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gumnut-logic · 3 years ago

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I know I’ve posted this one before, but what the hell. It’s Johnny and one of my favs :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #sorry

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scarletdawnxx-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Bucky Barnes x Reader One Shot

A/N: Hello All! I was recently inspired to start writing again. This is my first reader insert. Thought I would give it a try. Music is a big muse for my writing so a lot of my stuff will feature, be inspired by a song, or both. This is based on Wish you were gay by Bilie Eillish. Hope you enjoy! 18+ Mature Content.

You panted as you calculated your next move. You knew Bucky was a master assassin and a super solider, but you didn’t expect him to go so hard on you just sparing together. You could barely think about your next before he was coming at you again. You had tangled with both Nat and Steve before and were pretty well able to handle yourself, but Bucky kept coming at you with relentless aggression, and you wondered who had pissed in his cheerios that morning.

You dodged another right hook and tried to sweep his legs from under him only for him to jump out of the way and come up behind you and put you in a head lock. You used all your force to rear up and flip him over onto his back on the mat. You felt some satisfaction thinking you may have finally got the upper hand, but he was up quickly and hit you square in the chest sending you toward the wall of the gym that made hard contact with your back nearly knocking the wind out of you. Bucky then pulled a small knife from his back and threw it directly at you landing right next to your head. You looked over at it stunned before looking back to Bucky.

“What the hell Barnes, weapons really? What is your problem?” You asked shocked that he would take a simple training session so far. You pushed yourself off the wall giving yourself a little momentum going in to kick him in the gut, anger swelling inside of you, but he caught your foot flipping you down onto the mat. You had thought you were finally getting through to him and building at least somewhat of a friendship. You couldn’t deny that you wished it was more, but he blew so hot and cold you never knew which way was up with him.

“My problem is you are sloppy and let your guard down to easily, you get comfortable and that will get you or a team mate killed.” He said aggressively pointing a finger in your face . You just looked at him appalled that he would think you would ever put a member of the team at risk.

“I think we are done for the day,” Nat said. Steve, Nat, and Sam had all gathered to watch as yours and Buckys training session had turned from a simple sparing match to and almost drag out straight fight.

“I agree,” you said getting up and pushing past Bucky heading to your room.

“You know she could have you on your ass in a second if she really wanted to,” you heard Steve say. It was true, you never wanted to rely on your secret weapon, this power that was inside of you. You still didn’t understand it yourself, it scared you. It was one of the deals you made with the team when you joined. It would only ever be if there was no other option. Most everyone outside the core group thought you were just a skilled fighter and spy like Natasha, skilled with a computer and combat first aid. You could stitch up just about any wound in the middle of combat if you need to. You would sometimes help Tony or Bruce in the lab tinkering here and there. You and Bruce had a quiet understanding with each other. Each having something inside of you that you didn’t quite understand and that you tried to keep at bay. You two could quietly sit together for hours. It helped knowing that there was someone like you on the team.

Bucky had joined after you, so he wasn’t privy to that personal info. You made your way back to your room and turned your shower on. You were covered in sweat and your nerves were a little on edge after having a knife throw at your head. Any other time Bucky knife skills would have been a turn on. Watching that man fight should be illegal for the things it did to you, though being on the receiving end of a sharp projectile coming towards your head was another matter all together.

You peeled off your training gear and slipped under the hot water letting it wash over you and clear away the day. Your mind and shoulders began to relax as the water ran over you. You leaned your head against the wall feeling the cool tile on your forehead, with the warmth of the water on your back it helped to center your thoughts. You kicked yourself for having, what can only be described as a crush, on the one team member who was the most closed off. You all had trauma, it almost seemed like trauma was a requirement to be an Avenger, but Bucky closed himself off from everyone, well except Steve. Maybe he was gay, you mused to yourself. You wished he was gay. That would make things easier.

You finished up your shower, wrapped yourself up in a towel and fell on to your bed exhausted. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. What time is it?” You asked. “Three in the afternoon Ms.Y/L/N. A reminder that Mr. Stark is throwing Captain Rogers birthday party tonight, your dress has been pressed and placed in your closet.” the A.I. replied. You groaned remembering the party. Why Stark had insisted on a 40’s themed party was beyond you, but he loved any excuse to through a party. You decided to get a little nap in. Determined you were going to enjoy the evening despite the days events.

You awoke up feeling refreshed, grabbed a bite from the kitchen to take back to you room and started getting ready for the party. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Play some Glen Miller for me.” You said to get yourself in the mood for the party. There was something about 40’s music you loved and you found yourself excited at the idea of putting on some vintage glam. You were just about finished getting ready when a knock rapped at your door.

“Come on in,” you called from your bathroom thinking it was Nat dropping by to head to the party together. You came out of the bathroom fiddling with your earring and not looking up. “Thank goodness you are here Nat, i need help with this dress.” When you heard a deep cough you looked towards your door and saw Bucky standing there in a 40’s military uniform. Damn did he look good. He has cut his long hair short again and with it styled he looked more handsome than ever. You stood stunned for a brief moment in nothing but your undergarments and heels. Knowing you looked amazing and not wanting to let him get the best of you, you stood confidently and asked what he wanted. He stammered and turned around to not look you.

“I just....um....sorry....I didn’t mean to....do you wanna maybe put a robe on or something?” You rolled you eyes and walked to your bed to pick up your dress and slid it on.

“It’s safe to turn around now, “ You told him. “And since you are here be helpful and zip me up?” You tuned your back to him facing the mirror in your room. You saw him come up behind you. His metal arm resting on your hip, you could feel the coolness through you dress and it made you shiver slightly and you hoped Bucky didn’t notice. As he zipped your dress you could feel his knuckles graze your back and your breath caught in your lungs. This wasn’t the first time Bucky had touched you, shit he had just beat the shit out of you a few hours ago, but this felt more intimate. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and his fingers slide across the back or your neck and down your shoulder. You stared in the mirror watching him the whole time, you could have sworn you saw him smell your hair and once again you were very confused on where you stood with his man. His blue eyes locked on yours in the mirror and you thought for a brief moment you could see desire in his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to turn around and grab the collar of his jacket and pull him into a deep kiss, forget the party and stay in your room with him the whole night. Before you could act on it he backed away from you.

“What was it you needed,” you asked annoyed. This man somehow made you want him so bad, but at the same time punch his smug face.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier, the knife was uncalled for.” He said straightens himself up.

“It was a little aggressive, why are you the hardest on me?” You asked him.

“I’m hard on everyone.” He stated simply. You rolled your eyes, he wasn’t gonna give you the answers you wanted so what was the point of pressing. “Glenn Miller?” He asked pointing up motioning to the music.

“What can I say, I like old things,” you said in a somewhat flirty tone. “Was that all you needed Barnes?” You asked looking at him with a small head tilt.

“Uh...Yeah, Ill see you at the party.” Bucky said rubbing the back of his neck and heading to the door. “You look beautiful by the way, the guys would have been painting you on the side of their planes during the war.” He said with a small smile as he waked out just as Nat was walking in.

“What was that about?” She asked. “Nothing, ready to head down?” You asked checking yourself over once more.

You head down to the large two story “entertaining space” as Stark like to call it. The band was in full swing and you could hear laughter and conversation filling the room. Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter you and Nat joined the crowd saying your hellos on the way. You saw Steve, Sam, and Bucky gathered around the pool table. Laughing and drinking, all in vintage Military uniforms and you silently thanked Tony for making this a themed party because boy did those men look good.

“How is the birthday boy,” you said greeting Steve with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Having some serious deja vu,” he laughed.

“Well that’s what happens when your 97 years old,” you teased. “You boys want to play with someone who actually knows what they are doing?” You asked taking Steve’s pool que.

“Be my guest,” Steve said with a smile putting his hands up and backing away slightly.

“Wanna make it more interesting with a bet?” Sam asked.

“Always,“ you responded leaning across the pool table towards him and Bucky with a flirty smile. “What will the odds be?” You asked as you started to rack up the balls.

“We doing teams?” Sam asked.

“Sure, you three against me? That seems like fair odds.” You stated confidently.

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be huh?” Sam asked always amused by you.

“That’s how it’s gonna be.” You said. “I win and you three have to take me for a spin on the dance floor, I don’t look like this to just sit and be pretty.”

“And what if we win?” Bucky asked finally speaking up. You laughed to yourself.

“Whatever you boys want to think up“you said as you lined up your shot breaking the balls and sinking 5 right away. “I’ll take solids.” You said as you lined up your next shot sinking three more balls before the guys even got a chance. They just stood in awe of you.

“I feel like we have been tricked,” Sam said as he lined his shot up only sinking one ball before missing a shot. You knew they never stood a chance against you. Years of hanging in a bar with your alcoholic father had given you more practice than you would ever need. You enjoyed this though. Hanging with the guys and laughing as you made easy work of the pool table. “Eight ball left top corner, “ you said leaning over the pool to line up you last shot, you glanced over your shoulder to see that Bucky was checking you out. “Like what you see soldier?” You asked as you sank the eight ball with no trouble. You turned around to see Bucky slightly blushing and trying to avoid eye contact with you as Sam teased him slightly.

“Well boys i think we have been had,” Steve said offering his arm to you. “Care for a dance?” He asked.

“Absolutely old man,” you said and let him lead you to the dance floor. The music was lively as Steve spun you around the dance floor. You can’t remember the last time you were having this much fun, not just yourself, but the group as a whole. The superhero business didn’t exactly lend itself well to normalcy. No going out with friends or really having normal lives at all. Any attachments where a liability and a possible target for anyone trying to get to you. You were lucky you didn’t really have any family to speak of anymore. Except you guess the people around you now and you were thankful for them. You made your way over to the bar after dancing with Steve, grabbing your favorite cocktail you started to make your way around the room, saying hellos here and there and making small talk with some of the other guest. Rhodey telling one of his War Machines stories that you had heard ten times before but the locals always found them amusing. Tony and Bruce having a debate over something. Nat, Clint, and Agent Hill, enjoying their drinks and laughing. You assumed about one of Clints kids since he was showing pictures on his phone. You smiled to yourself as you continue to scan the room, your eyes eventually landing on Bucky. He was staring at you from across the room as he sipped a bourbon. He had a not so amused look on his face, but a hand wrapping around your backside pulled your attention away as some random, fairly drunk man tried to ask you to dance. You politely declined, removing his hand from your body and walking away. Bucky you noticed had disappeared from his previous spot. You found Wanda and Vision cozied up together and sought familiar faces in hopes the man got the idea and left you be.

“Y/N you have been getting quite the attention tonight,” Wanda commented as you perched yourself on the arm of the chair opposite them. You blushed and smiled.

“Not from anyone that matters,” you joked, or at least you hoped it came across as a joke. You knew who you really wanted attention from.

“Heard training got a little intense today, but you seem to have recovered,” Vision commented.

“A little misunderstanding.” You said.

