killers, which might be making your head a bit fuzzy.”

“But…why?” he scoffed. “You did this to me. You’re the ones who…beat me up. You love beating me up. You—you hate me. You want me dead. You’ve tried to make me dead a million times.” Peter jolted suddenly, a cramp shooting through his broken leg. If he was on painkillers, they were doing a pretty piss-poor job. Everything hurt and was too confusing to comprehend. He closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands, moaning. “Oh god…I’ve gotta be trapped in some crazy fever dream right now. Or maybe…I’m dead. Am I dead? None of this makes any sense…”

“You’re not dead, Peter,” Otto said, stifling a chuckle.

A shudder rippled through the teenager. He lowered his hands, revealing the colorless face behind them.

“How…how do you know my…?”

Shit, Doc Oc thought. It was a careless slip of the tongue. He had meant to keep his knowledge of Spider-Man’s alter ego a secret so as to not frighten him further, but it looked like the cat was out of the bag.

Peter’s gaze shifted anxiously between the six super villains again. Fresh fear clouded over his glassy eyes, and he went back to squirming against Octavius’ hold.

“Now what are you trying to do?” Otto asked, exasperated.

“G-get the hell out of here,” Peter answered. He yanked at the claw around his torso, grunting with effort. “I know what this is. This is—one of those—hrgg—P-Princess Bride situations, isn’t it?”

The team of villains exchanged bemused glances with each other. “What are you talking about?”

“You know—mmneh—when the bad guys—c-catch Wesley, then heal him—just so the life-sucky torture machine thing is—m-more torturous? That’s what this is, right?” His face was flushing red, and more of his sutures were starting to leach blood.

Scorpion threw up his hands. “What’s the brat trying to say?”

“I think he’s saying we only doctored his wounds so that when we kill him, it’ll be all the more slow and painful,” Electro clarified with a shrug. “Which honestly sounds pretty in character for most of us.”

“See? This guy gets it.” Peter pushed at the prongs with all his might. Even as a half-dead, half-conscious mess, the kid couldn’t stop himself from being a smartass.

“I’m just impressed he made a reference to a movie that came out before he was a concept,” Rhino said. “You know, instead of, like, Finding Nemo?”

Otto could see the strain Spider-Man was putting himself through in his pitiful attempts to escape, so he decided to see what would happen if he succeeded. When Spider-Man shoved at his metal pincers again, he let them snap open. Surprise flashed across Peter’s face as he dropped to the ground and wobbled on his feet, followed by weary triumph.

“Ha! See? T-told you I would…I could…”

He faltered and swayed, staggering backwards. Sandman enlarged his hand and caught him before he could hit the floor. Peter sat limply in his palm, breathing heavy, frail and febrile and injured and exhausted. He looked down at the sand-hand that had stopped him from falling, then back up at the surrounding circle of villains, fear and confusion stinging in the corners of his eyes.

“W-why aren’t you...trying to kill me?”

The room dipped into nervous silence. Spider-Man’s gaze continued to jump between them, searching for answers.

“Why did you treat the wounds you gave me?” he continued weakly. With every word that passed his lips, the shake in his voice increased. “W-what do you want from me? Are you trying to…turn me to the dark side or something?”

Shocker stroked his chin. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea…”

“No,” Sandman answered pointedly, shooting Shocker a sideways glare.

“Then what?” Peter snapped. “What’s going on? Why am I here? Why aren’t I dead yet?” Spider-Man dragged himself back to his feet, grimacing harshly. “T-tell me what you’re planning to do with me, or I’ll—I’ll…”

His scowl dropped suddenly, replaced by a look of panic. His eyes went wide and his jaw clenched.

“Or you’ll what?” Scorpion asked in a mocking tone.

When Peter didn’t answer him, Octavius took a step closer. “Spider-Man? What’s wrong?”

Gradually, the terror in his face gave way to dread. Peter sucked in a gasp and cupped his hand over his mouth.

“I think…I’m gonna puke.”

Otto blinked. “Oh,” he said. That was not the response he was expecting, but it didn’t look like the kid was joking. He lurched forward, stifling a gag, making everyone exclaim and leap back. His pale face hinted a sickly shade of green.

“Oh,” Octavius repeated, animated by a new sense of urgency. He glanced around frantically until he spotted the fern in the corner of the room. He seized it with one of his tentacles, dumped the plant and the soil onto the floor, then slid the empty pot in front of Spider-Man. “Uh, here.”

Peter moaned in defeat before doubling over the pot and retching violently. The Sinister Six turned away in disgust, fighting to keep their own lunches down. There was hardly anything inside him to upchuck in the first place, but his body continued to dry heave for another half-minute. Once the bout passed, Peter was left wheezing and trembling with his head held low. His throat burned and tears were slipping from his eyes faster than he could wipe them away.

“Forgot about the stomach flu,” Electro said, sticking out his tongue. “Blech.”

Peter wanted to ask how the hell they knew he had a stomach bug, among many other things, but he was too fatigued to form words.

Octavius turned back to him squeamishly. The poor kid looked so small, hurt, and sick. It amazed him how quickly his hate for Spider-Man had transformed into a tentative fondness. He felt the need to comfort him somehow, the way adults were supposed to comfort young ones when they weren’t feeling well. But he had no idea how.

Instead, he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a cup of water from the kitchen and placed them both by his side. “Here,” he said awkwardly.

Peter eyed the items and whimpered softly. With miserable, lethargic movements, Peter washed out his mouth and wiped his face, every breath aching in his chest. Shame and fever radiated off him in waves. When he was finished, he just sat there, panting and shivery. Too weak to move.

“I think you ought to lay back down, Spidey,” Sandman said, plucking the hero off the floor between two massive fingers. He returned him to the couch with delicate care, guiding his head to the pillow and draping the blanket over his body.

“No…” Peter mumbled languidly, trying to sit up. When he closed his eyes, he couldn’t get them to open again. “Just…tell me…why…”

Something cold and wet pressed against his forehead, gently pushing him back down. Octavius had grabbed a hand towel from the kitchen and soaked it in ice water. The cool touch against his skin was soothing and unexpectedly soporific. Slowly, his muscles went lax. His tumultuous thoughts faded into sleepy nothingness.

“We will,” Otto lied. “But for now, rest.”

It was almost endearing how quickly Spider-Man drifted back to sleep. Octavius left the towel on his forehead and watched as his breathing eased to a steady rhythm.

“Damn,” Shocker sighed. “Poor kid.”

“We really beat him senseless,” Rhino said.

Electro stood over the slumbering hero with his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side. “Is it just me, or is Spider-Man, like…kind of adorable?”

Scorpion snorted. “Adorable?”

“You know! In that, like, puppy-dog, dumb little kid kind of way. I mean, look at him! Does no one else think so?”

Sandman shrugged, fighting back a smile. “I mean, maybe. Sorta.” His expression gradually hardened, and he looked at Doc Oc. “So…is what you said before true? Is he really, like, an orphan?”

Otto lowered his gaze. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was a toddler, and he was adopted by his aunt and uncle, who became like parents to him. But then his uncle was killed last year, so now it’s just him and his aunt. He hasn’t had a particularly easy life.”

“And we certainly haven’t helped on that front,” Rhino added.

“It’s insane to me that at his age, this is what he chose to do with his powers. If I’d gotten his abilities when I was fifteen and gone through all that loss, I’d have been robbing every store on 5th Avenue.”

Shocker smirked. “I hate to say it, but...he’s kind of a good kid. Even if he is an obnoxious little dumbass.”

Amidst the conversation, Octavius’ face remained stoic, unreadable. He waited a while before clearing his throat. “I…wanted to let you all know. I, um, spoke to Tombstone this morning.”

All eyes turned to him, alarmed.

“He saw footage of us capturing Spider-Man on the news,” he explained. “He’s offering us two million each in exchange for the kid.”

Rhino’s jaw dropped. “Two million dollars? For each of us?”

“Holy shit,” Sandman breathed.

“What the hell?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“And he just wants the kid?” Shocker exclaimed. "That’s it?”

Otto nodded slowly. “Alive, but yes. That’s all he wants.” He swallowed and looked at the floor. “He’s given us until the end of the week to accept his offer.”

Excitement and dismay swept across everyone’s expressions. Each person waited for someone to speak up, for someone else to say no, we can’t. But it was just too tempting a proposition to dismiss out of hand. They could finally be free to do what they wanted. Free to live as they pleased, villainous or otherwise. Free to punish this city the way it had punished them, if they so choose. Turning over the kid was all it would take. One quick transaction. Hand over their nemesis, their sworn enemy, and it was done. They’d be rich.

“What the hell does he plan to do with him?” Sandman whispered uneasily.

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Doc Oc clarified. “I just wanted to make you aware of the opportunity. We can discuss it more later.”

An air of tentative relief settled over the room. Electro puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms against his chest.

“In that case, what are we going to tell him when he wakes up again? That we want to sell him to some psychopath so we can all be millionaires? That we think he’s cute and want to keep him as a pet?”

Doctor Octopus shook his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said. He turned back to his team. “I’ll keep monitoring him and re-treat the wounds he opened. I think it’s best we always have a pair of eyes on him to prevent another incident involving the destruction of my art pieces.”

The rest of the Sinister Six agreed, scattering throughout the complex, the proposition weighing heavily on all of their minds. Otto put on some classical music and began mopping the fresh blood off Peter’s torso.

#spiderman #spider-man #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #Spider-Man: Homecoming #spider-man: far from home #sick fic #marvel #mcu #peter parker #spiderman ffh

96 notes · View notes

springday-aus · 3 years

Text

Enemies to Lovers!AU with Xiaojun

—

Group: NCT [+ WayV]

Member: Xiaojun / Xiao Dejun

Genre: fluff, comedy, romance

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 2.4k

so, you’re Xiaojun’s enemy (he thinks of it more of his number one attacker tho)

it wasn’t hard considering he’s always on fight or flight mode and considering his friend group….

fight mode is always activated

(ง’̀-‘́)ง

so it started when you became friends with Ten

the guy is so sociable, so you were bound to meet him and his other friends someday

but jesus christ, there were soooo many of them

it was a party; he threw a literal party of just him and his friends

and then there were others who turned it into a rave (i.e. Hendery, Yangyang, Chenle and Donghyuk)

anyways, you got to mingle and make so many new friends

it was going really well

until Xiaojun entered the picture

things went well with him too, until you made a joke that didn’t exactly land with him

but it landed well with the others

Lucas: “who in their right mind would like mint chocolate”

Xiaojun: “but I like mint chocolate”

You: “then you’re not in your right mind lmao”

YangYang: “I mean, is Xiaojun ever in his right mind tho”

everyone laughs

except for one person

Xiaojun stood up, staring you down for a hot second, before trying to argue back

in which YangYang was the main responder

you didn’t really think much of it, laughing away with the others

but, to him, you just declared war that day

it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did

but it did

so, from then on, things just got rockier

bc he started picking fights with you over the littlest things or he would argue with your points no matter what

you didn’t really think much of it bc he was also being picked on everyone else and you were like

every man for themselves huh

it wasn’t until he personally attacked you

it happened on Halloween

and he made an underhanded comment about how he’d look better in anything compared to you

so you made a “friendly” bet

but then you lost

bc Xiaojun looked better in the Jasmine costume than you and he def knew it too

and when he smirked at you

the grudge had been built

that’s probably when the mutual enemy status circulated around your friends

although, if they’re being honest, it’s so entertaining

especially since most of them like to gang up on Xiaojun too

and because of that unity, it’s only made things worse

from what the others can tell

you two don’t hate each other, but you def don’t get along

it ranges to food (e.g. mint chocolate chip incident that NO ONE lets go)

Lucas: “mint choco ain’t shit”

You: “retweet”

Xiaojun: “the attacks”

YangYang: “we cannot trust a man who eats bread with fucking lao gan ma”

You: “you eat what with bread?”

Xiaojun: “shut up. all of you.”

to activities

cue you two fighting about what movie to watch

Xiaojun: “Titanic is a classic!!!”

You: “it’s a joke, there was rOOM ON THE FUCKING DOOR”

Xiaojun: “IT’S ROMANTIC. HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF SO SHE CAN LIVE.”

You: “THAT’S NOT ROMANTIC. THAT’S SUICIDAL, DUMBASS.”

this feud is def bc you’re both petty as fuck

the bickering is nonstop

but, if the nct boys are being honest

they’re lowkey confused bc Xiaojun is supposed to have a really high emotional tolerance

he doesn’t even yell this much at YangYang or Ten

(excluding that one time he hit YangYang with that pillow very hard)

but he does blow off his top when it comes to you

which is sus to a lot of the boys

whenever someone does ask him tho

he just kind of……………

mumbles underneath his breath and then moves onto something else

meanwhile, Yuta: “isn’t he always like that?”

Kun: “who wants to tell him”

lmao, I’m kidding

kind of

anyways, you two are really just going at it

what changes?

you have to go to the dentist and get your molars removed

which means someone has to take you and go pick you up

obviously, Ten was going to do that, considering you two were the closest

so he dropped you off and you had your surgery

so what happened?

welp, your buddy Ten forgot he had a prior engagement and, hence, was unable to pick you up

cue him spamming the groupchat

and Lucas exposing Xiaojun

Lucas: Xiaojun isn’t doing anything Xiaojun: you don’t know that Lucas: I do tho, go pick up (Y/N) Ten: I’ll buy you anything from that green tea cafe you like for a week Xiaojun: deal.

so he came to pick you up, both willingly and unwillingly

and you……. you were more than a hot mess

you were just a mess

you basically were just blacked out that entire time after they gave you the laughing gas and completed the surgery

so you remembered absolutely nothing.

your roommate: “this is what you get for doing drugs”

You: “IT WAS PURELY FOR MEDICINAL USE”

You: “IT’S NOT LIKE I DID CRACK”

either way, your roommate let you know of the situation, taking note of how your enemy had to take you home

which

again

no recollection

your roommate: “he’s fucking hot tho”

You: “ugh, I know”

but that’s also when you decided

Ten is a dead man :)

Ten: “I’M SORRY”

You: “YOU BETTER FUCKING BE”

Ten: “I KNOW”

Ten: “............................................but………………………………….”

Ten: “maybeyoushouldalsothankhimfortakingcareofyou”

You: “sorry not sorry, I’m contemplating murder rn”

Hendery: “what do you call a murder against a friend?”

Kun: “don’t”

Ten:

You:

Hendery: “it’s a homie-cide”

You and Ten: “NOT NOW”

anyways

you knew he was right

so after you calmed down, you went to Xiaojun’s place (thanks to Ten), with some sweets to thank him

Lucas opened the door, let you in, and left to go to the gym with Sicheng

Xiaojun came out of his room, a couple of minutes after, disheveled from his nap

and when he saw you in his living room couch, his eyes widened, darting around to avoid looking at you

You: “hi”

Xiaojun: “hello”

You: “why do you look so scared? I’m not gonna jump you”

he stays quiet, the blush becoming more apparent on his cheeks

You: “Ten told me you took me home after my surgery, so…………………… thanks”

Xiaojun: “he bribed me with pastries”

You: yeah, sounds about right

You: “still”

You: “um, I didn’t know what you would like, so I brought some sweets you can just go through”

Xiaojun: “thanks”

it’s silent for another moment and you consider bolting out from the apartment, Wizards of Waverly Place, Harper-style: “see ya in p.e.!” kind of a thing

but he speaks up once more

Xiaojun: “are you feeling okay now?”

You: “uh, yeah, my jaw still kind of hurts”

You: “but I have meds they prescribed to me for the next month or so”

he decides to stop beating the bush:

Xiaojun: “so do you remember what happened yesterday?”

You: “to be completely honest, no”

Xiaojun: “you… did a lot of things”

You: “what do you mean I did a lot of things”

Xiaojun: “you also said a lot of things too”

You: “..... are these things recorded?”

Xiaojun: “maybe”

Xiaojun: “some”

You: “dELETET HEM”

you actually considered tackling him, but deemed as too Yang-Yang-like

You: “what did I say”

Xiaojun: “I didn’t realize you thought I was handsome”

You: “wait what?”

Xiaojun: “you said, you had a crush on my ‘fine ass’”

You: “you know what? I think I’m gonna pull a Jack and commit suicide, goodbye”

Xiaojun: “ah, ah, ah, you said like, which is… present tense”

You: “semantics”

Xiaojun: “but did you like me at some point?”

You: “does it matter?”

Xiaojun: “yeah, it kind of does”

Xiaojun: “bc even tho we bicker, it’s, like, our thing”

Xiaojun: “plus, you’re kind of cute when you’re threatening to rip off my eyebrows”

You: “I did what?”

Xiaojun: “it’s no different from how you treat me now”

You: “I thought it’s because you don’t like me”

he just kind of shrugs, rubbing his neck rather sheepishly

Xiaojun: “you’ve seen my friends; arguing is our way of showing our affections”

You: “so, you’re saying this is your way of telling me you like me?”

Xiaojun: “I mean………“

Xiaojun: “are you saying you like me?”

You: “are you saying you like me?”

*cue another argument about who likes who*

eventually, he found a way to shut you up

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

cut to Lucas and Sicheng coming back from the gym to you and Xiaojun making out on the couch

Lucas: “NASTY”

Sicheng: “what did we…. miss?”

Ten somewhere: I fucking called it.

anyways

you both decided to date that day

and you two still bicker an insane amount, which includes you nitpicking Xiaojun’s tastes to Xiaojun refusing to delete those videos of you under the laughing gas despite your threats

but, the only difference is, your arguments can end with a kiss

and it always freaks out the guys whenever you do

Donghyuk: “I’m too young to be seeing this monstrosity”

Mark: “ngl, this is nice for them—they’ve stopped arguing”

YangYang: “I weirdly prefer them arguing over them with those sappy eyes tho”

You: “we can hear you”

Chenle: “but when have we ever cared?”

You: “I’m gonna beat your ‘01 liner ass istg—”

Xiaojun: “calm”

oh, you know what’s fun about your relationship?

you two can’t agree on some stuff right?

so whenever you have to decide something, say a movie or dinner, you two just heads-or-tails it

(there’s also this cute app where you put your options on a wheel and let that decide—the amount of times you’ve used that on your dates…… anyways)

most of the time, on these dates, you seem more like an old married couple and it’s super cute

it’s bc you’re already used to your worse sides coming out—the really petty ones, the screaming ones, the ugly ones

ofc these aren’t from serious arguments that occur

(remember folks, it isn’t healthy for you and your partner to always be fighting)

but when serious arguments do occur, you both take time to sit down and talk face-to-face

it’s hard to get into actual arguments with him, especially since he really is understanding and tries to pay attention to the smaller details

Xiaojun: “I like learning more about you”

You: “you can’t just say that kind of shit to me”

like, yeah, he’ll debate with you all night about why he needs to read the words of his book out loud but, by the end of the day, you’ll lay your head in his lap and listen to his voice as you fall asleep

speaking of which, you love listening to him sing to you

he gets a bit embarrassed sometimes about it, but seeing you smile so brightly at him makes him forget about it

because even tho you two bicker about little things, in the end, it just makes you two laugh at one another and how ridiculous you’re being

I almost forgot, so Ten thinks of him pairing you two off right?

so, whenever he does something annoying to either of you, he’ll constantly bring it up

Ten: “I guess this is how you two treat me, your personal cupid—”

Xiaojun: “yes, yes, we are grateful for you”

You: “but it would be nice if you would stop making those annoying sounds”

Ten: “what annoying sounds?”

YangYang: “that’s just you talking”

okay, no, but yeah—the nct boys are glad this rivalry is over because it was really just…. stupid to the core

but also bc you two look super sweet together and seeing you two making each other happy rather than annoyed is adorable

but just bc you two got together doesn’t mean the pettiness isn’t still there

You: “what type of freak sleeps with their eyes opened?”

Xiaojun: “I’m sleeping next to you, of course I need to keep both eyes open”

You: “RUDE”

Xiaojun: “and yet here we are”

You: “son of a bitch”

Xiaojun: “YOUR son of a bitch”

You: “eh, I’ll take it”

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drax-is-inthefandom · 3 years

Text

Divergence of Faith

Chapter 1: The Basement

By the time the clock struck 6 in the morning, the last light in the Lake house was finally turned off. Barbara Lake, a current medical student and recently divorced mother, had finally finished her theoretical career jobs, after a full day of housework and schoolwork, she could get a modest three hours sleep before having to wake up to make breakfast for the day .

Funny that Saturday morning, she would not sleep just a couple of hours as she was used to, but rather that a little one with disheveled hair and bright blue eyes had been in charge of sabotaging her alarm to make sure she slept as much as necessary. By the time the sky was turning to warm orange hues, Jim Lake Jr was already awake and active, ready to take on as much housework as a 6-year-old could do - all because Mommy could finally take a break!

Breakfast was the main thing, because a growing child just like his mother, a future doctor, had to eat well. From under his pillow he pulled out the magazine page he had ripped from his last visit to the dentist and as fast and quiet as he could go downstairs, he ran to the kitchen to collect all the ingredients that were in the magazine recipe.

It was an omelet, something he could easily do without causing a fire, lately he was helping his mom in the kitchen and taking on more and more chores in food preparation, so he was confident that there would be no problem at all with him taking care of breakfast for the day by himself.

Confident and with a smile on his lips, Jim turned on the coffee pot so that when his mother woke up he could receive her with a cup of hot coffee along with the omelet. He could already imagine his mom rested, eating without falling asleep at the table and without having to worry about having to clean or do any other chores. He could even take care of lunch if necessary! Today he just wanted her not to worry about a thing.

He was in the middle of whisking the eggs when he heard something that brought him out of his fantasies. A strange noise.

He leaned out to the stairs, his ears sharpening to make sure his mom hadn't got up. Nothing, absolute silence.

There was nothing in the living room either.

"It's nothing" He said to convince himself, it was still early and maybe his head was playing a trick on him for getting up early. Obviously the darkness that was still in the house and that did not allow him to see anything through the windows was not causing him any paranoia to be hearing noises, clearly not.

But then he heard the noise again, this time louder and accompanied by what sounded like falling boxes.

Now he was sure where the noise was coming from. The basement.

His first impulse upon hearing such noise from the place of his house that he was most afraid of was running towards the stairs to look for Mom, to seek her protection in her arms and between her sheets. But hearing her light snores through her door, just as he was about to turn the knob to enter, made him stop.

He was supposed to be doing this to get her to rest, it was supposed to be a surprise, if he ran with her because he was scared of a noise, his whole plan would be ruined. He released the knob and went back downstairs.

Again he heard noises coming from the basement.

He gulped.

“I am a big boy. I protect mom now. ” With shaky legs, Jim returned to the kitchen to take what he considered a good weapon against whatever was in the basement: the largest metal spoon in the drawer.

Armed with his spoon and accumulating as much courage as he could on his little chest, the boy slowly approached the door that led to the basement to turn the door handle with trembling hands, fearful that his movements would alert any monster behind it and get himself attacked the moment he opened it. He raised the spoon in front of him when the door was finally open, shrinking and closing his eyes to avoid seeing his enemy in the face, as if the metal utensil was enough to scare him.

A few seconds passed and nothing seemed to eat him, so he opened his eyes.

He only found the darkness of the steps. He breathed again, not realizing that he had stopped doing it, he sat on the first step with the spoon firmly against his chest, waiting again for something to happen.

Again, nothing.

"You can do this, Jim." He took a deep breath, inflating his chest with it in a gesture of pure determination, and began to descend slowly, one step at a time and without removing the spoon away from himself. He kept his eyes open, waiting for them to adapt to the darkness in order to find any sign of what that noise had been, his ears until now only caught the light grinding of the wood under its weight as he advanced.

He was already halfway up the stairs when he finally saw something. What he saw almost made him throw the spoon out of fear, but again, as if it were a sword worthy of a knight, he raised it in front of him, threatening whatever was staring back at him.