“ I’ve come to uphold my end of the wager,” Sam said offering his hand to you. You finished your drink and placed it on the tray of a passing server and let Sam led you to the dance floor. “So how many men did you swindle out of some pocket change with your impressive pool skills?” Sam asked over the music.

“My fair share.” You smiled remembering how you use to hustle men out of their money to get by. You had been on your own since you were 17 and only had so many skills at the time.

“You could have warned us,” Sam joked with you.

“You never asked, and where would the fun be in that anyway.”

“Steve knew didn’t he?” Sam asked.

You laughed and nodded. Steve had found you once playing by yourself on a night you couldn’t sleep. You had just gotten back from a particular grueling mission and were having a hard time readjusting. It became a small tradition for you guys after that night. After every mission, once everyone had settled back in, you and Steve would find yourself around the pool, play a few rounds. He would tell you stories of growing up, you never much opened up about your past, mostly just kept asking him question to keep the topic of conversation squarely on him. Steve was the big brother you wished you had growing.

The night continued on, you had a few more drinks, a few more dances, and were really starting to feel relaxed and happy, your face almost hurting from all the smiling you had been doing. Steve and Sam were swapping stories with some old WWII vets, the other core members of the group had started to gather closer together. You were surprised to see that Thor had stopped by. He wasn’t on earth often. He tipped his drink in your direction as you leaned against the bar, content in people watching. You smiled and returned the gesture. He motioned to the small flask in his hand and back at you and you laughed and shook your head no. Never had you had such a bad hang over as when you trusted him with a drink. You felt a cold hand touch your arm and turned, a little to quickly for how many drinks you had had, and lost your balance slightly. Luckily Bucky had such quick reflexes to catch you before you made a fool of yourself. You were pressed very close to him his face nears yours.

“Guess I’m the last one who hasn’t held their end of the bargain yet.”

“I didn’t think you were ever going to” you said coolly.

“A deal is a deal right.” You nodded and made your way to the dance floor, where the music had been more up beat when you danced with Steve and Sam, a slower song began to play. Bucky pulled you in close, his vibranium arm wrapped around your waist as he took your right hand in his. You were so close you could swear you felt his heart beat. He smelled so wonderful, warm and welcoming, a smell that made you feel safe and tingle all over. You swayed along to the music in comfortable silence, looking up at him you noticed he had been staring at you. You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. You could stare into them for the rest of your life and not feel like it was long enough. You were mentally kicking yourself for having these feelings for someone you were sure didn’t feel the same way about you. But as you stared into his eyes you thought again you saw desire there, your faces just a breath away, it wouldn’t take much to reach up and kiss him. You thought he may have been thinking the same thing. That was until the song ended and he quickly let you go and walked away without another word leaving you in the middle of the dance floor alone and confused.

“Well that was interesting” Nat said coming up behind, startling you.

“Damn it, Nat don’t do that.” You scolded her.

“I thought he was going to kiss you for a minute.” She mused as you walked over to join the rest of the group of avengers that had gathered.

“Right, after he nearly killed me this afternoon.” You joked back with her.

“He is a hard one to read, I’ll give you that.” She handed you a drink and you took it.

“Do you think there is something going on between him and Steve?” You asked which caused her to almost spit her drink out from laughter.

“If Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are gay then I’m the Queen of England,” Nat responded laughing and shaking her head.

“Well they are just so close and I never see any of them with women,” you continued quietly with her so the others didn’t overhear.

“I can assure you Steve is not gay,” and she sipped her drink giving you a sly smile.

“Natasha Romanoff are you sleeping with Captain America?” You asked in fake shock.

She gave you a wink and smiled. Good for them, you thought. If Steve had a best friend other than Bucky it was Nat.

“What are you two conspiring about over there?” Tony asked pulling your attention back to the group.

“Nothing,” you both responded at the same time causing the group to laugh.

“Well Rogers, did I throw you a great party or what?” Tony gloated

“I have to admit, tonight was much needed.” Steve allowed Tony some small satisfaction. The evening had been much needed. Somehow the conversation turned to odd talents that the group had, other than what they brought to the team. Sam talked about his excellent cooking skills, Nat could play the piano, Vision had learned some magic tricks which you found amusing.

“I already know Y/N secret talent, she is a pool shark, girl is a seriously hustler” Sam said.

“Actually that isn’t my only talent. I used to sing, way back when.” You told the group.

“Oh I have got to hear this then,” Tony said getting up.

“No Tony, really, I haven’t sang in front of a large group in years.” You pleaded.

“Oh come on, live a little,” Nat nudged you and the others agreed. You sighed looking at the group in front of you. Again your eyes found Bucky. They seemed to always be searching Bucky out. Again he was at a distance, sipping his drink. Some girl gabbing away at him but his eyes were on you. It riled something up inside of you and you stood.

“Alright, you guys better enjoy this,” you said.

“Excellent,” Tony exclaimed rubbing his handing together and walking you to the stage. “Ok everyone listen up. We have a treat for you this evening. A singing Avenger. Not to be confused with a singing telegram. So everyone give it up for Y/N”. The room clapped as Tony made his way off stage. You talked to the band leader and they know the song you wanted to do.

"Baby, I don't feel so good", six words you never understood "I'll never let you go", five words you'll never say

You began to sing your body moving with the beat of the music.

I laugh along like nothing's wrong, four days has never felt so long If three's a crowd and two was us, one slipped away I just wanna make you feel okay

You looked straight at Bucky

But all you do is look the other way I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay I just kinda wish you were gay Is there a reason we're not through? Is there a 12-step just for you? Our conversation's all in blue 11 "heys" (Hey, hey, hey, hey) Ten fingers tearin' out my hair Nine times, you never made it there I ate alone at seven, you were six minutes away

You were really starting to enjoy yourself and had forgotten how much you liked to perform.

How am I supposed to make you feel okay When all you do is walk the other way? I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay

You motioned for the crowd to join you on the next line

I just kinda wish you were gay

And they all joined except Bucky who stared at you with an equally amused and annoyed look on his face.

To spare my pride To give your lack of interest, an explanation Don't say I'm not your type Just say that I'm not your preferred sexual orientation I'm so selfish But you make me feel helpless, yeah And I can't stand another day Stand another day I just wanna make you feel okay But all you do is look the other way, hmm I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay I just kinda wish you were gay I just kinda wish you were gay I just kinda wish you were gay

You finished the song to loud applause and raised your glass in a silent toast with a smug grin on your face.

“Alright everyone, give it up for Y/N. And I would just like to say if being an Avenger doesn’t work out, you will certainly have a career in entertainment and I will take full credit for your discovery.” Tony said. “I would like to thank everyone for coming out to Captain Rogers birthday party. You all look amazing, please continue to enjoy the open bar and music and don’t forget to tip.” Tony finished before the band continued to play on. The group greeted you with another round of applause and cheers.

“Thank you, thank you,” you said giving a small curtsy. “I think I will end the evening on a high note and turn in.” The group protested but you were very ready to head back to you bed, the endorphins wearing off. You made you way back down to your room, the halls dark and quite, a vast difference from the party going on 5 floors above you.

“That was quite the performance,” a voice whispered in your ear and your fight instincts kicked in and you grabbed the head of whoever was behind you, flipping them over you and on to their back, and placing a heeled foot on their chest, ready to fight.

“Jesus, Barnes, do you have a death wish.” You asked seeing the shocked face of Bucky looking up at you from the ground. You stepped back and helped him up.

“Where did that strength come from,” he asked dusting himself off. You just shrugged. The power inside you had just swelled, and you cursed yourself for not having more control over it.

“Maybe don’t sneak up on a person in the dark,” You fired back at him going to walk around him towards your door when he grabbed your arm stopping you.

You looked from his arm to him, an eyebrow raised on your face. He stepped closer to you, wrapping your waist with his metal arm pulling you in and pressing your body against his. It all happened so fast you barely had time to realize his lips crashing into yours. He dropped your arm wrapping you fully in his as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue across you lip, urging you mouth to open. Your arm ran up his chest feeling his muscles under your fingers. They made their way to his hair and you buried your fingers in it, your mouth welcoming him. Your heart pounding in your chest and a warmth spreading over your body. He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him not breaking your kiss. He pushed you against the door to your room, dropped an arm fiddling with the door handle to get it open. It finally sprung open and Bucky carried you inside, closing the door with his foot. He placed you back down on your feet, still kissing you as he got rid of his jacket, and shoes. Your fingers started to undo the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders exposing his bare chest to you. You allowed yourself moment to take him in and began to kiss down his neck to his chest, your fingers exploring his torso. His warm skin, running across the scars where his arm had been replaced. You placed light kisses over them, thinking maybe you could kiss away the pain he had endured all those years. You took his left hand in yours and brought it up and placed a small kiss on the palm of his hand while looking him in the eyes, there way so much behind them, longing, sadness, and something primal that made you weak in the knees. His hand snaked behind your neck and pulled you in for another deep kiss. This one was not as urgent, it was tender, it told you more about the man standing in front of you than any conversation ever could. He poured all of himself into that kiss, the boy Steve knew growing up, the soldier that was captured and tortured, the broken man that had been on the run and alone, and now the man that had found a family and a home again. A man still struggling every day to find himself again. He pulled back from you and looked in your eyes asking for permission. You gave him a small nod and turned around. He unzipped your dress and it fell to the floor. His hands roamed up your body feeling your curves as he kissed your neck, a hand slipping into your bra and tugging at your nipple sending a shock wave straight to your already wet folds as you let out a gentle moan. You turned around and laid yourself back on the bed and Bucky took you in never wanting anything more in his whole life. He made quick work of removing his pants before crawling on top of you and capturing your mouth in another passionate kiss. His body felt so good and right on top of yours. His hand slipped behind your back undoing your bra and helping you to toss it to the side as he took a breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling around and teasing your nipple. You could feel the scuff of his five o’clock shadow against the softness of your skin and your whole body was on fire for this man. His free hand traveled down your body and slipped into your panties. Running a finger through your wet folds. You hadn’t been touched like this is so long, you arched into his hand, and moaned. He kissed you again as his finger continued to explore, his thumb slipping over your clit as he slide a finger inside of you and then another. You were coming undone quickly. He took his time drawing his fingers in and out of you, your body matching the rhythm of his movements. You could feel an orgasm building, the intense feeling almost to much to handle. You wanted to cum so badly but not as badly as wanting to feel Bucky inside of you. You grab his arm, still his movement and he looked at you confused.

“ Do you want me to stop” he asked concerned.

“ No,” you said in a breathy manor. “ I want to feel you inside of me, I need to feel you,” you said sitting up and pushing him down onto his back. You removed the last of his clothing before removing your panties. You stroked the hard length of his cock before positioning yourself over him. You took him in slowly, enjoying each second of feeling him fill you. You could hear him moan and that alone almost sent you over the edge. You leaned down and kissed him before slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling him deep inside of you, hitting just the right spot. You continue the slow pace, taking your time. Placing your hands firmly on his chest, sitting up you continued to ride him, his hands roamed your body, one moved to your hips urging your movements, the other massaging your breast and tugging on your nipple. You orgasm building anew.

“ Look at me,” he said and as your eyes met his you came undone. Your orgasm hitting you, taking over your whole body. The sensation was overwhelming. Your lips crashed into his as he lifted you and rolled you on to your back, not even breaking the contact between. He held you tightly as he began to move in and out of you, his movements keeping your orgasm going. You didn’t know how much more you could take. Your nails racking across his back, feeling his muscles flex under them.

“James,please.” Escaped your lips as you felt another orgasm building. Something that had never happened to you before. Your words seemed to urge him on as his movements became faster and deeper.

“ Say it again,” he growled into your neck.

“Please,” you moaned

“No my name,” he responded kissing you.

“James,” you whispered against his lips. It didn’t take long for him to come undone inside of you setting off another intense orgasm.

You laid there, connected, breathless, heart pounding, bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat. Bucky rolled off of you, you shivered, the absence of his warmth left you open to the coolness of the night air. He pulled you in close, as he moved the bedspread to cover the two of you. Being wrapped in his arms, your lust satiated, your body relaxed in the afterglow, you felt how tired you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s ok, sleep doll.” He whispered to you. You smiled to yourself. He was definitely not gay, which he proved to you again in the morning. And many days after that.

#bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #rating: mature #marvel #avengers #romance #oneshot

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ellitx · 4 years ago

Note

Hellp i have 2 brainrots going on rn

1 is the Vamp butler venti au getting cought either feeding on you or making love to you and he gets taken away que the picture from yesterday-- you were just a bit too loud and your moans alarmed one of the nearby gaurds so the entered unannounced..

2 is a modern twin au where the both pine for you but venti ends up winning your love first so you guys sneak to his house when nb isnt home and he steals his rnb cds so he could have nice music in the bg while you make love 😳 (this one was litterally crafted from one line of song lyrics " used to steal my brothers cds, slowjams with you wet like fiji" song is reminiscing ny vedo v good if u like rnb but its v lewd)

warning: angst and NSFW under the cut

Oh god, the second brainrot is just angst for me ajkssk

You know about the situation that nameless bard is in the hospital. It’s because his sickness got worsed and venti is currently alone in his house, that’s why you went there to check up on him.

Imagine venti wants your comfort and he’s already crying so much. he’s scared of losing him and he’s scared if his twin took you before he can.

His mouth slipped that he confesses his love for you, and you’re just... quiet while he buries his face on your shoulder. He thought you might reject him, cursing himself for saying that without thinking— especially at a wrong time.

“I...” Venti shifted his gaze and lowered his head in shame as he bit his lower lip. “Forget what I said, please...”

You held his hand and clutched it tightly against yours. You love both of them, you really do, but your heart says you wanted to be with venti.

Instead of confessing back to him, you lift his hands up and kiss the tip of his fingers. You’ll pull him back for a hug and lace your fingers together. Venti doesn’t know if you like him back or not but he understands that it’s not the time for him to expect an answer from you.

The most important thing he needs is consolation.

If im gonna write something like this i’ll prolly end it here but i feel bad for just leaving it here without an angst lovemaking

Now i dont know how to transition this to a make-out session but one of the reasons why both of you did was to take off relax him from all the stresses building up within him. He’s been stressed all night from school works to the sudden collapse of his twin.

Sorry if this seems far from the ideas you’ve given but my brain just wanted an angst here ^^;

I have an alternative idea, it’s still angst lol but instead of nb in the hospital, he’s at the university completing his duties. So after finishing all of them, he then goes home wanting to take a rest on his bed. He knows you and venti are home already so when he goes upstairs, he hears gasps and stifled moans from a certain room.

He follows the source and slowly took a peek behind the door. The sight of his twin fucking you made his heart shatter to pieces. Your face was buried on the sheets to quiet your moans as Venti thrusts his hips in and out of you from behind.

His twin was panting heavily, his hands holding your hips and arm tightly as sweat began to slid down his body the more he pushes himself in your dripping cunt. You wailed and moaned, chanting his name continuously and it just increases his pacing. The way his cock was buried deep inside you was so delicious that you wanted more. You kept on begging and crying to Venti to make you cum with his dick.

Nameless bard’s lips parted, utterly speechless and in disbelief seeing you two together. He feels his eyes swelling up with tears, yet why was he crying? It’s not like you and him were in a relationship from the start.

Is it because his younger brother kept this as a secret from him? Was he expecting you’ll end up with him instead of Venti?

The more he watches, the more it hurts him. So instead, he quietly walks away and left you two alone in the house.

#anon ask #ellianswers #venti x reader #venti brainrot #elliwrites #venti angst

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deepdisireslonging · 4 years ago

Text

Chained to the Wall

The Reader and Elias are scheduled to sing together after winning the Intercontinental Title. One problem: Roman Reigns. When he threatens the Reader in more ways than one, she plans a way to retake control.

Pairing: Elias x Reader (Y/N) x Roman Reigns

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, SMUT, knife use (not fun), bondage, sub!Reader, dom!Elias, threesome (no M|M), oral (male receiving), implied further SMUT

Word Count: 2395

Note: Happy New Year! In true Lizzi fashion, this was supposed to post half an hour ago. @staff still hasn’t fixed that queing function. Anywho, here’s a fic I’ve been working on since 2019. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!

You took a second to breathe. Never in a million years, except only in your wildest dreams, could you have foreseen the moment when you would be standing in the ring. Let alone with the love of your life about to sing in front of several thousand people plus more watching at home. Your next shuddered breath caught Elias’s attention. His brows furrowed with worry.

You smiled and covered your mic. “There’s a lot of people here.”

Elias mirrored your movement and covered his mic. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. I want to sing. I want to sing with you.”

He smiled at you and gave your hand a squeeze. The camera in front of you counted down the seconds until Elias, your partner and Intercontinental Champion, would begin his intro. He moved your hand to his shoulder, ready to play.

“Hello, I am Elias.” He couldn’t help but grin at the returned greeting. “Tonight, I have a very special vocalist joining me tonight. I’ve been trying to introduce their voice to you for months… she finally said yes.”

As the spotlight widened, the arena burst into a deafening cacophony. You beamed openly, knowing full well they would be booing you in a few seconds once the song started. It took more seconds than you were expecting, but you sang above them. Your voice was strong and you felt on top of the world.

Your mic, and Elias’s, and his guitar mic cut out. While you scrambled to check the receiver at your hip, Roman Reign’s music cut through the darkness. Elias kicked his stool out of the way and stood between you and the entrance ramp.

But Roman didn’t come that way.

You were tugged back, and a fist flew past your face to collide with Elias’s chin. When the lights came up, Elias was struggling to his feet and Roman Reigns was standing between you.

Faster than you could blink, Roman’s hand was around your throat. You squeaked in shock and Elias attempted to step forward.

“I wouldn’t if I was you.” Roman ignored the boos that filled the arena with a smile. Behind him, Jey Uso and Paul Heyman stepped into the ring to be further back-up. Not that he needed it. “I don’t have to snap her neck, but it wouldn’t take much to keep her from singing again. Just a slight,” he tightened his grip, “squeeze.” He watched amused as you tried to scratch at his hand. “Claws down, baby girl.” His eyes glinted dangerously at your second of hesitation. His fingers twitched. You dropped your hands down to your sides, holding them flat against your thighs to hide their shaking. Out of mic range, but loud enough so Elias could hear, Roman chuckled. “Always so responsive.” He ignored your glare.

“What do you want Reigns?” Elias was nearly flexed out of his shirt, muscles churning with ready energy.

“I want my title back.”

“That’s not going to happen, Roman.” Despite the momentary tightened grip on your throat, you wheezed out your statement. “And you know it.”

“Ooh. Using my first name. I must be in trouble.” He spun you around to hold your back against his chest. His swell of pride pushed into your shoulder blades at Elias’s thinly veiled rage. The threatening fingers against your skin kept your silent. “I will have my title back. And it’s coming back to me… tonight.” His rumbling chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. You gasped as his grip teasingly jostled you. “In the meantime, I think Y/N can hang out with me.”

“Like hell I will.” You twisted and pushed at his chest with more courage than you felt, not that it had much of an effect. Especially when his grip flashed to the hair on the back of your head, pulling you close.

“Fine.” He gave you a mocking nod. “I don’t think I have to say it, but just in case: do not interfere, Y/N. The consequences could be… showstopping to you or your accompaniment.” He released you.

You ran to stand between him and Elias. Roman chuckled. He gave you a nod, smirking and taking a step back. “I’ll see you both later tonight. My title will be on the line, and by the time the show ends, it’ll be mine again.”

Together, you stepped to lean against the back ropes, giving plenty of room for the Tribal Chief and his court to walk by. You never took your eyes off of Roman. Buzzing electricity pulled at the base of your skull. A plan began to form.

***

The sixty-plus minutes simultaneously dragged and flew by. There were too many things to do, and not enough time to ensure their completion. But each time you checked a clock or your phone, the minutes inched by, keeping you on the razor’s edge.

You brought it with you to the ring.

Roman had made his entrance. Patiently, he waited for Elias. When you showed up instead, wearing a thigh-length skirt and an icy glare, he frowned. You made it all the way into his space before he knew he was in danger. As the knife in your hand pressed against the underside of his jaw, he let out a surprised puff of air.

“You threatened my throat earlier. It’s only right that I return the favor.” Carefully peering around him, you added, “on that note, you also threatened my partner.” He surged forward, stopped only by the blade. “Stay,” you mouthed.

Roman closed his eyes with a growl as the ring bounced. He watched the Titantron on the stage. Elias quickly dispatched Jey and Heyman. They would not be a threat to the night’s title match. You lifted the knife off with a wink. They second you were out of the ring, you caught his eye again and bent the rubber blade in a mocking curve. Roman looked at the canvas to hide his smile. It was hardly the first time you had outsmarted him, but he could plan his vengeance for you later.

As for the match, there were several times you nearly leapt into the ring. Taking away the Big Dog’s back-up had backfired. Roman Reigns had been a champion many times over under his own skill. With Spear after Spear, it looked like he would be again. Elias held up admirably. Until the Guillotine Choke was locked in. Your partner would never tap out. And you would never throw in the towel, or a scarf or gauntlet, for anything. It was up to the referee. He called for the disqualification bell after you finally ran headfirst into the Gorgon Knot of limbs. Elias was knocked free. He sputtered and coughed back into consciousness.

On jelly legs, he met you on the ramp. You shoved the Intercontinental title back into his hands.

“Thank you, Dove.” He kissed the side of your head as you helped him back up the ramp. “I’ll meet you in your dressing room after cleaning up. For your special present.”

“Don’t clean up too much.” Winking at Roman, you returned your partner’s forehead kiss. “I have a feeling that present will just get ourselves dirty again.”

***

With the knocking at your door, you primped your hair in the mirror one last time. “Come in.”