"W-Who's there?"

He could swear it, yellow eyes were staring at him as intently as he was staring at whoever was the owner of those eyes. But he was sure it wasn't remotely as scared as he was. The growl that answered his question could assure it to him.

"W-Whoever you are, I-I'm not afraid of you!"

It was a raccoon, it must be a raccoon, whenever a strange noise was accompanied by bright and threatening eyes that stared at him from the forest, his mother always showed him that it was just a raccoon. This could not be different.

"I'm not afraid of you either"

Only that raccoons didn't speak.

He wanted to scream but the words were drowned in his throat, it had closed as a maximum security vault, with all the fear he was feeling his head only managed to tell his body to do one thing. He threw the spoon directly at the owner of those yellow eyes.

"What is this?" But his strength as a 6-year-old boy was not enough to cross the entire basement space to where the invader seemed to be, the utensil was halfway, in a neutral point of both where the light of the corridor still entered but the absolute darkness of the rest of the room began.

Jim felt himself shaking as he saw a hand approaching from the darkness, a blue hand. If he was not paralyzed before, now he was fused with the steps.

After the hand, an arm appeared, then another hand and little by little the body of the owner of those yellow eyes was revealed. In just seconds, the invader was fully revealed, all in order to smell a spoon he used to serve the stews.

It was ... A strange creature, clearly it was not a raccoon. Its skin was blue, but it had no texture of fur or scales or ... or skin, it was too smooth and firm. What was it made of? Another thing that drew attention more than the color of its skin, were the horns on its head, it had two pairs, two small on the top and some larger that waved slightly to the sides, they were a color similar to ivory. On his shoulders it also seemed to have protuberances, but they were not horns, they were slightly more translucent, it was noted by how the light that entered the basement interacted with these. Crystals? And… did he have more on his back?

"What are you?" He thought he had thought about it, but seeing the invader raise his head from sniffing the spoon to focus on him, he gulped at his loose tongue.

"Something you shouldn't be seeing" From the tone in which the blue creature spoke, it showed that he wanted to sound intimidating, aggressive, but even a small child like Jim could notice the shame that the slight tremor in his tone betrayed him.

"Then why am I seeing you?" He wasn't attacking him and seemed more interested in the spoon than in him, curiosity overcame any fear he had been feeling until now. He was a boy with a nascent streak for adventure. Could you blame him?

"... Because I failed to go unnoticed to enter your house" Now yes, the shame was more obvious. The invader dropped to his butt on the ground, taking the spoon in his hands to continue sniffing it.

"Why did you come into my house?"

"Because the sun is already rising" And the question that Jim was going to ask, was swallowed by the surprise of seeing the invader taking a bite out of his spoon, making half of the utensil disappear from a bite as if it were a simple caramel.

"... Do you have more of that? It was delicious.” It took him to see how the entire spoon was devoured so Jim could even remember how to speak.

"Uh ... I don't think my mom would like to know that you ate a spoon, if I bring you something else she may worry that she has lost kitchen utensils" A pout from the blue invader was his answer and Jim couldn't avoid a giggling, he puffed out his cheeks in a similar way to Toby when he was throwing a tantrum and it was a funny sight for him.

"Why are you laughing? Do you want us to fight? ” And his laughter died as soon as he saw the invader putting himself into a position similar to that of a bull ready to charge a bullfighter, he even moved his foot as they do to signal that it will take the hit! Jim moved his hands in frenzy, he was not very excited about the idea of getting rammed with those horns that he had on his head.

"Nononono, sorry, sorry ... You reminded me of a friend, that's all"

"... Did I remind you of one of your fleshbag friends?"

"... Fleshbags? Uh ... Yes, Toby may be a little… stuffed, but it's not to call him that”

"... Stuffed? No, I meant that all of you humans are fleshbags, you are a fleshbag”

"I am not a fleshbag!"

"Yes you are!"

"Not!"

"Yes!"

Now it was Jim's turn to pout, forgetting that he was in the basement, forgetting that his only light was coming from the open door into the hallway, he got up from the step where he was sitting and with a firm step, doing his best imitation to how he saw his mom acted when someone made her mad, he walked over to the blue invader and stood in front of him.

"I'm not a fleshbag, don't call me that"

His challenge position was quickly captured but he did not receive the answer he expected, until now the invader had remained sitting or walking on all fours, but seeing him stand in front of him with such bearing, made him respond in the same way. With a push of his arms, he got up and planted in front of Jim, puffing out his chest with the intention of appearing bigger, that even without that, he was at least a head and a half taller than the 6-year-old boy, and that without counting the horns.

"Well, humans are fleshbags, so that's what you are, fleshbag"

The two little ones held their gaze, blue eyes against yellow eyes, neither wanting to give his arm to twist in that silent challenge.

Their staring war lasted long enough that they had to look away to blink, both leaving their eyes dry for not wanting to give up. Jim was annoyed, but oddly, the invader laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I did not expect to see a child stand in front of the great Draal, fleshbag"

"My name is not fleshbag! My name is Jim! Jim Lake Jr!”

"Then we already know the other's name, Jim"

A snort came from Jim's lips while Draal only laughed.

Funny that this would not be their last fight, because what these little ones did not know is that their innocent interaction would be the key point for a radical change in the both of their worlds.

A change that only time would tell what kind of path will take. Positive? Or negative?

The divergence of fate had only just begun.

#Divergence of faith #tales of arcadia #fanfic #draal the deadly #jim lake #trollhunters #drax writes #I wrote this almost a year ago #And I DO PLAN IN FINISHING IT

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 32

Series Masterlist

Chapter 32

A/N: I finished this kind of quickly and wanted to get it out so I didn’t re-read it, So I hope it’s okay. Italics indicates flashback.

Summary: You and Fred adjust to a home life with three kids, and attend Sidney and Kathy’s wedding.

Warning: Drinking, swearing, smut, oral sex (m+f) receiving

Word Count: 5800

“Hey” you smile wrapping your arms around Kathy.

“Hey come in” she smiles pulling to the hotel room. You walk in seeing the five other bridesmaids and a bottle of champagne already empty on the table. A couple of the girls have face masks on, laughing about something; others are sitting on the couch with half empty glasses. Tomorrow is Sidney and Kathy’s wedding, being a bridesmaid you are staying with the group for a relaxing night before all the festivities begin first thing in the morning.

“You must be so happy to get away for a night” one of the girls says to you, Kathy passing you a red solo cup with champagne.

Tonight is the first night you are without the kids, and its Fred’s first time watching the three of them for a night alone. You chuckle slightly “yeah I feel bad for Fred” you say taking a sip.

“You don’t have to lie to us” Kathy says smirking over her cup.

You smile and chuckle “okay I kind of feel bad for him but I’m also super happy to be away and have a night off. A night with an entire bed to myself, it is going to be amazing.”

“And no diapers or someone puking on you” one of the girls jokes causing everyone to laugh.

The twins have been home for almost 5 weeks and it has been just as crazy as you imagined. You haven’t left Fred alone with the three of them for more than a couple hours at a time; not because you don’t think he can handle them but because you feel bad given how crazy it has been. That is until three weeks ago.

“Freddie” you call walking out to the living room. Fred is lying shirtless on the couch, Noah resting against his chest and Lucas sleeping in his arm. Fred doesn’t respond and you walk further in “shhh daddy’s sleeping” Oliver calls from the floor playing with a puzzle, causing you to smile placing your groceries on the counter.

You had some errands to run and left Fred alone with the three boys for the first time. You felt bad leaving but Fred said he would be fine, but you remember the time you were alone with them and how terribly it went. Fred reassured you everything would be fine so you headed out.

You had a dentist appointment and a hair cut in preparation for the wedding. After your haircut you checked your phone not seeing any notifications and went to get some groceries; but you didn’t notice you had accidentally put your phone on flight mode; preventing calls and texts from getting through.

Your smile quickly fades as you scan the room taking in what has unfolded during your absence. Dishes and bottles were pilled all over the counter; Fred’s shirt is thrown over the back of a barstool. You see some vomit staining his blue t-shirt and chuckle lightly. Oliver has a million toys strewn across the floor his shirt nowhere in sight.

You walk over to Oliver, dodging the blocks scattered around the floor and kiss his forehead “you good for daddy while I was gone?” you ask softly and he nods not looking up from his puzzle.

Your eyes shift to the couch, soft snores leaving his mouth and he has some dried vomit in his hair. You carefully pull Lucas from his arm and Fred doesn’t move. You walk across the room and put him in his baby swing turning it on a soft setting.

When you pick up Noah Fred stirs and his eyes flutter open “hey” he mumbles through a raspy dry voice.

“What happened to his clothes?” you ask eyeing to Noah who is just in a diaper.

“He had a um…incident” he mumbles rubbing his eyes. “Diaper, poop” he pops his hands open to mimic an explosion. “After cleaning him in the sink I never managed to get him some new clothes.”

You sit beside him on the couch bouncing Noah in your arms trying not to laugh, but secretly thankful you missed it. “Lucas projectile vomited all over me” he groans rolling on his side while you brush his hair out of his eyes. “Oliver had something, I don’t even know. He picked up on the stress or wanted attention, I don’t know. He had a meltdown; threw his toys around spilt lunch on himself and the floor. Twins were screaming bloody murder, it was a fucking disaster.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” you ask watching his eyes close again feeling extremely guilty being gone for so long.

“I did, it went right to voicemail, texts undelivered. I figured you just wanted to enjoy your time away” he laughs.

“Sorry babe” you respond lightly placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“It’s okay, I just don’t remember newborns being this tiring” he mumbles rising up on his elbow. His eyes go wide while he takes in the disaster in front of him..

“Last time we were younger. There was also only one baby then” you respond laying him back on the couch.

“Calling me old babe?” he laughs eyes closing. You kiss his forehead and place a blanket over him “no never” you joke smiling at him. ”Go have a nap I’ll clean up and make dinner.”

“Babe don’t leave me again” he mumbles which causes tears to prick the corner of your eyes; guilt washing over you. You shoot him a soft smile and stand up to get some clothes for Noah.

Since that day three weeks ago neither of you have left the other alone for an extended period of time. That is until now; he reassured you he would be fine, having a few more weeks to adjust to having three kids. You promised to make sure your phone wasn’t on airplane mode and he promised to message you if something happened. But you honestly doubt he would call you tonight, the night before the wedding unless the house was on fire.

A few hours later you are in your pyjamas in your room alone, you want to just curl up under the duvet and wait until the morning light filters in through the window but you know you shouldn’t. You pull your phone out Facetiming Freddie.

“Hey babe” he mumbles. The screen is dark for a second while you wait for him to turn on a lamp. He presses his eyes closed, gently rubbing the sleep from them before squinting at the bright lights.

“We’re you sleeping?” you ask. You look to the clock and it reads 11:06 and you feel a tinge of guilt.

“Yeah well looking after three babies for almost 8 hours gets can be exhausting” he sighs resting his phone against the pillow. “Fell asleep at like 9:30.”

“Sorry go back to bed” you say softly “I’ll see you tomorrow anyways.”

“No I want to hear about your night of freedom” he laughs. “You girls do anything crazy?”

“Room service, mani/pedi’s, face masks, champagne” you say smiling.

“Sounds really nice” he yawns eyes struggling to stay open.

“It is, now I have this king sized bed all to myself” you respond.

“It sucks I miss you in this bed” he whines.

“I’d miss me too” you giggle into the phone.

The corners of Fred’s mouth curl up, “drunk babe?” he laughs.

“We didn’t drink a lot with the wedding tomorrow and everything” you explain, a hiccup coming out of your mouth. You laugh a little bit “maybe I am a bit” you reply and Fred laughs back into the phone.

“I like slightly drunk (Y/N)” he says seductively. “Drunk (Y/N) is fun.”