“I thought I told you to stay out of it, baby girl.”

You spun, sliding across the wall before Roman could pin you into a corner. All too soon, he loomed over you. Beating on his chest did nothing. He caught your wrists and fought them above your head. Of course they bumped into the handcuffs you’d prepped for celebrating with Elias. That earlier chill down your spine returned under Roman’s dark grin.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna have fun tonight.”

“Funny. That’s what I was going to tell her.” Elias locked the door behind him, distracting Roman long enough for you to click the cuffs around his wrists. The Drifter hugged you close when you ran to his side. Roman further tangled in the chains, following you and kicking out at Elias. “Well done, Dove.”

“What is this?” Roman snarled.

“An opportunity.” You were bubbling with excitement. Elias tightened his hold around your waist to keep you grounded.

“Did you really think my partner didn’t tell me about your little trysts back in the day?” Leaning his body forward, he brought his cheek level with yours. “I don’t blame you for taking her first. I applaud you. But now she’s with the better man.” He ignored Roman’s struggle with the cuffs. “Here’s the deal: I can let you go and we can have a little rematch, or… we can both enjoy her little… melodies.”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes drifted shut. Slowly, Elias tilted your head to the side with his nose, running it along your jawline. He maintained eye contact with Roman as he gingerly kissed your pulse-point. Your nails clamped around his wrist, dragging it to your throat. The tiny whimper that escaped your mouth made Roman’s eyes glass over.

A warm hand slid down the front of your body. The other tightened its grip on your throat. Dipping under the waistband of your jeans, Elias shimmied your pants down with your panties, baring you to Roman. At any second, Elias was ready to stop and release his rival. But Roman didn’t say anything. He was watching you. Watching your breath catch in your chest. Eyeing the sheen grow over your skin. Roman knew you were blissed out, and Elias hadn’t even started yet.

When he did start, you almost lost your footing. His fingers, well talented on his guitar, pulled through your slick. The only thing holding you up was the hand on your neck. You clawed at his jeans as sparks tingled through your nerve endings. Between your thighs you were dripping. It was running down your leg.

Roman wanted to lick it up. He settled on licking his lips instead.

Elias released your throat, sending you careening into orgasm. Before you could recover, he ripped off your shirt, and pinned you to the wall next to Roman. Both of your hands fumbled with his belt and his jeans until his cock was able to slide through your slick. He filled you slow and quickly enough to take your breath away. Tossing your head back, you bared your throat for his teeth to drag across your pulse point, reveling in the scratch of his beard on your bare skin. When you dared to open your eyes, Roman was there to fill your vision. His hair was plastered to his forehead. There was something… feral about the way his whole body leaned towards you, held back by only the cuffs on his wrists.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Elias stilled, but toyed with your clit to make you writhe on his length. “Especially when she’s so close to cumming.” To emphasize his point, he thrust roughly. You cried out his name. Roman thrust into the air. Elias worked himself to completion, taking you with him into bliss. Stepping back, he let you fall to the floor.

You landed right in front of Roman.

He couldn’t see. Not really. Not anymore. Only one thing was on his mind, and it was the same in yours.

“Please, baby girl.” Roman panted, licking his bottom lip.

A moment later, you were licking up and down his cock. Kissing the tip. And twisting the measure you couldn’t swallow with short strokes.

The wide, calloused grip of Elias pushed you further onto Roman’s length. The Tribal Chief maintained his glare for a minute. Then his eyes closed and he moaned deep in his throat. You sucked and hollowed your mouth, drinking down his length and humming and begging for a deeper taste. From your spot on your knees, you could just see his face contorted in pleasure. Pleasure that you were causing. You moved more. Faster. Desperate. Behind you, Elias still had his hand on your head, reminding you who had placed you on your knees in the first place.

With a strained roar, Roman was seconds from filling your mouth. When he strained against the cuffs, Elias yanked you off and up to your feet. He tossed you to lean against the spot where he just fucked you. Roman’s lip curled into a snarl. From his pocket, Elias pulled out the handcuff’s key. He stepped into Roman’s face, silently daring him between two options.

Your lovers glared at one another as Elias unlocked the cuffs. They jingled against the wall, empty. A second of silence glittered. Then Roman was on you, kissing you, clawing at you, instead of beating Elias to a pulp. He pounded into you, seeking the release he almost had. You were a vessel, a means to an end. And you were loving every second of it. He steadied himself against the wall, placing his mouth right next to your ear. Your skin rushed with heat to hear his sighs. The moans. And the desperate grunts as he chased your ends. For you were desperate for release too. You could hardly breathe with all the need coursing through you.

When it came, Roman shuddered and stiffened against you, pinning you tightly to the wall. You clamped your thighs around his waist, riding it out.

Elias was there to catch you when Roman rotated to lean against something sturdy. They sandwiched you between them. With your mind still spinning, you couldn’t tell who was behind or in front of you. It didn’t matter. They were both warm, and both had brought you to brilliant heights of delight.

“That went well.”

You hummed into the chest of whoever was holding you.

Roman rumbled above you. “That it did. Though I liked to fuck her until she can’t walk or-”

“I did fuck her that hard. She fell to your feet easy enough, didn’t she? Or didn’t you like her sucking your-“

Grabbing him by the beard, you tugged Elias down for a searing kiss. When you broke apart, he panted and needed a second to collect his thoughts.

“Round two back at the hotel?”

“Only if we really get to share her this time.” Roman arched an eyebrow.

They looked down at you as one.

It was going to be a long, lovely night.

***

More Roman Fics:

Such a Tease (S)

A Reflection of Us (S)

Back Hallways (AR, F, S)

Taste of Terror (S, Horror, Vamp!Roman)

More Elias Fics:

Chiffon in the Streets, Lace in the Sheets (S)

Jealous (S)

Fuck the Demon Away (A, S)

Full For A Song (S, Challenge Fic, Angel/Demon AU)

***

Masterlist

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @brianaraydean @chwehansol98 @fireflyfunhousetrash @laochbaineann @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @shieldgirl18 @tinyelfperson @writtingrose @xladyxfatex @gold--gucciempress

WWE Tags: @1dluver13xx @a-home-for-stray-stories @flightofthefantasies @livelifewondering @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirlfics @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @scuzmunkie @secretagentfangirl @wrestlersownmyheart @thirst-n-bullshit @top-1-percent-blog

Elias Tags: @mrsbreezango @ohnojustimagine @secretagentfangirl @sixdegreesofsamson @team-elias @wrestlingbabe

Roman Reigns Tags: @danielle-ferrara @imagination-of-a-fandom-slut @it-is-reigning-men @littledeadrottinghood @mybeautiful-worldrrfics @savmontreal @stylesgirluk @theangelsfightwithdevils @vanity1385

#roman reigns x reader #elias x reader #roman reigns smut #elias smut #wwe x reader #dom!roman reigns #dom!elias samson #sub!reader #wwe fanfiction #reader insert

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anninhiliation · 5 years ago

Text

Last Night

Masterlist Threeways Masterlist

Disclaimer: DON’T COPY MY WORK. YOU DON’T HAVE CONSENT TO DO SO. IF I FIND OUT YOU COPIED MY WRITING, AND ANY OF MY WRITING YOU WONT LIKE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

Being in a throuple with Zabdiel and Chris made you feel like the luckiest girl alive. On one end you had crazy adventures with Chris and on the other warm relaxing nights with Zabdiel. You always received attention, especially when you needed it the most. Even on tour one of them would always check in on you. Both would Facetime you before you drifted off to sleep every night. The relationship had a seamless flow with rare petty fights and little arguments. Usually brought on by stress and lack of sleep. But tonight was different. It was their last day in town, and you requested the usual tradition of staying in and enjoying each other company one last time. You were feeling a bit needy tonight, craving their attention and affection, already missing them dearly. But they insisted to go out, and as to not to create a fight or argument, you went along. You spent hours doing your hair and makeup, choosing the right outfit for your last night with the boys. You wanted their last night with you to be special, for them to have fun.

Everything was fine until you walked through the doors of the club. It was as if you evaporated into thin air. Chris beelined to the bar and then the dance floor, and as for Zabdiel, you had no idea where he ran off to. It wasn’t what you were expecting, it wasn’t what usually happened when you went clubbing with them. You tried your best to keep a positive attitude, and not to be difficult even though the two of them abandoning you stung. It was as if they forgot that tomorrow morning they had to go to the airport and leave you behind. You ordered yourself, your favorite drink and hung out by the bar.

Maybe they’ll come get me, you thought Maybe they just want to get tipsy first

You leaned on the wooden bar top and scanned the dance floor. You quickly spotted the tall blonde, with his back towards you dancing to the beat.

Or maybe I can go get him first you thought

Smirking you grabbed your drink and went straight towards him, sliding through sweaty bodies and swatting away grabby hands. You finally got close enough to Zabdiel and your heart sank. He was with another girl, dancing with her. His large hands wrapped perfectly around her hips as he guided her to the beat of the music. His face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, whispering something to make her smile.

This has to be a mistake you thought He wouldn’t

You were shocked, to say the least standing across from him, watching as his eyes never left her. The more you watched, trying to reason with what he was doing, the more you felt stuck in your place. But this was more than a friendly dance, more than a meaningless one time dance. You could sense the sexual tension between them and your heart began to crack, ready to fall to pieces. They looked so happy as if Zabdiel wasn’t already someone else’s. He was yours, and only yours. He told you in the past how you were the only one for him. Reassuring you again and again how he only wanted to be with you. Telling you so many times how happy you made him feel. It took you a while, but you recognized the girl, she was an influencer, her face and body were constantly displayed on Fashion Nova. Her YouTube account had over 10 million followers, and her face lit up the room. You finally spotted Chris emerging from the crowd of people and he reached over towards her. Your heart sank shattered into a million pieces.

This is no mistake you thought There is no excuse for this

She was enjoying herself, as Chris held her waist as she grinded against him. Zabdiel in front of her, cupping her face as her fingers lingered around his arms. You chugged your drink, trying to numb your pain as you walked over to them. They still had yet to notice you, as you got closer and closer. It was like they twisted a knife inside you as you watched Chris push the girl’s hair to the side, ready to plant his soft lips against her neck.

“Really?” You huffed crossing your arms as Chris froze in his spot “So is this what the two of you do when you go away on tour?”

Hurt and anger filled your emotions, as they finally noticed you.

“Ne-” Chris went to defend him and Zabdiel but you quickly cut him off

“No, I don't wanna hear it. El menos qué puedes hacer es no mentir. Té vi. Té vi a los dos.” You hissed “You know what? Whatever. The two of you are sleeping downstairs tonight.”

You strutted away, with your tears swelling up, but you refused to break down in a public place. Chris and Zabdiel called out for you, making you move faster. You just wanted to get out of the club as quickly as possible. Which you beat them to it and luckily called down a taxi before they could catch up to you. All you wanted was a moment alone, to collect yourself, collect your thoughts, and emotions. Your luck ran dry the second the taxi parked in front of the apartment complex. Chris and Zabdiel were right behind you rushing out of their taxi the second you stepped foot out of yours.