You grin into the screen and talk a little bit longer, he tells you about his night with the boys. You tell him more about the night with the girls, your buzz from the champagne making you extra talkative. You notice Fred is quiet and see his eyes are shut, having fallen asleep holding the phone. You chuckle and hang up, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

“Oh we’re having kids right away, by this time next year I want there to be a baby” Kathy says from her chair getting her hair done. Sarah the maid of honour walks around handing out some mimosas to everyone before sitting down for her hair.

“I’m legit getting my IUD out 5 hours before we leave for our honeymoon, we aren’t messing around” she says taking a sip.

“Oh I need to get mine” you say quietly, with how busy the past few weeks have been you forgot to make an appointment.

Kathy all but chokes on her mimosa “what do you mean you need to get yours?”

You turn your head meeting her gaze not realizing she heard you. You feel all eyes on you while the hair stylists continue quietly working on your hair. “I’ve just been so busy the past month or so, I completely forgot to make an appointment. Three babies are a lot, were constantly busy.”

“And you think four will be easier?” she scolds from beside you. “Are you trying to get pregnant again!?”

“God no, we are done, we decided pretty soon after finding out it was twins we were done” you saw laughing.

“Then why aren’t you on birth control? You guys are obviously very fertile” Sarah jokes taking a sip from her glass.

“Well the plan was for me to get an IUD after giving birth, but after the emergency C that didn’t happen. But we’ve been so busy since the twins came home; I mean we barely have time for sex.” That part isn’t a lie; you would only need one hand to count how many times you have had sex. Lucas and Noah are on opposite schedules during the night, so when you get one to sleep, you get about 2 hours or so before the other wakes up. Between the limited sleep and chasing a rambunctious toddler who has been boycotting nap time it has led to you and Fred spending most nights actually sleeping instead of tangled in the sheets.

You get some suspicious glances from the girls “a couple nights ago we were getting ready for bed and Fred came up behind me in the bathroom kissing my neck. I finished my routine and walked into the bedroom less than ten minutes later and he was snoring on top of the sheets. It’s pretty common in our house” you laugh.

“Kay, but Oliver took one time” Kathy says.

“Yeah but I’m breast feeding, it’s 99% effective until they are 6 months. I will get an IUD but until then my doctor says we’re protected.” you reply smiling. The women drop it and continue with casual conversation while you finish getting ready.

“You look stunning” Fred says finding you after the ceremony at the fountain outside the venue. The entire wedding party and family members are scattered around in various conversations while the pictures are taken. His hands rest on your waist he leans down to kiss your cheek.

Kathy picked out a navy spaghetti strap dress with a deep v-shaped neckline, the fabric gathers just above your waist. There is a slit coming up your leg, stopping high on your thigh. You have a natural look for makeup complete with nude lips and gold eyes. You have a braid in your hair creating a crown around the back; it then is pulled into an updo at the back of your head with a few loose curls framing your face. Your hair being held back by a million bobby pins shows off the cut of your dress.

“Thanks babe” you respond smiling. You run your hands over his suit jacket “you look amazing too” you rise slightly on your heels to kiss him on the lips. He is wearing a new crisp burgundy suit with a black skinny tie.

“Ok, I look good, but have you seen yourself? I’ll have to thank Kathy later” he jokes placing a hand on your lower back. “This dress babe, absolutely stunning” he leans down to place another kiss on your lips when you get interrupted.

“(Y/N) we need you for a picture” Sarah calls causing Fred to groan and pull away from you.

“Guess I’ll just have to stare at you for the next few hours” he brings his lips to the side of your face “and think of what I’ll do once you’re out of that dress.” He pulls away smirking at you and walking away from you, you feel some wetness pool between your legs. You take a couple deep breaths before joining the group for pictures.

The rest of the wedding goes off without a hitch, throughout the dinner you feel Fred staring at you from his table across the venue. Every time you catch him staring he smiles at you and turns his attention away briefly, only to bring it back a few minutes later. You shake your head at him slightly; your eyes go wide when he licks his lips with his eyes locked on you.

“You know the entire ceremony all I was thinking about was what you’re going to look like in a wedding dress” he whispers hand sliding onto your lower back dancing slowly to the music.

You smile looking past him but turn to meet his gaze “I mean it” he says kissing your forehead “I can’t wait until it’s our wedding.”

“Want to push it to next year?” you ask while he spins you back into his hard chest. You had been discussing taking two years for the wedding just so you aren’t rushed and don’t have to pull time away from your family to get everything done.

“Think we can get everything done in time? Won’t be too stressful for us” he’s holding you close; you can smell his cologne causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Yeah I was looking at places, and this one castle has a planner that will help coordinate most of the stuff” you respond. “They do the food, alcohol, décor and have an in house photographer and videographer.”

He turns to look at you slightly confused “didn’t know there were any castles in North America.”

“Oh I was thinking Denmark” you say smiling up at him.

Fred stops dancing looking down at you “you want to get married in Denmark?”

“Yeah” you smile. “It’s so beautiful there, and it’s where you’re from.”

“And you’re from Canada; there are a lot of beautiful places there. You don’t want to get married there?” he asks.

“Canada doesn’t have castles, besides we can leave the boys at your moms and go on our honeymoon” you say causing a large grin to cross his face while he resume dancing.

“So Denmark, next summer” he repeats with a smile on his face. You nod in agreeance feeling Fred’s lips press against yours; you release his arm sliding a hand up to the back of his neck. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss. You feel Fred lean forward, tilting you back your other hand gripping the back of his neck. Your moans are swallowed by the kiss, his hand sliding slightly lower to your ass where it stays for a few more songs.

You see the other guests making their way to the roof and follow the crowd. You lean your head back onto Fred’s chest, his hand resting on your stomach. You tilt your head to the sky, watching as it lights up in a colourful display. Fred’s thumb gently rubs circles on your stomach, a soft sigh leaving your lips while you watch the fireworks.

“I love you” Fred whispers in your ear part way through the show “I’m so lucky to have you.”

You turn around in his grip, wrapping your arms around him under his jacket resting your head on his chest. A slight shiver courses through your body from the cool night air, arms tightening against his body. Fred pulls away and pulls his jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders. You tilt your head, your gaze shifting from the fireworks to Fred’s eyes.

The colours in the sky reflecting off his eyes while he smiles down at you. The heels you are wearing help to close the gap, but you still have to lift up slightly to press your lips to his. One of Fred’s hand rests on your back inside his jacket, the other gripping the back of your neck. It runs slightly into your hair getting caught in the curls and bobby pins currently holding it in place.

You open your mouth for him, his tongue sliding in. Your hips involuntarily arch forward into his touch, hands sliding up his stubbled chin. His hand on your back slides down giving your ass a firm squeeze causing you to pull away slightly with your draw dropping open,.

“Relax my jacket is long enough nobody can see” he mumbles bringing his lips closer to yours again. You can see the half smile tugging at the sides of his mouth when his lips come crashing back against yours.

“How long do we have to stay” you mumble into the kiss.

You hear Fred groan and feel his half erection pressing into your stomach. He pulls his left hand away to look at the watch wrapped around it “its only 11” he responds causing a loud groan to slip from your lips. Luckily the firework display muffles you from nearby guests.

“We have a very comfortable bed waiting for us” you continue resting your hand on his chest feeling some moisture that has collected from the dancing throughout the night.

“A bed where we can sleep uninterrupted” he jokes “no kids.”

You laugh turning your gaze back to the firework show as they prepare for the finale. “Sleeping in, breakfast in bed” he groans under his breath, you clench your legs

A few hours later after many more drinks you are finally walking into the hotel elevator. As soon as the door closes Fred is on you, hoisting you up with ease. He presses your back to the wall, your legs naturally wrapping around him. His hand slides to the bottom of your thigh, while his other to your thigh where your leg slit has left you exposed. He runs his hand up your skin stopping when he hits your hip bone. His thumb plays gently with the cloth covering your core his mouth peppering kisses along your exposed collarbone only stopping when the door dings open.

He sets you down, adjusting his jacket while you fix the fabric that has shifted from your breasts. He leads you down the hall holding the door open for you. You step out of your shoes and Fred immediately loosens his tie pulling it over his head, throwing it along with his jacket on the floor. Fred turns and bends down throwing you over his shoulder while making his way to the bed.

He throws you onto the bed a light squeal escapes from you. You hear his shoes be kicked to the side, next is a belt buckle clanging on the hardwood floor and last his vest is discarded on the ground. You rest on your forearms watching as he undoes a couple buttons from his neck. You swallow the lump in your throat feeling wetness pool between your legs.

You think about how you could stare at Fred all night while he rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, showing off his muscular forearm. Before you have a chance to stare much longer Fred crawls over you locking you in a hungry and passionate kiss. He bends your knee his hand running up and down the exposed skin from your slit.

He crawls down you climbing inside the bottom of your dress hooking your legs over his shoulders in the process. He slowly arches your back off the bed pulling your underwear down your legs. You feel him alternate between kissing and sucking the side of your thigh, while a deep exhale leaves your lips.

He nips your skin slowly approaching the area you need him most, his beard rubbing against your folds. He turns his head, warm breath blows against you coming closer to you. His nose presses into your clit first, followed by his mouth gently attaching to you. He flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up you, your head falling back into the pillow.

He groans against you “you’re so wet baby” he mumbles placing long licks, cleaning up what has been pooling all night.

“You’ve seen yourself right” you moan while he dip his tongue inside your walls. You feel the corners of his lips curl up at your comment licking deep inside you. Your heels dig into his back; you reach down to grab his hair but are met with the chiffon fabric of your dress. You bring them down to your side and grip the bedding his nose digging in deeper into your clit.

You buck your hips up towards his face, his hands slide over your hips pulling you down closer to his face. You start rocking your hips against his face and tongue moaning loudly. He flicks his tongue sucking against your clit.

“Oh fuckkkkk” you moan loudly. Too loudly; feeling his tongue hitting inside your sweet spot. He throws his arm over your hips pinning you to the mattress; he rolls his head around in circles, grunting and moaning into your pussy. You feel your orgasm building when he curls his tongue inside you. He brings up two fingers sliding them in and opening you up further moaning at the taste of you.

Your legs tighten around his head holding him closer to you while you clench around his tongue. He works you through your orgasm continuing the pace until you stop. You relax against him when you are finished and he pulls his tongue out all the way cleaning you up. You expect him to stop but he continues to lick up and down your pussy, flicking at your clit when he gets to it. His fingers curl in hitting your sweet spot he hits it a few times tongue flicking against your clit. He brings you to another quick orgasm, this one so strong your legs shaking around him. Your knuckles are white and you tremble; his tongue still working you through it.

He pulls his head away slowly, his beard grazing along your thighs. You shiver at the contact and the feeling of your sensitive cut being released.

“You need more clothes like this” he says head popping out from your dress “the leg slit is very useful.”

You tilt your head laughing while your grip eases on the bedding. “I’ll be sure to add some in to my wardrobe, flowy dresses are very convenient with newborns.”

Fred crawls up towards you, juices glistening off his beard a smile plastered on your face. “Good” he mumbles bringing his lips to yours. You moan tasting yourself on him and feeling his painfully hard member pressing into your stomach.

He pushes your straps down your shoulders and he gently lifts your back feeling around for a zipper. “It’s on the side” you whisper turning slightly to allow him better access. You hear the zipper while he slowly drags it down you helping you out of it. He throws it over to the side, falling off the chair onto the floor.

His mouth immediately attached to your breast sucking on the nipple. You bring your hands down to his waist fumbling with the button as his thumb reattaches to your clit. A loud gasp leaves your lips having not recovered from your previous two orgasms. He chuckles mumbling something against your exposed flesh while you try to focus through the pleasure to push his pants down his thighs.

His mouth switches to the other breast; you bring your hands up to address his shirt. You lift a leg trying to push his pants down with your foot. Fred’s thumb presses harder into your clit causing a loud moan to leave your lips.

“Freddie” you whine unable to concentrate on stripping him. His head pops up “yeah babe?” he asks knowing exactly what you want.

“You need to stop so I can take your clothes off.”