“Nena wait” Chris pleaded as Zabdiels long limbs caught up with you grabbing your wrist

“Let go!” you yelled louder than you meant for as the tears finally poured down your face

You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling like they were rubbing salt into your wound. You pulled away from Zabdiel as his jaw dropped, his facial expression expressing clear guilt as he watched you cry in front of him. Chris froze in his spot as you turned away. They followed you in the lobby, their heads hung low as you tried to recollect yourself.

“Nena” Zabdiel softly whispered in the elevator “we’re sorry”

“So sorry” Chris chimed in as you felt Zabdiel move, standing right behind you

“Por favor no llores“ Zabdiel sighed heavily pushing back his own tears as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and resting his head on top of yours

The moment was cut short as the elevator reached your floor. The three of you stepped out, with the boys close behind you as you unlocked the front door. You pushed the door wide enough for the two of them to come in as you made your way to the bedroom. You slammed the door shut, locking it as you stepped into the master bathroom. You felt numb and just wanted to pamper yourself a bit and go to bed and talk about it in the morning. You turned on the bath, feeling the warm water run down your fingers. You added your favorite scented soap and sunk in. The warm water wrapped around your body and soothed your muscles. The tears relentlessly streamed down your face as the hurt and betrayal sunk in. You stayed in the tub until your fingers pruned, making you sigh, feeling like you should eventually end the night. You wrapped a towel around your chest, brushed your teeth, and applied your night creams before leaving the bathroom. As you quietly opened the door, you were met with a solemn Chris and Zabdiel patiently waiting for you sitting on the side of the bed.

"You guys are sleeping on the couch. Hablamos mañana pero por ahora no te quiero ver." You stated coldly

"Nena" Chris stood up gingerly approaching you looking at you as if you were going to run at any second

He watched you clutch your towel closer to your body, as he stood face to face with you. His eyes lingering at your hand, as he slowly moved your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

"Can we please talk about it now? No me puedo dormir sabiendo que estas así" his big brown eyes locked with yours as he cupped your face, thumb running along your bottom lip

"There's no excuse for what I saw tonight" you retorted moving your face away looking to the side

"You’re right nena,” Zabdiel said as he stood up “but I want you to know she meant nothing,” he walked towards you standing behind you gently running his fingers up and down your biceps

“We needed her help to promote our new single” Chris added “we were using her for her fame”

Zabdiel’s lips gently danced on the side of your neck, hitting your weakest spots. Bolts of electricity traveled down your nerves and pooled at your core.

“She’s not you hermosa” Chris said “she’ll never be you amor”

Chris gently moved your face to face his. A soft, and guilty expression was smeared across his face.

“Amol déjenos mostrarle que tu sos la unica“ Zabdiel lowly growled in your ear

“Nadie puede reemplazarte nena“ Chris said as his lips crashed onto yours

Your anger slipped away, as Zabdiel whispered sweet nothings into your soft skin. You melted under the kiss with Chris, as he spilled everything words couldn't describe into you. Zabdiel began to nip your neck, as Chris’s kiss turned passionate and hungry. Zabdiel’s large hands roamed your body, practically begging you to loosen your hold on the towel. Your fingers weakened their grip as Zabdiel made it to your shoulders. Your hands reaching up intertwining with Chris’s hair, as Zabdiel grabbed your breasts, lifting them up with his large hands, as he tugged on your nipples making you moan out right into Chris’s mouth. Chris grabbed your hips, pulling you closer as Zabdiel pressed his erection against you. More arousal pooled between your folds as you whined out craving more. Tugging on Chris’s shirt, he quickly broke off the kiss to give into what you wanted. Your hands roamed his torso as you marked his neck.

“Let us make you feel good princesa” Chris groaned

Chris and Zabdiel ushered you to the bed, laying you flat on your back. Chris kneeled between your legs as he marked your inner thighs. You tugged on his locks as Zabdiel leaned over you taking your hardened nipple in his mouth. Your back arched off the bed, pushing more of your soft flesh into Zabdiel. Chris kitten licked your drenched slit and growled

“Tonight it's about you hermosa”

His hands gripped your thighs, holding them open as he reached your swollen clit.

“So sweet preciosa” he groaned as your juices dance around his taste buds

“Chris!” you cried out as you bucked your hips

He forced your hips back down as he began drawing your favorite pattern. Zabdiel paid attention to your other nipple adding on to the stimulation. Your hand laced in Zabdiels bleached locks and tugged as you tugged on Chris’s highlighted locks. You felt your walls open up as Chris slipped in two fingers. He pumped quickly, no wasting any time to send you on cloud nine. He curled his fingers right into your weakest spot.

“Chris!” you screamed out harshly pulling his hair

Your thighs squirmed, making his fingers dig into you on one leg as your free leg rested on his back pulling him closer. Chris’s fingers inside you made the wettest sound coming in and out of your body. Your walls clenched around Chris’s fingers as Zabdiel came up to kiss your lips. Zabdiel’s large hands fondled your breasts as Chris tugged on your clit. Zabdiel swallowed your all moans as a knot built up inside you. The pleasure bundled up until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your thighs trembled, and toes curled so tightly it hurt as you released. Your eyes rolled back as Chris groaned riding out your orgasm. You had no time to recover as Zabdiel and Chris switched places. Zabdiel left a trail of kisses from your lips, down to your jawline, pecking a mark he left under your ear, down the valley of your breasts, past your navel and finally his warm breath fanned over your slit.

“Nena, you’re so sweet prova” Chris growled

Chris cupped your face and kissed your swollen lips, with his lips still shinning in your juices. You could easily taste your sweet juices all over him. You moaned into Chris as Zabdiel teased you. His arms wrapped around your thighs as his mouth showed you no mercy. You knew you weren’t going to last long. You still had yet to recover from your first orgasm and you knew Zabdiel was eager to bring you over the edge. Zabdiel began by spitting right into your slit, quickly mixing in with your arousal. It was so filthy, so raunchy it pulled a loud moan out of you making Zabdiel smirk.

“You like that nena?” he grinned as he teased your slit and spat once again into your folds

You whined out in response and squirmed your thighs, feeling his tongue run up your slit. Chris’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly.

“Fuck hermosa that’s so filthy” Chris groaned

Your hand, instinctively wrapped around Chris’s wrist, keeping him close. You were a moaning mess tugging on Zabdiels locks as Chris applied more pressure around your neck.

“Zabdiel!” you cried out as he roughly entered you with two fingers

His longer and thicker fingers gave you a bigger stretch than Chris, and he used more force in massaging your g-spot. His fingers pumped harshly and quickly as he groaned into your clit. Vibrations from his mouth made you moan loudly. Your walls clenched around Zabdiel as a knot quickly built up inside you. He instinctively tugged on your clit one last time, pushing you fully over the edge.

“Fuck!” you screamed out as you reached your second orgasm

Your walls trembled around Zabdiel as he rode you out. Thighs weakly shaking around him. He slowed his movements down as Chris let you go. Zabdiel flipped you over as Chris moved over to stand behind you. You heard the remaining clothes drop to the floor. Soft lips kissed down your spine as a pair of hands wrapped around your hips. You turned your head and watched as Zabdiel slid inside you.

“Fuck nena, you’re so tight,” he groaned as his cock slowly stretched out every inch of your warm wet walls

Your arm reached out and gripped the sheets as you rocked your hips, wanting him to go faster.

“Hold on hermosa” Chris grinned as he toyed with your clit collecting some of your arousal

“For what?” you whined as you rocked your hips faster

“This preciosa,” he growled as Zabdiel pulled out and sat on the bed

Chris ushered you to Zabdiel's lap, letting you sink back down. As you came back up, Chris slid a finger inside you, giving you an extra stretch. You moaned out as you clenched around them.

“Fuck! Chris” you moaned as your nails dug into Zabdiels shoulders

Chris marked your shoulder and neck as he slowly slid in his middle finger. The cold ring from his middle finger had your eyes rolling back. The contrast from his rings always riled you up, and he knew that.

“You’re so good nena�� Chris encouraged

Once you started grinding your hips, Chris knew you were ready for a third finger.

“This is the only pussy that could ever make us happy amol” Zabdiel groaned as he pampered you in soft kisses

Chris slipped in his ring finger and groaned as you moaned loudly. You ran your fingers up to the back of Zabdiel's neck as your back arched. His cock now firmly pressed on your g-spot had your breathing hitch.

“Christopher!” you cried out and then weakly crying out “Zabdiel”

Your walls slowly adjusted to the bigger stretch. Zabdiel stayed still, as Chris waited for you to give the go-ahead. You began moving your hips, grinding down on them making them groan out. Zabdiel’s tip with each movement massaged your weakest spot making you moan more and more.

“Fuck nena ready for more?” Chris grinned as he kissed the top of your shoulder, giving you a little purple-red cloud

“Dame lo” you whimpered excited to be completely stuffed

Clenching Zabdiel's shoulders in anticipation as Chris pulled out of you. He spit on his hard cock, giving it a few strokes before slowly burying it in your pussy inch by inch.

“Chris!” You cried out as you felt the head of his cock slip inside you

Once you had him fully inside you, they stayed still waiting for you to fully adjust. This was the most they have ever stretched you You slowly rocked your hips after the slight pain turned to pleasure.

“Oh my god” you moaned

They followed your lead, slowly rolling their hips grunting with every movement.

“Fuck nena this is so hot” Chris grinned as he nipped your ear lobe

You moaned as your walls fluttered around them. Zabdiel kissed you passionately, as he whispered sweet nothings.

“No paren” you whined as you tried to go faster

Sensitivity began creeping in as you moved your hips faster. With two cocks fully inside you, your g-spot was shown no mercy- especially by Zabdiel. With the pleasure building up and intensifying you craved more. You wanted to be pushed over the edge one last time.

“Dame mas” you whined as you ground your hips down and nipped Zabdiel’s weakest spot on his neck

“Whatever you want hermosa” Chris groaned as they both rolled their hips quicker

Skin slammed agaisnt skin, as your breasts bounced. Chris laced his hand between your folds, pinching your sore clit, making you scream out.

“That’s it nena, don't hold anything back let us hear your pretty moans” Chris encouraged marking your neck

Zabdiel marked your breasts, taking your hardened bud and pulling with his teeth as your other hardend nipple rubbed against him. Your back arched as you ran your fingers down Zabdiel’s arms, leaving little red trails. Walls clenching both cocks as the pleasure built up into a familiar knot.

“Fuck nena” Zabdiel groaned, feeling your walls squeeze him tightly

Your words losing their coherency, as your thighs began to tremble.

“Cum nena” Chris growled as he roughly drew your favorite pattern

Your knot snapped, juices spraying everywhere as you squirted over them. Your breathing hitched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. They weren’t far behind you, giving you a few more thrusts before cumming inside you. They pulled out, leaving you over stuffed in their juices. Zabdiel walked into the bathroom getting a towel, as Chris pulled you on top of him.