He just smiles at you and pulls away resting on his knees. He undoes the final two buttons and pushes his dress shirt off his body; you see beads of sweat rolling down his chest. He pushes his pants and boxers of his legs his cock springing free. A light moan escapes your lips watching it slap against his stomach. It’s painfully hard, head glistening with precum your mouth waters thinking about wrapping your lips around it

“You can’t” he whispers following your gaze. A pout comes across your lips “just a little” you whine back.

He groans and falls onto his back shaking his head at you “just a taste” he responds bending an arm behind his head. “Thanks” you hum adjusting yourself between his legs.

You wrap your lips around the tip, and slowly take more and more into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat. You can hear Fred moaning, you look up at him through your lashes half expecting him to cum then and there from the sounds he is making. You swirl your tongue around him, running it up the vein on the underside, he attempts to grab your hair but is met by a mess of hairspray and pins.

You rise up leaving just the tip remaining in your mouth. You smirk up at him and bring your mouth down, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hips lift off the bed while you do this a few more times. Finally you feel him grip your hair and pull you off him, saliva dripping down your chin.

“I said a taste” he growls pushing you onto your back. You feel him poke at your entrance and slowly push into you. You take a sharp inhale feeling him stretch your walls from the limited sex you have had with him recently.

He continues to gently push in you, staring at you and watching your expression the entire time while you accommodate him. He goes slowly but with determination, gently thrusting back and forth as he works his way deeper inside you. Your hands find the back of his neck, gripping his chain pulling his forehead down to yours.

The pain slowly turns into pleasure while he continues his gentle but persistent pace. His forehead is glued to yours, his brown eyes never leaving yours. Each thrust going slightly deeper than the last, Fred biting his lower lip the entire time.

You can hear how wet you are every time he thrusts into you, finally he bottoms out. His pelvis connects with yours, the head of his cock pressing up against your cervix, just gently pushing it. He softly grunts feeling your warm walls holding him in; muttering under his breath. "So sexy …Fuck..Milking my cock".

Your legs wrap around his waist, a hand sliding down his neck to his bicep. Fred picks up the pace, your nails digging crescent shaped marks in his muscles. He moves your legs so they are against his shoulders, getting even deeper inside you. You turn into a writhing mess under him, your third orgasm swiftly building. Fred snaps his hips, fucking into you faster and faster.

Your hips arch off the bed, the room being filled with your loud moans. Fred smirks knowing exactly where you are thrusting faster as you cum for him. You clench around him holding him tightly inside you, walls fluttering around his cock.

And then, Fred groans, and you are met with his familiar warmth filling you up. He gives you a few more slow thrusts before releasing your legs and he practically melts on top of you. You lightly rake your hand over his sweaty back while he moans softly, your heart rates slowly returning to normal.

His soft moans turn into soft snores. He is fully on top of you, his dick still resting inside of your walls. If it wasn’t for the exhaustion you would have woken him up, but you know how much he needs the sleep so you allow your eyes to close using the man above you as a blanket.

You are the first to wake up in the morning, Fred now lying beside you on his back. At some point you both made your way under the sheets which are hanging low on his hips. You cautiously crawl out of bed, careful to not wake the sleeping man beside you.

You return from the bathroom a few minutes later having pulled out a bunch of the pins in your hair and notice the sheet had slipped down past his waist. His beautiful cock right there on display.

You consider waking him up in a way that has been appreciated in the past but decide to let him sleep a little longer. You walk around the bed lifting the sheet and crawling back in. Fred feels the bed shift and his eyes flutter open, you lying on your arm looking at him.

“Morning” he mumbles through a hoarse voice.

“Hey” you whisper brushing the hair from his forehead.

“What time is it?” he asks rolling onto his side to look at you. He smiles, his brown eyes opening completely to look at you. You reach for your phone but it’s off causing you to groan and rise up to look at the clock on the table beside him. “Fuck your beautiful” he says bringing his thumb to rub up and down your arm.

You go to smile until you see the time “fuck Fred it’s after 11.” You quickly throw the sheet off to get out of the bed but he easily grips you pulling you back down to the bed.

“Babe” you whine “checkout is 10.”

“Well that’s long gone” he laughs. You try to push him away but he firmly holds you to his chest. He chuckles at your meek attempt to free yourself “it’s not a big deal, we’ll just have to pay for another night.” Fred rolls on top of you, his entire weight pinning you below him.

“But Christie” you start. You only have her booked until 12, and you still have to pack and do the 30 min drive across the city.

“I scheduled her til 2” he mumbles lips attaching to your neck. Before you can process what he said or respond there is a knock on the door forcing him to pull away. He stands up and throws his dress shirt your way for you to cover up with while he quickly pulls his dress pants up his large thighs.

He waits for you to do some of the buttons and adjust the blankets around your waist then opens the door. You hear some muffled talking and some creaking and are met by a man wheeling in a table with breakfast. His eyes go wide seeing you in bed, Fred’s white dress shirt doing little to hide your perked nipples. His eyes linger a little causing your cheeks to heat up; when Fred clears his throat causing the man to excuse himself and leave the room.

“You planned this” you exclaim hearing the door shut.

“That guy couldn’t have been any more obvious” he ignores you walking over to pour you some coffee.

“Fred” you say grinning at him waiting for a response.

“Yes I obviously planned this. He pours some syrup over the french toast and brings a piece to your mouth. You open slightly the fork sliding between your lips. You moan, your mouth being filled with amazing flavours.

“When I booked the hotel I made it for three nights. I actually considered trying to get you stay, but I knew there was no way you would leave the boys for three nights.” You smile at him over your mug loving that he knows you that well. As much as you have enjoyed the 36 or so hours away you can’t wait to get back to your sons.

“That and I felt bad for Christie if we had of left her alone for two nights” he laughs biting a piece of bacon.

“I figured we both could use a day to sleep in” he says bringing more french toast to you. “So I ordered us a late breakfast.”

“And my phone” you respond knowing you had an alarm set, picking up a fork and dig in to the hash browns.

“You put it in my pocket and wandered off to the bar. I just turned it off” he shrugs while you laugh. He places a quick kiss on your cheek “have to admit it was a good plan.”

He quickly returns his attention to the breakfast shovelling in a few more bites. You laugh resting your head on his shoulder “yeah you’re pretty awesome” you respond setting your mug back on the table. You feel a pin digging into the side of your skull and pull away, walking to the mirror you pull out the few you had forgotten earlier.

You hear the clatter of cutlery on the table, and Fred wheels it a few feet out of the way. His arm grips around your waist pulling a squeal from your mouth “you look incredible in my shirt” he groans pulling you to the bed. His thumb grips your hip while he bends you over the foot of the bed, his pants quickly landing in a pile at his feet.

You press your hips back feeling his erection press into your ass. He pushes his shirt up exposing you to him, he brings a hand firmly to your ass. You groan feeling pain radiate in your cheek and wetness build in your core. His hard cock grazes your folds soaking up some of your juices before he slams in to you.

Unlike last night you aren’t given time to adjust. Your ass is immediately met by his stomach, him pressed fully inside of you while he begins a fast pace. Your fists clenched on the sheet, your pussy clenches around his cock. You moan loudly, screaming into the duvet and pushing yourself back onto him.

Wedding look:

Next Chapter

#frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl smut #nhl fic #because two people got drunk #my writing

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thepropertylovers · 2 years

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A Clean House = A Happier Husband

Even after six years of marriage, and over 11 years of being together, it’s always fun (interesting?) to learn something new about your husband.

Such was the case yesterday. To start off, our house is not the tidiest. Or the cleanest. Regardless of what you may or may not see on social media, our house lately looks like a tornado went through it. Despite my best efforts, I’m finding it harder to keep it clean on a day to day basis. It feels like the second I get one room semi-cleaned, it gets trashed again within minutes. Maybe even seconds.

Even when our house is technically clean, there is still stuff everywhere. Just stuff. Papers, mail, boxes, little toys here and there, paperclips, cups, books, magazines, etc. No one would ever accuse us of being minimalists, and I actually don’t mind the look of clutter in a controlled sense, but it has gotten out of hand lately, and we’ve both felt overwhelmed by the state of our house the last few months.

So yesterday after a somewhat heated discussion, and a resolution to do better, PJ decided to do something about it: as I prepared dinner, he went through the ENTIRE house and cleaned. He threw away a ton of trash, washed couch cushions, organized stacks of papers, rearranged items that have been in the same place for months (that never should have been there in the first place), put toys away, cleaned our desk that has been a mess for a while now, and deep cleaned our bathroom (even behind the toilet!). Phew. I’m getting exhausted just writing all of that.

PJ is a machine. If you’ve been here a while, you know that when he sets his mind to something, he does it, and he does it quickly. I’m a little slower (read: a lot slower) in that department, and it usually takes me a while to finish cleaning. I get distracted and off task easily, so while my intentions are good, it just takes me a bit longer to reach my goal. Thank goodness we have each other, right? 😂

Anyway, while cleaning, PJ shared with me why he gets so frustrated when the house is a wreck. It’s no secret that he has anxiety; PJ’s been very open about his struggles and has even discussed it in a few of our YouTube videos. He informed me that, a lot of times, a messy environment affects people with anxiety because, at least in his case, he needs a certain amount of control in his life in order to feel safe, to feel normal, and when the house is messy, there’s no sense of control. Everything is all over the place and it causes his anxiety to heighten, leaving him upset and, in many ways, disoriented.

In a blog post for the site Scary Mommy, Wendy Wisner, who has an anxiety disorder, shares that, “Cleaning up clutter is not just another thing on the to-do list like packing my kids’ lunches, changing the car’s oil, or making my next dentist appointment. It’s a full-on ragey kind of panic.”

She explains further, “It’s the feeling that I literally can’t breathe with all the clutter that’s filling our house. It’s a feeling that the world is a chaotic place that I can’t control, and all of that chaos is represented by the loud, unruly, angsty wreck that is my living room.”

It’s proven that the state of your home, of any of environment really, has a profound affect on your overall mood, for better or for worse. A home that is in disarray can cause you to “feel mentally overloaded, drained or lacking control- unpleasant sensations that are all too familiar to people living with anxiety,” says a recent article on HuffPost.com.

The article quotes Kim Strong, a licensed clinical social worker at Wellspace SF: “For many people, their home is a sanctuary away from the overstimulation of the world and its daily operations. A messy or disorganized environment at home can be a tangible reminder of this chaos and may cause a feeling of being out of control or anxious. Looking around at a messy room can be a reminder of a long to-do list, unfinished tasks or, in general, can make moving around and finding things one needs more difficult.”

The few hours PJ spent cleaning last night weren’t just good for the look and functionality of our home, but for his mental health as well. I feel sad to say I never knew that about him until now. I never knew that, when our house is unorganized and messy, it causes his anxiety to rise and go into overdrive. We talked last night and he shared with me his tolerance level when it comes to how disorderly the house can get before his anxiety kicks in, and we both agreed to work harder at it. Our preferences might be different, but the goal of us both having a healthy mental state, and doing whatever it takes to achieve that, is the same.

Marriage, and life in general, is about working together towards a common goal, listening to the other person and taking in, really taking in, what they have to say, and making the appropriate changes if needed. After six years of marriage and over 11 years of being together, it’s always fun and interesting to learn something new about your husband.

Especially when it helps him lead a happier life.

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susiequaz12 · 3 years

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Whumptober 28- Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.

Alrighty- day 28 of whumptober, and part 10 of Ira the bird boi’s story. The rest of his story can be found here. @imagination1reality0 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whump-me-all-night-long

Prompt: Accidents. CW: restraints, whumpee sold for parts, needles needles needles, also blood, some medical whump maybe? (Ira’s blood is magical so they’re taking it to be sold), whumpee treated like an object- nonhuman whumper. (I won’t be offended if yall’s don’t read this cause of needles- I don’t like them either but it makes for good whump sometimes.)

- - -

“How many orders did we get in?” The man in the white coat was pacing down the hallway as Sir fiddled with a stack of papers.

“About 25 so far. Each wants at least an ounce, but there are a few asking for more. They’re willing to pay double what’s asked for the extra ounces so fill those orders first, got it?”

Sir handed the stack of papers to the doctor and walked with him down the hall where a few other people were standing. A few of them had boxes filled with small bottles and the others had packaging supplies- bubble wrap, postage stickers- boxes and things.

“Okay- extract it right into the vials and get it addressed and sent to shipment as soon as possible. The more fresh it stays- the better.” Sir helped the doctor go over the orders and amounts that each person wanted as the people began filing into the small room. “We’ve had a few people pay in advance- so their orders go out first. We don’t ship the orders until payment has been received, understand?”

The doctor nodded. He made a few scribbles across the paper and then filed into the room after all the other workers.

The creature lied still on a medical chair- like one that you would find in a dentist’s office. It’s wrists and ankles were restrained and larger bands wrapped around it’s upper legs, torso, and neck. It was barely dressed in anything- and shivered where it lay- eyes wide open with the fear and the cold. The man could see the dark feathers underneath its back from where its wings were curled up underneath him.

“Alright- let’s get started.” The man commanded.

Ira didn’t know what was happening.

He only knew that he had been pulled out of his cage that morning and tied up in this chair. He couldn’t move- couldn’t wiggle- and he was so scared.

So scared of what they were going to do to him.

The man had a tray full of small, shiny things. Things that looked sharp- and others that were brightly colored and strange.

Ira flinched as something scratchy was wrapped around his arm. He squeezed tightly and he winced- flinching again as a second one was tied around his other arm.

The man gripped his arm in his hand- and Ira realized how little he was- the man’s entire hand dwarfed Ira’s forearm- he could have snapped it like a twig if he wanted to…

But instead his fingers poked and prodded, turning and twisting the limb to inspect it further.

“Funny- the veins are so dark against its skin- they stand out so clearly.” The man said.

Then there was cold on the crook of his arm- and then pain.

It wasn’t too much pain- but a slight pinch nonetheless that made him whimper as it prodded his arm.

And then he felt it inside of him.

He gasped and cried out as the man fussed, wiggling the obtrusive item around his arm, before it was pulled out.

“Okay- they’re visible, but apparently they don’t want to be punctured- interesting…”

The man was talking to himself- and Ira wished he had had more time with Nola to learn more of these strange words that he still didn’t understand.

And then the pain came again.

It was harsher this time- the sharp thing digging- moving around inside of him and Ira cried.

“Stop- it hurts- just stop- please-”

But then it stopped moving. He still felt it inside of him- but it had stopped moving.

But it was still inside of him.

And then it happened all over again on his other arm.

He sat there- fists clenched with these things inside of him, tears pouring down his face as the man collected other supplies- hustling and bustling around him.

Other things were attached the needle in his arm- and soon his blood was being withdrawn.

Ira could literally feel the tools and items pulling the blood out of his veins- and he panicked.

“No! That’s mine- stop- my blood- I- I need that!”

But they didn’t stop.

His blood was emptied into vials that were stuck with labels that were wrapped in styrofoam that were packaged in boxes. To be given to people- that were not him.

People who it didn’t belong to- people who didn’t need Ira’s blood as much as Ira needed his own blood.

His limbs grew weaker as they continued- and he worried how much they were going to take. He found himself unable to even wiggle a finger or move his head as he felt that liquid slowly draining from him.

They had a few boxes ready to be shipped- and Ira was getting concerned- they showed no sign of stopping.

“Please, my- I need that- that’s my blood, I need-”

And then he did something he didn’t think he’d have the courage to do.

He spoke- their words.

“Stop.” he issued the single word as clearly as his body would let him. “Stop- p-please. No-”

And the room did stop.

Every hand dropped, every head turned, and every eye stared.

One quiet voice piped up.

“I- I didn’t think he could-”

“Shut up and get back to work.” The man in charge stated. All eyes and heads turned away and the hands returned back to their duties.

Ira’s mouth closed as well as the man came to look him in the face.

“I better not hear anything else out of you understand? Keep that puny little mouth shut or I’ll make you be quiet.”

Ira barely had the strength to nod- so he closed his mouth tightly instead.

Several rounds of blood later, Ira had stayed quiet.

Almost too quiet.

The doctor looked up from his work and cursed.

He looked clammy- at least what clammy would be for someone with already natural white/grey skin. But he was sweating down his forehead, his eyes had drooped closed, and his breath was nearly nonexistent.

“Hey! How many bottles do we have?” The doctor asked. People mumbled about trying to get a concise number.

“How many bottles do we have!”

“43.” Someone shouted back.

The doctor struggled to do the quick math in his head. An ounce per bottle- how many ounces per litres- and with however much blood this thing had in it’s body- it-

They’d taken almost half of all his blood supply.

No wonder he looked dead.

The doctor swore again- just as Sir walked into the room to check up on everything.

“How’s it going-” Sir stopped. “What’s wrong with it?”

The doctor stumbled over his words as he tried to remove the needles and tubes from the creature.

“We- I- was trying to fill the orders and I accidentally- took- withdrew- I withdrew too much blood Sir- it should be- it-”

His stuttered attempts at words were cut off as the man struck him to the ground. The doctor gripped his face and scrambled backwards to his feet.

“You accidentally. Drew. Too. Much. Blood.” Sir cowered over the other man as the workers sat there in silence. “Hmm? How do you accidentally draw too much blood? I asked you to fill a couple of orders, not to kill it! How can I run a business if the source of income is dead because of someone’s accident?”

Sir grabbed him by the collar and dragged him over to the door.

“Get out! You’re accident has cost you your job- leave.”

“But sir- I- I, please-”

Sir threw him fiercely out of the door and he tumbled into the hallway.

“I said, leave.”

Shivers went down everyone’s spine as Sir issued the command. His voice stern- but quiet. With a fierce calm to it light the wind before a storm.

“Everyone else- leave.”

No one hesitated to do as he asked.

As soon as the room was empty the man approached the creature- still tied down to the chair. He loosened the bands around his neck and wrists and pulled the needles out of his arms.

The man looked at it gently, and then placed a hand atop of its head- running fingers slowly through the pale blue hair.

Sir shook his head and let out a concerned chuckle.

“You’re either going to be the death of me- or the saving grace to this company.”

#whumptober2020 #no.28 #ira the bird boi #ocs #my ocs #my writing #whump writing #non human whumpee #needles tw #blood tw #medical whump #withdrawing blood #restrained #whumpee treated like an object #why did i write this i don't like needles ahhhh #literally though- okay storytime #I was getting my wisdom teeth out #and they couldn't get a needle in my veins for the anesthesia to knock me out #cause I was sooo dehydrated and cold and problematic that the veins just did a nope #so they tried 11 times in four different spots to get the needle in #it was traumatizing to say the least #they just ended up giving me a shot in both arms to knock me out #which they should have just done in the first place #but they didn't want to cause I'm little #and there'd be a chance I wouldn't wake up well from it #which i didn't wake up well from it cause it took me longer to wake up than to do the actual surgery #cool bug facts #anyways thats my freaky needle story that yall probs didn't need to hear #my dentist said i was gonna wake up looking like a drug addict with all the needle marks in my arms

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Freak Du Chic Gooliope Jellington Diary

5, April

“Family Night” at Freak du Chic is always a little bittersweet for me. On the one claw it’s a joy to sometimes see three or four generations of a family sitting together and enjoying the show, but on the other I know that it is something I will probably never experience. Of course, I never say anything to any of the other performers because I know it would hurt their feelings. In fact, just tonight I heard Jitterwing say to one of the customers, “Oh, that’s Gooliope. She’s the Ringmaster’s daughter, but every monster on the midway claims her as their own.” When I heard that it made me feel I was being ungrateful for the unlife I have, but when the show closed and everything was quiet and still, I came back to my tent and opened my trunk. There, inside the glass jar that was my first “crib” is a well-worn note. I always expect it to say something different, to mysteriously change and tell me something it didn’t before, but it never does. On one side is typed:

Experiment 816 Batch 8708

And on the other side is:

To Whom It May Concern: A cold, sterile world is no place to raise a little goo. I can give her everything, except a community where the only thing about her that will ever be measured is the size of her heart. I know that you can give her the unlife I cannot. Sincerely, R.S.

One day maybe I will find R.S., or maybe R.S. will come and find me. Until then then note goes back into the jar, the jar goes back in the trunk, and I will try to go to sleep, for tomorrow everything must be broken down and packed to move. Then it’s on to the next location with my family.

9, April

I have heard that when unlife gets creepy crazy, some monsters threaten to “run away and join the circus.” I think if they knew what unlife in the circus was really like they would threaten to “run away and join a team of dragon dentists” or something equally eventful. I guess I don’t blame them, though; the Freak du Chic really is quite magical when there are daring acts under the big top and the midway is hopping; when the cadence calls of the pitch monsters ring and the deadlicious smells of scarnival treats rill the air. Then there’s the excitement of travel. Moving from town to town, seeing new scenery and constantly meeting new monsters does have an adventurous mystique about it. But... it takes hours and hours of practice to make those daring acts look flawless, and our audiences never see the bumps, bruises and sprains that come before the perfection. Yes, scarnival food is indeed clawesome, but there are only so many fried cheese stuffed pies on a stick you can eat before all you really want is an apple. Traveling can be exciting, if you can actually stay awake long enough to see the scenery between stops. I mean, after we’ve finished packing tents and wagons and rides and concessions, and everything else that makes the Freak du Chic what is is, being able to sleep is a real treat. In fact, I think I’ll treat myself now before we get to the next location and the magic and adventure start all over again.

12, April

Today the show was “dark,” so some of the crew went into the local town to get some supplies. They asked me if I wanted to go, but I said I had homework to catch up on so I couldn’t. When I was just a little goo I loved making those trips into town, but I wasn’t very little for very long, and now that I’m 15 feet 2 inches tall it’s impossible to be inconspicuous. It was scary sweet of them to ask, but I really never feel comfortable away from the scarnival. I guess I don’t mind so much when monsters stare at me during the shows because that’s part of the reason they come to Freak du Chic. Here, I’m a performer; out there I’m an oddity.

18, April

Today is my birthday and no one acknowledged it. I spent the whole day trying to convince myself that it was okay that no one remembered, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. I just kept thinking that somebody would SAY SOMETHING, and when no one did I went back to my tent and threw myself a pity party. It was a good one, too, complete with “no one loves me” and “who needs a stupid 16th birthday anyway?” I was even getting ready to unwrap “if they don’t appreciate me here I’ll just go find someplace where they do” when the FDC emergency siren went off. It didn’t take me long to forget about myself, because that alarm is only sounded when every monster’s help is needed. I ran as fast as I could to the place where we were all supposed to gather in an emergency, but when I got there no one else was around. Then the lights went out and I was like, “What’s going on?” That’s when I noticed candles coming towards me through the darkness. The candles, of course, were on a ginormous birthday cake. As it got closer I could see that Dad and Mom were carrying the cake, and behind them came everyone else, and they began to sing “Happy Birthday.” I was so surprised that I almost started crying. Dad and Mom said, “You didn’t think we forgot your birthday, did you?” I had to admit maybe just a little bit. I got some scary cool presents, too! The scarousel monster gave me a killer pair of shoes with horses for heels and a callope hair comb. The tent monster and seamstress used canvas and sillk to create a beautiful dress and epaulettes just my size. The wagon monster and blacksmith gave me earrings made from wheels. The clowns got me two ginormous jars of my favorite gummy candy. Actually, only one of the jars had candy; the other was a trick jar that shot out spring-loaded bats. Clowns. Finally, Dad and Mom gave me a necklace with an 816 pendant. Then I really did choke up. They are the best parents any goo ever had, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this family. It was the BEAST. BIRTHDAY. EVER.

1, May

Dad has a big map of the wall of his ringmaster’s trailer. He uses different colored pins to show where we’re going, where we’ve been, and even a color for places on his “casket list.” This year he was able to change one of those out for a “place we’re going” pin. The place is Monster High. Dad said he’d always wanted to take the show there, but the schedule could never be worked out. This year one of the towns where we usually play canceled because a giant sinkhole opened up under their scare grounds, so now we’re going to Monster High! Dad says we’ll be there for two weeks, and he thinks that we should make enough money to repair and upgrade a lot of our equipment during the off-season. I really hope that it turns out like he hopes because I know he’s been worried lately, although he would never admit it.