“Come here Nena” he smiled “you were so good tonight”

Your head rested on his chest as his arm protectively wrapped around you.

You hummed as you traced his dragon tattoo.

“You know we still need to talk about what happened at the club” you stated as you looked up at him

Zabdiel finally came back with a damp wash cloth and gently wiped away the excess cum dripping out of you.

“Tienes todo el derecho estar enojada amol“ Zabdiel said as he threw the cloth in the hamper “we should have told you, we were planning on using her”

“Joel found out she has a little crush on Zabdiel and we figured we could use that to get her to promote our single” Chris added in

“solamente queremos a ti” Zabdiel said as he laid his head on your stomach intertwining his limbs with yours

“How far would the two of you gone tonight if I didn't stop it?” you asked as your other hand toyed with Zabdiels locks

“We would never cheat on you nena” Chris quickly responded

“We were just going to tease her Amol” Zabdiel added as he drew soft circles on your thigh

Your body's exhaustion began to catch up with you as your eyelids grew heavy. You continued asking questions, as you rested your eyes shut. You don’t remember the last question, or the response. All their answers sincere and honest as they added in sweet nothings every chance they got. You were the first to wake up the next morning, still intertwined with their limbs and their arms wrapped around you. Looking over at the clock, you knew you only had fifteen more minutes of admiring both of them before they had to rush to the airport. And you savored those few minutes as much as possible, already missing mornings like these.

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

Anon: Can you do another Zabdiel and Chris poly relationship one?? The first was so good. Maybe a little angsty this time. Like they keep paying attention to some model or something and they basically ignore you cause they are distracted so you go back to your hotel room so sad but they realize they fucked up and make it up to you... with hot rough and dirty sex of course lol

A/N: Thank you Riley @cnc-oh-boi for the sharing pussy idea sfsfhsf

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sincerelyasomebody · 4 years ago

Text

For This Moment || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: Grammatical errors are expected, took a few days to write this. Kept getting distracted. Added background-ish info on Sad Eyes. Tried to mix in what has been mentioned on the show and what I came up with. Please let me know if changes need to be made with the Spanish translations.

Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader

Summary: Everything happens for a reason.

Warnings: fluff, friendzone(d), language,

Word Count: 2716

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

The sheer joy on the children's faces and the sound of their laughter, as they watched Principal Nichols be dunked in a water tank, was definitely going to be a highlight for this year's Freeridge Elementary Fun Fair. (Y/N) cheered with them as he was met with a pie to the face, exiting the tank, from his wife Lois. She laughed when a few of her colleagues ambushed the pair with silly string.

A great way to officially declare the fair to be open.

(Y/N) maneuvered her way through the crowd, saying quick 'hello's to the parents of her students, and walked up the pathway leading into the school hall. The space had been split into two areas – hers was the booth of prizes with Kira and Lyall, the music teachers. Instead of the multiple game booths having their own set prizes, winners of the games would be given a token. The amount of tokens won equated to what kind of prize you could get. On the other side of the hall was face painting which Rachel, David and Connor, all fifth grade teachers, were in charge of. This would be (Y/N)'s first time in charge of a booth and she was bubbling with excitement. As a past pupil of the elementary, she was happy to know that the fun fair was still going. Only this time more planning, effort and funding was put into it. The hall was beginning to fill up with those wanting to get their face painted, so she decided to look at the classroom photos from the past hung up on the walls. It didn't take long to spot the familiar second-grade classroom photo that hung up in her parents house. Her eyes scanned through the faces until they landed on the boy in the black button up shirt, khaki shorts and scuffed up shoes; Jose Guzman.

A boy she hadn't really thought much of when the school year started. Until an incident involving both of them allowed an interaction to occur.

Mr Macks (a college student on placement) tried to entertain the students, while their teacher Mrs Robin left to do some photocopying, but it was proving to be difficult. Even more so when he stepped in to deal with a scuffle between three students. He sent them to the reading nook at the back of the class, with the message that Mrs Robin would talk to them when she got back. Then he focused his attention on the rest of the class.

(Y/N) held the drawing of her Poppa's garden, scribbled over with a marker, tightly to her chest as she sat beside the window. Bobby sat next to the library shelf, with his arms folded, and Jose sat in the space between them with legos in his hands.

All three of them knew they were trouble, they just didn't know how much trouble they were in.

"Bobby's a shithead," Jose whispered.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, "that's a bad word!" She looked over at Mr. Macks who continued to read to the class, "you're gonna get in more trouble!"

"Are you gonna tell on me?"

"No." He gave her a nod, "good."

"Okay if I don't tell on you, you can't tell on me."

"Why would I tell on you?"

She looked at Bobby, "because he's not a shithead, he's an asshole."

They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into giggles, their hands quickly covering their mouths. However, this caught the attention of Bobby, who glared at the pair, "you're not allowed to talk."

"You're not allowed to talk," mocked Jose, "shut up, asshole."

(Y/N) giggled and looked over at Bobby's face, "yeah, shut your face shithead."

"Your mama played you when she put that big ass bow on your head," (Y/N) turned around and was met with a smirk, "Lyla teased you the whole day."

Jose 'Sad Eyes' Guzman.

No longer the boy in the picture, but a man.

"I had a sore head and she got a bleeding nose," responded (Y/N) with a shrug.

Before he could reply, (Y/N) was called back over to her booth. A line had formed and those waiting were getting antsy. She gave her old friend a smile and then dashed back to where she was stationed. Quickly checking over the prizes and helping those in front of her choose what they wanted. When (Y/N) had been offered a job at her old elementary, she immediately packed up her life in San Diego and moved back to Freeridge. Despite San Diego being her home all throughout college and two years post graduation, Freeridge would always hold a special place in her heart. Upon returning she had moved into an apartment a few blocks away from the school and also her parents home. Moving back felt different, but a good kind of different. She was surprised that the interaction with Sad Eyes (she was unsure if she had a right to call him by his government name) wasn't awkward, considering the way their last interaction had ended. But, (Y/N) concluded that they had both grown since then.

Exchanging tokens for prizes, chatting with some more parents (mostly discussing their child/ren's progress) and grabbing more prizes from behind the stage was beginning to take a toll on the woman. Thankfully, the fair was almost over - just another hour or so, before the staff and parent helpers would pack everything up. With the prize booth looking a bit empty, she decided to take a walk.

"I'll be back to help pack up," she told Lyall and smirked when his focus was on Kira, talking to a group of her students, "ask her out."

He gave her an eye roll, "get outta here." With a laugh, she moved in front of the booth and walked out of the hall. A bouncy castle on the front field caught her attention, but she stayed away from it when she noticed the clown printed on the front. She followed the smell of (food) which brought her to the junior courtyard of the school. Buying herself two and a (drink), she sat herself down at an empty table. She ate and drank, enjoying the somewhat peaceful atmosphere. Her eyes scanned her surroundings and just happened to land on Sad Eyes. She stood up when she noticed he was cradling his hand in the other. Catalina, his sister, walking beside him. She threw her rubbish away and walked up to them.

"What happened?"

He shook his head, "nothing, I'm fine."

Catalina scoffed, "dumbass punched the button for Oso to be dunked and now it's most likely bruised," she then smiled at (Y/N), "lookin' good, chica." She then nudged her brother, "tell her she looks good, idiota."

Laughing, (Y/N) shook her head, "thanks, Lina, I'll take it from here." She was met with a smile and nod, before the young woman walked off. (Y/N) gestured for him to follow her. They walked into the front office and made a right turn into the sick bay. (Y/N) had him sit on one of the bunks. Gently taking his hand into hers, she looked it over, "it's not swelling up, so it doesn't appear that anything's broken, probably bruised like Lina said." She turned around and grabbed an ice-pack from the refrigerator, wrapping it in a towel and placed it on the hand, "here you go."

He smiled at her, "thanks bubs."

The sound of her old nickname mixed with the situation at hand, caused a reminiscent wave to wash over her.

"I guess it's official," (Y/N) gently placed the cloth wrapped ice-pack on Jose's shoulder, "congrats, how do you feel?"

Gently laying back on the couch, he winced as another ice-pack was placed on his stomach, "siento que me voy a desmayer." "

"Jose."

He laughed, but quickly stopped, "mierda!" (Y/N) handed over the ibuprofen and a cup of water. Gulping it down quickly, he handed the empty cup back, "I was kidding."

She snatched the cup and put it on the coffee table, "better be… but you feel any different?"

"I guess the only difference is that I know my Ma and Lina will be taken care of if anything happens to me."

(Y/N) flicked his forehead, "don't say shit like that," smirking she looked at him, "Mama G's gonna kick your ass."

"She's gonna kick both our asses," he looked at her, "I got jumped in and you skipped a day," a smirk appeared on his face, "not a good look on your college application, Miss (L/N)." "

"Shut up."

He reached out and squeezed her hand, "kidding, bubs, you'll be accepted in whatever college you want."

"You think so?"

"With your grades, extra curricular activities and the recommendation letters you're gonna get? Kind of hard not too," he replied, "but, you've got time until the application process."

She nodded, "yeah," shifting on the couch, she smiled, "so, have you got a street name?"

"Yeah."

Looking at him expectantly, "well, what is it?"

"Sad Eyes."

(Y/N) gave him a smile, "no worries, Sad Eyes."

He sighed, "Sad Eyes?"

"It's your name," she pointed out and gently removed her hand from his, "you can stay in here, but I've gotta help with the pack up." Just as she stepped back, he got to his feet, "Sad Eyes just –"

"Jose, (Y/N)," he cut her off, "okay? Not Sad Eyes."

"Everyone else calls –"

"You're not everyone else, bubs." His eyes locked with the (colour) orbs, he was familiar with, "when it comes to you, I'm Jose."

"Alright, then, Jose," she laughed when he gave her a goofy grin, "you staying here or what?"

He walked through the door, "let's pack some shit up."

She followed after him. The junior courtyard was filled with parents and teachers alike packing up the tables and chairs. They made small talk along the way. Entering through the side doors, she hurried over to help Lyall take down the leftover prizes and place them into boxes. Anything that was in good condition would be kept for next year's fun fair. Kira carried the boxes onto the stage. (Y/N) took over sweeping the hall with Rachel because David and Connor were using the brooms as swords. Jose tried to help, but (Y/N) didn't want him to injure his hand even more. Her coworkers didn't seem bothered with having a Santos member in close proximity. Once everything was cleaned and packed away, Kira and Lyall made their way to the staffroom where a lunch was held to say thank you to the staff and parents for their help.

(Y/N) decided to opt out of the lunch, when Connor, David and Kira joined the pair and asked if she was coming along. Parent-Teacher conferences were coming up soon and she wanted to make sure her classroom was all set up for it. As it was her first official year teaching (after graduation she worked as a learning support member to gain a bit more experience 'cause she felt she needed to do more groundwork) she wanted to make sure it was presentable.