10, May

When it comes to working around here, there really can’t be any dead weight; because if one monster doesn’t do their job it means someone else has to work twice as hard to pick up the slack. That’s never been a problem with our crew. In fact, most of the time whenever someone finishes the work they’re supposed to do, they go and find someone else to help. So when monsters started coming down with the boo flu we all just did what was natural. Even so, we were down to a skeleton crew when we put up the tents this morning. After that they all pretty much crashed. This is the first time we’ll be performing at Monster High and it’s a big show for us, especially since it’s the last one before we take a break for the year. I guess I should be thankful I was born in a lab, because I never get sick and I’ve been able to help take care of everyone. Only... I’m starting to worry that without some help the show might not groan on. So I’ve made up my mind that in the morning I am going to go find some help. The very thought of it makes my entire body feel wobbly, but there are monsters that I love who are counting on me and I will not let my family down.

#monster high #monster high diary #freak du chic #gooliope jellington

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

Text

Back to the sun (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! How are you guys? I hope everyone is doing okay. In this terrifying and stressful time it's important to take care of yourself and your loved ones, stay safe <3

I’ve been spaming my blog with La Casa de Papel, because I’ve addicted myself to it and I have no shame. If you haven’t watched it and you have the chance to do so, I strongly recommend it, Sergio and Raquel is my newest OTP and I will fight for them.

This fic is long. Like, *long*. Not the longest one I've written but it's up there. It uses the information from OH2, takes place most likely before chapter 6.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23546905

Tag list: @paleweasels, @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h Enjoy! <3

--------

„We have to stop getting ourselves into situations like these.” He muttered under his breath, gripping the handle of his suitcase so hard, he was scared it would break. He used it as an anchor, trying not to drown in the ocean of his confused emotions and feelings. She bit back a laugh, choosing instead to smirk at his remark.

“Yes, please, remind me to say ‘no’ next time you give me an assignment. I’m sure you would be over the moon.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, feeling distant and much too cold for his liking. It’s been that way for a few weeks now, the utter and complete ‘control’ she had over herself whether they were in close proximity. A month ago, she might have been a bit more friendly, but those times were long gone, leaving only the stiff sense of professionalism that he so desperately wanted to maintain with her.

They wouldn’t be in that impasse if he hadn’t been such an idiot and just talked to her. Instead, he chose to ignore her completely. The hospital was in trouble, the team was in trouble, and deep down he knew that. He knew that she might have had a point, going against him and contacting that patient when he oh so clearly told her not to.

But she did, and now the Board sensed profit. Who could blame them, they had to figure out a way to keep the hospital afloat; it made perfect sense to use her idea, and no amount of his protests would change the fact that in their situation, with a knife against their throat, they had no other choice.

Deafening silence dropped between them, increasing the discomfort they both felt when interacting with each other tenfold. Without even a second of hesitation, she walked past him and went to the security line. He followed, feeling even worse about the whole trip than he did when he left his apartment this morning.

Because apparently, the team was now being rented out to the patient’s home like some device, they were called to the patient all the way on the island in the Philippines. They couldn’t just leave their patients, so it was decided that half of the team would go, while the other half stays behind. It was Ethan’s luck that June had her dentist appointment that week and Baz had to attend a class, which left Claire and Ethan at the airport, about to board the plane.

And still, not another word was being said. If he had a wand, he would have gone back in time and smacked himself in the back of his head. Told his past self that being stubborn when it came to situations like those had never been a good idea, especially when the only woman on his mind was involved in the situation. Pushed him towards her so they could talk, so they could avoid being stuck between hatred and emptiness.

His every try at sparking up a conversation with her that had nothing to do with their work was immediately shut down. He couldn’t even count how many times he wondered if this was what she felt like every time he pushed her away. Feeling like an idiot was bad enough, but now he also felt like an asshole, and it just added to the emptiness that roared in his chest every time he looked at her and she turned away from him.

Once they were stuck in a plane in adjacent seats, he figured there would be nowhere for them to run, so, logically, they would have to talk eventually. Oh, how wrong he was. Books, music, sleep, something called Netflix that was confusing to him but from what he gathered, it allowed her to watch movies and shows. She did it all, just so that she wouldn’t have to talk to him. Turning towards the window so she wouldn’t even have to look at him.

What a long week that would be.

-----------

He could only hope that no one heard the door to his office slam behind him. He didn’t even reach his desk when they opened again, then slammed shut once more. Steps followed, then a chair got pulled back in haste and suddenly they were seeing eye to eye.

“Can you talk to me? Or are you going to be throwing that hissy fit of yours for the rest of my residency?” she asked, as calmly as she possibly could, given the circumstance. He scoffed, leaning back in his seat with folded arms.

“I don’t see the need to talk to you. Just like you didn’t see the need to talk to me before you went behind my back and compromised the team’s ideals.”

“I did talk to you, but you were too busy caring about morals that aren’t even yours, Ethan. I get that Naveen wanted the team to work differently, trust me, I do. But times changed, situation has changed along with it, and we can’t afford to be guided just by those aspirations, no matter how noble they are. If we can’t keep the hospital alive, we can’t help anyone. Don’t you see that?” she explained slowly, refusing to let the emotions get the best of her. The last thing she needed was an argument with him, another one for the books.

“It’s not okay to throw away the sole purpose for the team’s existence because you couldn’t stop and wait for us to come up with other solution. It’s not okay to decide for yourself how the team works. You may be there because you are a brilliant young doctor, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever the hell you want.” he was getting even more winded, his knee going up and back down as he struggled to not slam his hand on the desk. It was enough that he already raised his voice at her, but it would only be a matter of time before he says something he regrets.

“You’re a goddamn hypocrite! How is it that I’m an idiot when I came up with the solution for the team to stay alive, but when you threw away Naveen’s vision because you needed Nash’s help, it’s suddenly okay?” her tone rose slightly, her whole body shaking from anger and anxiety. What he was doing was wrong, and she was having none of it.

“I didn’t have a choice. You did, and you fell right into the trap that this circumstance set up for naïve weak links like you.”

In that moment, the world has stopped for a fraction for a second. He could see the exact moment in which she broke, like a twig on the ground in the forest when it’s stepped on. A loud crack in the otherwise silent and calm environment.

A lone tear shone in her eye before rolling down her cheek slowly, a mere whisper against her skin. The blow took her breath away, made her recoil, as though she had been shot. And maybe she was. Her chest hurt, like someone grabbed her lungs and squeezed, making it impossible to breathe. Barely holding onto the last sliver of her strength, she nodded, a barely visible move, then stood up and left the room, letting the door fall shut with a gently click behind her.

-----------

He regretted those words more than anything else in his life. Only once she placed the very strict and very stern barrier between them did he come to terms with the fact that he needed her. He wanted her. It felt different than when he was in the Amazon, and despite now seeing her every day, it felt like the distance was all the same again. When he left her for two months, he felt in control. It was his own decision, he was in charge of the situation, at least to some degree. Now, it was her. She built walls between them and set an entire ocean of space between those layers, just to make sure that he would never get through them.

It took him some time to realize that she was protecting herself from another blow from him. He hurt her enough times for her to have enough. When he finally connected the dots and came to the realization of what exactly he said to her, she was already out of reach from him. They were now stuck like this, for indefinite time, and he had no idea if there was a way out of this for either of them.

Long hours later, when the plane touched down, he felt some weight being lifted off his chest. They spoke a total of two times during the whole flight, both times about their patient, and both times it was a stiff and empty conversation.

You should be happy, Ramsey. Just like you wanted.

The hot, humid air hit him as soon as he took a step outside the plane, and he immediately regretted his choice of clothing. It crossed his mind to lose the sweater, but he found his thoughts freezing and then instantly flying out the window when he turned towards Claire, just in time to see her taking her shirt off. He choked on air, being acutely aware of how the tank top she had underneath hugged her body. When she folded the shirt and hid it in her bag, she ran her fingers through her hair to tame it a bit, and it was at that moment that she chose to look at him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was staring, and that alone earned him a scoff from her.

“What are you looking at, Dr. Ramsey?” she asked, putting her sunglasses on and walking past him, not bothering to check if he was following her.

Yes, a long week ahead of them indeed.

--------

The road from the airport to the marina went without a hitch. Ethan was surprised to find out that she actually knew a bit of Filipino, so she could talk to their driver, even though most of their conversation was spoken in English.

It always fascinated him, how much he still didn’t know about her. There were so many layers to who she was, and even if he spent the rest of his life uncovering them, he wouldn’t discover everything. She was so open to people, so warm and welcoming, drawing them to her with just the way her smile warmed up the room she was in. It’s one of the things that made him fall for her, so hard and fast that he didn’t even feel when or how it happened.

He observed her as they got onto the boat. How her hair shined under the sun, how she gesticulated vividly while speaking to their Capitan, laughing at something he muttered in the language Ethan didn’t understand. He remained silent, focusing on the lines on his hands, the turmoil in his head getting louder. A shadow passed his skin and the bench he was sitting on suddenly bent under additional weight as she sat down next to him.

“Do we know anything about the patient? Who are they even?” she asked softly, gazing over her shoulders, locking her eyes on the rays of sunshine that sparkled on the surface of the water. Ethan’s line of sight, however, found its place on the side of her face, where it remained until she looked back at him.

It was a rare moment for him, when she allowed him to look into her eyes. The underlying pain, the sadness so powerful that it felt like a kick to his chest, and unspoken question of Is that really what you think of me? that he could almost hear her ask, breathlessly, barely above a whisper.

“His name is Andres Blanco, he’s 47. Used to live in Spain, then decided to move here with his wife. I don’t have any information about his condition though, so that remains to be seen.” He recited, knowing all the details by heart by now. He’s read the file he was given by Naveen more times than he could count, just so that he could distract himself from thinking of yet another way he could get Claire to talk to him.

“I can see why he moved. It’s such a peaceful place.” She mused, leaning over the side of the boat to dip her hand into the water. Her hair flew forward covering her face almost entirely, the tips getting darker as they got wet.

“Do you see yourself living here?” he remembered her asking him a very similar question when they were on a home visit a few weeks back. His answer didn’t change, but he never found out her opinion.

“I almost moved here. Five years ago.” Her reply was met with wide eyes, which in turn made her grin. “I decided to stay in The States, go for my medical degree.”

“I think you would fit in here nicely. It has just enough quietness to balance out the craziness of life.” he pointed out and for the first time in weeks, he saw her smiling. Dimples created a stark contrast with her otherwise sunlit skin, making his gaze stray from her eyes for just a moment.

An island came into the view, causing silence to once again fall between them. It felt different though, a tone lighter, made it easier to breathe. It gave him a glimmer of hope, maybe they were not doomed after all. She did leave his side in haste, but the coldness on her face wasn’t as biting as it once was.

A young woman was waiting for them on the shore, smiling brightly as she waited for them to approach her. The very second Claire was in her proximity, her arms went around her neck in an overly enthusiastic hug, but it seemed as though Claire was expecting it, for she reciprocated the gesture in kind.

“It’s so good to finally have you here! Mr. Blanco was awaiting your arrival. Please, come this way.” She nodded her head slightly, then led them inside the house. Ethan hurried after the two of them, touching Claire’s elbow gently to get her attention. To his surprise, she didn’t jerk away from him.

“Are all people so…”

“Happy?” she suggested, grinning at his evident discomfort, watching how his eyes narrowed at her, making her grin even wider. “Most people here are. I’d say you’re going to get used to it, but I know you long enough to know that it’s not true.”

“So, what do you propose I do?” he ran his fingers through his hair, breathing out heavily. She patted his shoulder briefly in return.

“Deal with it.”

He still wasn’t used to her being so detached from him, so indifferent to everything he was doing. Of course, he had no way of knowing if she was truly over him, or if she was only pretending, but in that moment, he could only go on what was in front of him. And all he saw was her indifferent demeanor, with rare moments in which he could see glimpses of how she really felt.

The inside of the house provided much needed shade and protection from the sun, along with the pleasant sensation of coolness. In the grand living room, he spotted a pair, fully focused on the game of chess between them. A man looked up when he heard them walk in and smiled widely.

“Ah! Doctors, I assume? Please, come on in, have a seat. Would you like some iced coffee? Are you hungry?” he stood up slowly and approached them, greeting Claire first, then Ethan. “Paula, if you would be so kind to-“

“Please, Mr. Blanco, it’s quite alright. All that can wait, we’d much rather get started if that’s okay with you.” Ethan interrupted, aware of how rude it might sound. A warm touch on his arm stopped him from saying anything else.

“What Dr. Ramsey meant is that we would love to, but it all can be done in the meantime. If you could clue us into your symptoms? Where did they start?” Claire smiled, speaking softly and quietly, handling the situation far better than he did. He was grateful that she did get his point across without sounding stiff, and the fact that Andres immediately nodded and complied with her wish only made him appreciate her more.

They found out that his wife’s name was Carla and that it was her who reached out to them. His symptoms didn’t point towards anything specific, exactly how they expected it to be. After taking samples to run some tests, they decided to retreat to their rooms for the afternoon, giving their patient some space.

“So, what do you think is wrong with him?” he asked when they were alone in the hallway, hoping not so silently that she would actually talk to him. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath, drilling holes into the floor with her gaze.

“I don’t know. Let’s wait for the test results and then we’ll pick up this conversation.”

And with that, she disappeared behind the door to her room. A sinking feeling in his stomach got worse every time she did that, but he couldn’t really blame her. Ever since the argument in his office, their relationship was practically nonexistent, and he had no one else but himself to blame. She refused to let him talk, and he refused to run after her like a kicked puppy. Both too stubborn to resolve the situation.

--------

The evening air brought a gentle breeze from the ocean, making trees around the house whisper softly as their leaves moved. They were seated on the patio, lit by candles and lit torches that lined the way to the beach. Food was already gone from the table, only glasses of wine left. Claire fell into an easy routine, insisting that Paula joined them, noticing how Carla called her ‘Paulita’ with a voice full of fondness. The three women found the common ground almost immediately, getting lost deeper and deeper in their exchange. Meanwhile, Ethan and Andres watched them, the latter with a smile on his face, and the former with an unreadable expression.

The last rays of sunshine left the sky, prompting them to finish their gathering and head to beds. Claire excused herself, heading for the beach without looking back. It took only a fraction of a second for Ethan to decide to follow her, his feet carrying him after her, his lips curling around her name.

She couldn’t say she expected him to follow her. Truth be told, her initial intention was to get away from him so she could get some perspective on the situation, but that thought flew out of her head almost as quickly as it entered it. She’s had plenty of time to go over their last real conversation, over and over again, in great detail. She could quote it, line for line, complete with his tone and facial expressions.

Up until now, she didn’t want to face him. But now, she was ready to finish it.

They both came to a slow stop right at the edge of the water, the waves brushing against the tips of their feet slightly. She was looking ahead at the horizon. He was looking at her, unable to remember what words even were or what language could he speak. In the soft light of the moon, she looked even more radiant than in the full sun, the slightly tanned skin of hers creating a contrast in the white light during the night.

“I’ve been here before. Philippines, I mean. During high school, an exchange program. A very different time, a very different Claire, but the water feels the same. The stars look the same.” She mused, drawing a shape with the tip of her toe, watching as the waves dissolved it. “What an easy time that was.”

“Claire… I… “ he stuttered, unable to even form a coherent sentence. He could feel his breathing get elevated and his emotions flying high. Like never before, he wanted to say the right thing, he wanted that goddamn impasse to be over, but he was aware of how badly he screwed up. A simple ‘sorry’ just wasn’t enough, not this time.

“Look, I don’t want you apologizing to me. For the past month I was brewing in this state of self-loathing because with each day that passed, I realized that you may be right. That being said, I’m not sorry about my decision, and I’m not going to apologize for what I did. I’m hotheaded, I act before I think and it’s going to get me in trouble more times than save my ass, but it’s just who I am. I can’t exactly change that.” She shrugged, then looked up at him. His eyes were staring straight through her, morphing from nothingness, to a sliver of panic, to understanding.

She continued after a moment, letting out a breathless laughter, like she was relieved. “The moment I realized that, I understood what I wanted. What I needed.” Her hand went up, about to touch him, and then fell back against her side. “I need you to hold me so tight that I lose the sense of time or let me go. Keep me close or let me walk away. I’m tired of not knowing what ground I’m standing on, always feeling like I’m about to be swallowed whole. I need stability, Ethan. I need security, one way or another.”

The silence was something both of them were used to, allowing her words to ring between them before setting in properly. He was stunned, his throat closed, and he couldn’t speak if her tried. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, and yet, when he opened his mouth, no sound would come out. She understood that, knowing the feeling all too well, so she bid him goodnight, leaving him with a lasting image of her fleeting smile in the moonlight.

-------

The next morning, she greeted him at breakfast with an easy smile. There was no trace of tension in her posture, not even a hint of uncomfortableness whatsoever. Calling out to ‘Paulita’, she jumped in to help her with setting the table, leaving him to his thoughts.

She seemed okay. Definitely better than she was the night before. Miles above the pit she seemed to be treading above for several weeks. He was happy for her; how could he not be? It was his words that hurt her, it was him that made her cry, the sight of it burned into his memory.

Their conversation from the night before hadn’t left his mind for even a second. She made him face the hard truth. His anger may have been directed at her, but the real issue was the feeling of helplessness in the situation they were facing. As much as he would want to lie and say that the way she handled the problem was the source of his sour mood, he had to admit that her going behind his back hurt him more. His morals didn’t match the reality, amplifying his temper and blowing everything out of proportion.

She wasn’t a weak link. Of course she wasn’t, she was one of the strongest, and he knew it damn well. But at that point, it didn’t matter what he knew and didn’t know, because all she knew was that he considered her a liability.

His line of thought was interrupted by everyone gathering for breakfast, making him point his attention to the problem of Andres’s condition. Ethan’s eyes strayed from his plate to Claire only once, noticing how the air around them seemed lighter. He felt like he could breathe again, and chances were that it would only get better from that point on.

----------

It must have been four in the morning, but it didn’t really matter. They all stayed up until ten pm to solve the case, and it paid off. Celebratory champagne was opened, and music began flowing in the air, furniture got pushed to the sides of the room to make space for dancing. Ethan remained seated, watching how everyone around him threw all the reservations aside and just relaxed. He was never much of a dancer, not that he couldn’t, he just didn’t feel the need to.

Someone stood before him, casting a shadow upon him, prompting him to look up. Claire’s eyes sparkled with happiness, champagne and so much life in them, making him want to jump up and scream at the top of his lungs. She extended her hand towards him, wiggling her fingers invitingly.

“Come on, dance with me.” she said, pulling him up with surprising strength when he placed his palm in hers. He stumbled, catching himself onto her for support, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

It might have been alcohol that made him twirl her with such enthusiasm. It might have been the fever from the high temperature that made him dip her onto the floor, only to pull her back into his arms and back out again. It might have been the music she sang along to, the utter happiness on her face that made him smile too.

As fast as she pulled him onto the dancefloor, she was gone, giggling when Paula twirled around her, jumping to the beat of the song. He sat back down, taking a sip of his drink, watching the world around him go by.

It was now hours later, the sun was beginning to rise again. He should be sleeping, but the turmoil in his mind makes it impossible to even close his eyes.

There used to be a time when he would wake up early to watch the sunrise. Much like it was now, the tranquility of the world at such a young hour of the day filling him to the brim. No one else was around, he was alone with himself. It felt comforting and empty at the same time, the contradicting feelings causing waves to roll through his head.

But he wasn’t the only person up as it turned out. In a long, white dress, flowing in the breeze, stood Claire. Her feet in the water, the edges of the material wet from the contact with the liquid. She seemed lost in thoughts, swaying from side to side gently to some tune.

His feet carried him to her side, standing next to her wordlessly. They watched the sun go up, changing the sky, creating lines and shadows on their faces. In that moment, he was ready to swear that he’s never seen a more beautiful scenery before in his entire life.

The ocean was warm against his skin, his toes sinking into the wet sand slightly, providing just enough stability to help him ground himself in the situation. No words were needed, at least not now. For once, the silence was comforting, not filled with rage, loathing and regrets, but instead with comfort and security.

Suddenly, she took a step forward, then another, getting deeper into the water, her dress clinging to her body more and more. She stopped when half of her body was gone from his view, her head falling back slowly, shoulders moving up and down as she took a deep breath. He followed her, reaching for her hand with his, their fingers brushing against each other.

Eventually, she turned her head to look at him, her face blank of any emotions. His other hand brushed against her cheek, a look of wonder taking over his features.

“I’m an idiot.” He muttered, still focused on her eyes. An amused smirk appeared on her lips.

“You are. And you are welcome for the honesty too.” She added, making him laugh breathlessly.

“I mean it, really. I’ve been carrying this guilt and anger with me for such a long time, and I realized that it’s not you I’m angry at. It’s not your actions that made me say all those reckless words. It was my own cowardice.” Ethan admitted, anxious about her reaction. Her eyebrow shot up, an even combination of pensiveness and curiosity now present on her face.

“What cowardice?”

“I wasn’t brave enough to do what the team needed me to do. What you did. I wasn’t brave enough to admit that you were right. I wanted to hurt you, push you away, as far as I could, so I wouldn’t have to look at you every day and be reminded of the biggest act of cowardice I’ve ever committed.”

This was the moment in which he cuts himself open and lets her see him for who he really was. He suspected that she already knew it all, after all, she knew him better than anyone else. At times, it felt as though she could see right through him.

“I wasn’t brave enough to admit that I never wanted to let you go. I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want space, I don’t want time.” He stepped closer to her, moving his hand to the small of her back, pulling her just a bit closer to him. “I want to get lost in you, hold you so tight that the rest of the world disappears. It usually does, when I’m with you. I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole, you have every right not to believe a word I say but… I want you close”

She looked up at him without saying anything, prolonging his torture even more. They both knew it. And then, something in her face changed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him downwards, making them both fall into the water. Her laughter rang in his ears, then got quickly cut off as she dove beneath the surface and swam away from him.

He chased after her, getting them both closer to the shore so they both could reach the ground with their feet. Claire wrapped her arms around him tightly, bringing their faces together. Right before their lips met, she managed to whisper.

“Don’t let me go.”

The kiss was like a breath of fresh air, filling him up and reaching every far end of his whole being. The intensity hit them both, making them stumble and fall to the ground, her hands gripping his hair as she laid on top of him. The waves crashed against them, soaking them to the last thread, but neither seemed to notice nor mind. He hummed quietly, letting himself get swept by the force of her influence on him, his grip on her sides tightening slightly.

Flipping them over, he wrapped one arm around her to keep her close, bracing himself above the ground with the other. She broke the kiss and leaned away, watching him with attentive gaze. His hair was dripping, droplets falling onto his skin and lips. Feeling playful, she dove forward and licked the water away, then bit his lower lip and pulled on it, eliciting a growl from him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re trying to seduce me.” he muttered into her ear, grazing the side of her neck with his nose. A shiver ran down her spine as she shook her head.

“Wherever would you get that idea. I was watching the sunrise, it was you who attacked me.” giggling, she detangled herself from his grip. A rush of panic rose in his chest, wondering if he read the situation incorrectly. She stood over him, hands on her hips, looking at the horizon again. “So… are you going to continue or…?”

The look on his face must have been a work of art. All the insecurity evaporated, and he couldn’t stand up fast enough. Once she was close enough for him to embrace her, he gathered her in his arms and threw her over his shoulder, a surprised gasp escaping her lips.

“You think we can make it back to the house without flooding the floor?” he asked, laughter coloring his voice. She drummed her palms against his back, pondering upon his question for a short while.

“Only one way to find out.”

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