"It doesn't look like anything's changed," commented Jose, as he followed (Y/N) into their old second-grade classroom, and put his ice-pack on her desk.

She laughed, "yeah, just a few things to keep up with the new generation," she walked over to the reading nook, "remember this?"

This time he laughed, "how could I forget? Bobby was and still is an asshole and a shithead," he shook his head, "can't believe Mrs Robin made us write him apology letters, even when he was the one who started the whole fight."

"He was her favourite," replied (Y/N), as she rearranged a few books, "but, I didn't mind 'cause I made a new friend that day."

A silence fell between the duo, but she didn't think anything of it. She moved through the classroom straightening up things as she passed by. Jose watched her and couldn't help but smile. He couldn't deny that he missed her when she moved away for college. Being involved with the gang allowed him to be a part of a brotherhood and he was so caught up in it that he didn't recognise that he was pushing her away.

Until it was too late.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

She immediately stopped what she was doing and turned around, "what?" Realising what he was apologising for, she shook her head, "Jose it's fine. It was years ago."

"That doesn't make it okay," he replied, "if I could go back and fix everything, I would."

(Y/N) stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, staring at the Santos party across the street. She watched as the party-goers laughed and danced to the music. Her heart sank at the sight of Jose with his arm wrapped around a girl. Spooky noticed her and shouted, "(Y/N)!" With the call of her name, Jose looked up. He quickly got up from where he was and walked to where she stood, a bright smile on his face.

"Are you gonna stand there or come and join the party?" he laughed.

She bit her bottom lip, "no… I just – uh, Lina told me where you would be," her eyes drifted over to the party and then back to him, "after we waited for an hour for you to show up."

His eyebrows furrowed, "show up for what?"

"My birthday dinner," (Y/N) explained, "just finished actually, the celebratory mood kinda died when Lina let it slip that Spooky was also throwing a party," she kicked at the curb, "not a surprise that your priorities have changed, but it doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"(Y/N) I –"

"I get it. But, it wasn't just a birthday dinner you missed. It was the fact that I announced that I'm graduating," she blinked back the tears, "at the top of my class. And, I wanted to make sure everyone that helped me along the way knew how much they meant to me, you know? It fucking sucked 'cause the one who has always supported my venture outside of Freeridge promised they'd never switch up… and then switched up."

Jose moved to hug her, but she held up her hands. He watched as she wiped her eyes and looked at him with her (colour) eyes. The (colour) eyes that always allowed him to know what she was feeling, when the words didn't leave her mouth.

"(Y/N) –"

"Whatever, enjoy the rest of your night, Sad Eyes."

And with that, she walked off.

"Unfortunately, time travel hasn't been invented yet, so you can't go back. But, that's okay." She stepped towards him, "I wouldn't want you too. I'm sorry as well. For ignoring all of your calls. If I could go back, I would pick up every single one and answer." She wrapped her arms around him, "I missed you, Jose."

He kissed her head, "I missed you too, (Y/N).

They held each other close. Jose rubbed his hands up and down her back, loving the feeling of having her back in his arms. (Y/N) breathed in his scent and squeezed him tighter. She listened to the rhythmn of his heart, before stepping back to look at him. He smiled at her, hands still caressing her back.

All of a sudden the atmosphere shifted.

His hands wandered down to her waist giving it a gentle squeeze, while hers gently gripped his arms. Slowly, their faces inched towards each other until their lips touched. Jose trailed up a hand to the back of her head to deepen the kiss, (Y/N) happily accepted it, hands moving to wrap around his neck.

"Been wanting to do that since you punched Bobby in the face," he commented once they broke apart.

"That's interesting, 'cause I've wanted to do that since you poured the bucket of legos over his head."

Jose kissed her nose, forehead touching hers, "gotta be some full circle kinda shit, querida."

"Yeah, it's gotta be," (Y/N) replied and pulled him back in for a kiss.

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Spanish Translation(s):

Chica - girl

Idiota - idiot

Siento que me voy a desmayer - I feel like I'm going to pass out

Mierda - shit

Querida - honey

#sad eyes #sad eyes guzman #sad eyes x reader #sad eyes guzman x reader #x reader #reader insert #onmyblock #onmyblockfanfiction #los santos #freeridge #sincerelyasomebody

116 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 81 - SBT

Here it is.

"Oh man, maths is so hard…"

"I know! But Prof L's nice."

"Yeah, makes it almost easy."

Lunch time came and Mundy smiled. He was on soup duty that day with the poor, and the kids were rushing out of their class with none other than Prof L.

"Hey, M!"

"Hey, guys. So how was it with L? Borin' again?"

The kids laughed as they lined up and took a bowl each.

"Non, it was not." Lucien went behind the counter and lent a hand to Mundy. "Was it?" He asked the children.

"Nah!" They answered as they were served by either Lucien or Mundy.

"You see, M? My classes are never boring."

"Pfff, of course you'd say that…!"

When the soup was served to everyone, Lucien and Mundy helped themselves and shared some bread together. Winter was gone and now was the time for spring.

"How was it with the kids this mornin'?" Mundy asked as they both sat on plastic chairs not far from the tables that had the pots.

"Someone said it was boring." Lucien answered with a smile.

"So I've heard, eh."

"Pff…" Lucien nudged him with his elbow playfully and they both chuckled.

"Nah, seriously, how was it?"

"As usual. I think some of them at least will become very good human beings, and maybe even more. Seeing them everyday fills me with joy."

"Alright then, I see you don't need me, eh?"

"Don't be jealous. I need you, you fill me with another kind of joy…" Lucien winked at his lover.

"Not so loud. The kids are gonna hear you…!"

"They are far away and busy." Lucien answered with a chuckle.

"Still have some classes this afternoon?" Mundy raised a bit of bread to his mouth.

"Oui." Lucien bent on his side and bit in the bit of bread before Mundy had the chance.

"Oi!"

Lucien chuckled and left a quick kiss on his lover's cheek.

"Someone told me that I looked like a thief."

"Whoever that is, they're right!"

"Ages ago, a lifetime ago. I was a different man back then, and I had come to meet with a scruffy - some would say dirty - hunter."

Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"Back then, I used to have short hair and a clean shaven face."

"Now you're the scruffy one, eh?" Mundy joked and Lucien chuckled.

"I guess so, oui. And back then, I used to wear a mask."

"Ah, yeah, the balala-thingy. I remember."

"Oui. And the hunter said to me that I looked like a thief with my… balala-thing."

"Balala-thingy, not balala-thing, Professor Ski."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped and he turned to look Mundy in the eye.

"That's how I called you when we met, remember?" The Aussie asked.

"Of course, I do."

They finished their soup together and the time had come for afternoon classes.

"I shall go."

"Yeah, don't wanna be late for your own classes, eh."

"It sets a bad example for the children." Lucien answered.

"Ooh, listen to you now, an example you are, eh?"

Lucien smirked proudly.

"You should take notes, mon amour."

"Pfff, yeah, well, too late to change anything in me, eh."

Lucien stood up and took Mundy's hand.

"It is never too late." He put Mundy's hand on his lips and left a kiss. The Aussie stood up and pulled Lucien's hand to his own lips.

"Go ahead, Prof L." He kissed it and Lucien blushed.

"Fine, I shall. Take care and see you tonight?" Lucien headed away.

"Yeah, see ya. And uh, Lu'?"

The Frenchman stopped and turned.

"Je t'aime." Mundy said, with his own Australian twist to the pronunciation.

[I love you.]

"Moi aussi, mon loup."

[Me too, my wolf.]

Mundy spent the afternoon going through donations. Clothes, toys, sometimes even pieces of furniture. Of course he wasn't alone and other volunteers helped. He took a break at some point and took a walk around the few blocks. But curiosity won over when he saw the silhouette of a man in his late forties with long, silver hair through a window.

Mundy got closer and watched. Lucien was too absorbed explaining whatever bit of maths was on the blackboard for him to notice that he had an extra student outside, shyly observing him. Mundy saw him go to the kids, boys or girls, from one table to the next. He would crouch down to be at eye-level with them and spend a few seconds there. Sometimes he would take a pencil and scribble something on their copybook. But each time, he would finish his explanations with a smile and a pat on the shoulder or ruffling the blond or brown hair of the child he was addressing.

Mundy smiled. The cold-blooded snake of a spy did have something of a father's instinct. And even if his past job had tried to strip him off of his emotions, Lucien's heart always won.

"Such a ball of repressed romance you are…" Mundy whispered to himself and chuckled before turning and heading back where Maurice needed him.

The afternoon flew by at the speed of light.

"M, you can finish this tomorrow, it will start to get dark and L has finished classes a long time ago now. He will wonder why you come back home so late…!"

Maurice came to Mundy who was busy trying to repair a toy. He had a screwdriver in his hand and an allen key behind his ear. The king of beggars removed the allen key and tapped Mundy's shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Maurice."

"How is it going?"

"Alright. Just a few tweaks and a new battery ought to do the job on this little car."

"Great. Now, please, go back home or L will tell me off." Maurice chuckled.

"Yeah, true." Mundy put away his tools and tidied up his working bench before standing. "Alright, thanks Maurice, I didn't see the time fly."

"It is alright. I should have a clock installed in this workshop. But yes, please, we'll see each other tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya."

They exited the workshop and Mundy locked it before heading home. His walk back home wasn't too long but as he put his hand on the front door handle, a noise surprised him. He leaned his ear on the wooden door to listen better.

"Is that…?"

Yes, it was. It wasn't any odd noise. That particular kind Mundy could recognise anywhere. He unlocked the door and pushed it open as silently as possible before slipping in. He walked to the living-room and peeked through its door.

The flames of the fireplace made the Burgundy walls glow in warm shades of red and orange. Perle and Soot brushed themselves on Mundy's legs before slithering in the room. Lucien was sitting in the middle of it, on a piano. He had tied his hair in a messy bun but some locks of hair fell beautifully around his face. Mundy's heart swelled in his chest and he didn't even wonder where the piano had come from.

The halo of the dancing flames cut Lucien's black silhouette poetically. He was playing with the ivory keys confidently. Mundy removed his aviators to see him better.

{To the reader: the song is "Star Triste" [Sad Star] by Juliette Armanet. Some of the lyrics have been changed.}

"Accoudé à mon piano,

[Leaning on my piano]

Je fais le beau

[I play it cool]

Je veux qu'on m'aime,

[I want to be loved]

Qu'on m'aime dans la peau."

[To be so loved.]

Lucien was dancing on the piano, his hair followed the movement of his head that he swung in rhythm.

"J'voulais pas devenir chanteur,

[I didn't want to become a singer,]

Lady crooner,

[A lady crooner]

J'rêvais d'une vie plus claire,

[I dreamt of a more simple life]

Peut-être plus sincère."

[Maybe more true.]

Perle and Soot jumped on the piano seat and then on top of the piano itself and they laid there, spooning each other. Soot bathed the white cat and no doubt they were purring, even though Mundy couldn't hear them.

"J'sens que je vais finir en idole,

[I feel I'll end up an idol]

En bourreau des coeurs,

[A heartbreaker]

Le king des baby dolls,

[The king of baby dolls]

Le bureau des pleurs."

[The bureau of cries]

Gosh, what a sight. Mundy had almost forgotten that Lucien could sing that well. It was gentle, delicate waves of air that he blew between his thin lips. It was sensual and soft to the ear.

"Je cherche des yeux

[I look with my eyes]

Quelqu'un pour que le monde s'écroule

[For someone to make the world crumble and fall]

Quelqu'un pour être deux

[Someone to be two with]

Et là parmi toute la foule

[And there, amongst the crowd]

Je n'en vois pas deux

[I can't see two people]

J'suis seul pour lui tout entier

[I am alone for him entirely]

Seul sur la scène

[Alone on the stage]

Juste pour lui"

[Only for him]

Lucien raised his head off the black and white keys and looked at the door. Nothing. Hm. He could have sworn he felt as if he was being watched.

"Il n'y a qu'un seul moyen de le savoir."

[There is only one way to find out.]

Lucien dived back in his bubble of concentration. He knew what he should play next, to lure his lover out of the shadows.

He placed his fingers on the keys and took a deep breath. Lucien started much slower than the original version. But he needed to remind himself of the chords and arpeggios. Ah, oui, it was coming back to him now, his fingers knew what they were doing and he started to sing.

"Time can never mend

The careless whisper of a good friend.

To the heart and mind,

If your answer's kind,

There's no comfort in the truth.

Pain is all you'll find.

I should have known better, yeah."

Lucien looked at Perle and Soot. They were sleeping peacefully, their limbs were intertwined in a beautiful mix of black and white fur.

"I feel so unsure

As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.

As the music dies,

Something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen,

And all is sad goodbyes."

A breathy line of saxophone resonated from the corridor and Lucien smiled. He went on with the music, nothing shall interrupt them!

"I'm never gonna dance again!

Guilty feet have got no rhythm!

Though it's easy to pretend,

I know you're not a fool!

I should have known better than to cheat a friend!

And waste a chance that I'd been given!

So I'm never gonna dance again,

The way I danced with you!"

Mundy had entered the living-room and was now playing that oh so famous saxophone tune from the well known 'Careless Whisper', by George Michael. He joined Lucien and leaned on the side of the piano.

One tapped ivory and ebony keys while the other played with gold. The flames of the fireplace lit the black varnished, grand piano and the golden saxophone beautifully.

Both improvised on the piece and it lasted much longer than it should. The piano answered the saxophone and the saxophone answered the voice. Hammers hit strings more passionately as Mundy blew in his golden dragon, the flames of what his voice couldn't sing springing vividly to Lucien.

After a length of time that none of them knew precisely, they stopped. Mundy had ended up sitting next to Lucien on the piano seat. He put the saxophone on top of the piano next to the cats and took a deep breath.

"That… was epic." He said and leaned his head on Lucien's shoulder. The latter chuckled.

"We should do this more often."

"What? Play Careless Whisper for hours?" Mundy asked as he dearly held Lucien's arm in his.

"Playing together. After all, that's all we've ever done, hm?" Lucien put his hand on Mundy's thigh and brushed it gently. He leaned his head on Mundy's.

"Yeah… Playin' together weird games, eh?"

"Oui, but I wouldn't change anything."

"I'd change the bit where you made me believe you were dead." Mundy teased.

"Ah, oui, that. I almost forgot about it." Lucien found Mundy's hand and laced his fingers around his.

"I didn't. It felt awful."

"To this day I am surprised that you did not beat me up for it." Lucien said.

"To be honest with ya, I couldn't. It didn't even cross my mind."

"How come? I thought I was your favourite punching bag." Lucien kissed his lover's head and leaned on it again.

"Ha, yeah, 'course you are but…"

"But?"

"But I was so happy to see you. I was over the moon…!" Mundy answered. "And uh… If you think about it, coming out of your hidin' is like refusing to lie. It's like you had the choice between continuing to lie or coming to me, and you chose to take the risks and come to me. Means a lot to me."

Lucien smiled, albeit sadly. He wished he had met Mundy much earlier in life.

"Now, the more I think about it, the more I… Uh… I mean I love you."

Lucien bit his lip. Something was gnawing him on the inside and had been for days now.

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"I have something to confess, yet again."

Mundy straightened his back and looked at his lover next to him.

"What is it?"

"I fear you might want to beat me up after all." Lucien lowered his head.

"Why?" Mundy took Lucien's hand in both of his. He looked him in the eye but Lucien was staring down at his thighs.

"Because there is a lie that I need to clear up."

"Go ahead."

Lucien took a deep breath.

"Tomorrow I shall take you somewhere, if you agree. But you shall face it without me."

"Face what?" Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"The lie that Maurice has been nurturing for years and that he shared with me for days now."

Mundy frowned.

"Alright… Uh… I must say it doesn't explain much but I guess that's all I'm gettin' for tonight?"

"I am sorry." Lucien hid his face in his hands.

"Hey now, it's fine." Mundy hugged him.

"Non, it is not. You will hate me when you find out!"

"No! I can't hate you, luv', whatever it is, I won't hate you. I can't!"

"Mundy… Please…?" Lucien removed his hands off his face and looked up at Mundy. The Aussie saw the flames of the fireplace dance in the guilty pupils of his lover.

"Yeah?"

"I promised to stay with you and I will." Lucien said. "You will need to face this lie and look at it right in the eye. It will be painful and it will shock you beyond what you have lived so far."

Mundy's breath accelerated. His body was tense as he started to measure the seriousness of Lucien's words.

"I will not be with you because you have to do this alone. But I will be nearby."

"Lu', you're startin' to scare me…"

"I will be nearby but…"

"But what?"

"But I will understand if you don't want to talk to me for a while, if looking at me hurts because I have overstepped the mark and did something wrong to you, again."

"Lu', don't talk nonsense, I love you too much for that."

"Mundy…" Lucien headbutted Mundy's chest softly and buried himself there. "In my defense, please understand that since the day Maurice told me the truth, I have been unable to sleep soundly, I felt like I was lying to you and God knows that I never want that to happen again. It pained me so much that… I sometimes even found it hard to look at you in the eye because each time I did, I would hear a voice in my head screaming that I was lying to you. It was unbearable!" Lucien clawed Mundy's jumper on his chest.

"Whatever it is, it's gonna be fine and I won't be mad at you. Don't find excuses like this. I… I'm sure that if you lied, you had good reasons to, eh?" Mundy cupped Lucien's face and made him look up. "Ok?"

"Non. I was just too cowardly to tell you the truth, and too afraid of your reaction." Lucien answered sadly. "And now I am ashamed."

"Luv', there's no harm done, ok? I love you way too much to hold a grudge or anything."

"You say that now, but tomorrow shall test your love for me brutally."

Mundy hugged Lucien again.

"Whatever it is, we've fought worse." The Aussie said. "We've fought worse and we made it. Every bloody time, however hard it was, we made it together. Now I don't know what you've been hiding from me and why you're so terrified of my reaction when I'll find it out. But I can't afford to lose you, not again. I know how hard it is to be without you. So don't worry, I won't let go of you."

"I fear that you might reconsider everything tomorrow."

"Don't. There's nothin' in the world that'll change the fact that I need you in my life."

"So do I, mon amour, so do I…"

Lucien closed his eyes and clung to Mundy. That hug lasted for minutes and to the Frenchman, it almost seemed as though it would be the last.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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tiptapricot · 5 years ago

Note

Hey hi, I’m the Dana accidentally ends up saving Batman multiple times anon and I’m a complete moron for not thinking this until now!!!! 5 TIMES DANA SAVES BATMAN + 1 TIME TERRY SAVES DANA (AND EVERYTHING CLICKED TOGETHER)

Anon I swear this wasn’t supposed to take this long but it became 10k+ words of fluff, angst, and character study so I hope that makes up for it. You can read it on AO3 here, enjoy!

—

The first time she isn’t thinking.

The lights of the club are still flashing, but the pulsing music is drowned out by screams and shouts as people run for the door. Dana should be with them, she should be running too, following Blade and Chelsea and Terry, but she can’t move. She’s huddled behind an overturned table, watching petrified as Batman dances through the strobe lights, dodging blows like a liquid shadow.

She doesn’t know what the goons want or where they came from, but they’re dressed in matching blue uniforms and wielding chains and maces that glow white hot and burn the patterned carpet when they drag on the ground.

She’s scared. She’s lived in Gotham her whole life and she can deal with Jokerz and weirdos but these are honest to goodness super villains, more like the ones you’d find in Metropolis.

The fight moves up the stairs to a higher level and she loses sight of them. There’s some kind of small explosion that sends dust cascading over the upper ledges of the club and Dana takes it as her que to move. She runs from wall to wall, trying to avoid getting caught in the open space of the dance floor. There’s a loud yell from somewhere above her, much closer than she thought the goons were, and all she can think about is that someone’s spotted her and that any second she’ll be dropped like a rabid dog.

She dives behind the juice bar, pulling into herself and waiting as she tries to calm her breathing. She stays crouched and curled up tight against the tiled floor, her heart hammering against her rib cage. Nothing. The sounds of the fight have resumed and she’s fine, she can move.

Dana peeks up over the counter, scans the room, and starts to get up.

She’s fine. It’s fine. The door is so close. She can make it.

A body slams into the wood to her right and she screams. She hopes it got lost in the blaring music from the speakers but she isn’t sure. It takes her a moment to actually look at it, and the sight doesn’t make her feel any better.

It’s Batman, splayed across the counter and barely moving. There’s a large rip on one side of his costume, the black peeling away to reveal a melted mess of circuits. Either he’s unconscious or… Dana gulps in breaths and tries to focus. No, he’s breathing, he’s not dead.

She hears shouts and footsteps cutting through the beating bass. If they find him he’s as good as dead, and you are too. Dana slips her hands under Batman’s arms and drags him behind the bar. Her palms are sweaty and they keep slipping against his suit but she manages to press the two of them as far into the shadows as they can go.

She hears the goons shouting orders, telling each other to “fan out!” and “find that bat-dreg!” and she hopes they’re invisible enough to stay hidden.

She glances over at Batman. He looks so odd, the contours of his face smooth and dark, the suit’s material reflecting the strobe lights in odd ways. They’ve only come face to face a few times, but did he always look this young?

A shadow crests over the top of the counter’s silhouette. Dana’s heart rate spikes again and she feels Batman shift next to her. Her hand flies to cover his mouth before he can make a sound. The white lenses of his eyes go wide and she feels an arm wrap around her back, flipping her over and pushing her further against the counter. She doesn’t even have time to feel weird about it, because a second later he disappears before her eyes. But he’s still there, she can feel his breath on her face and feel his weight pressing her into the bar. What the fuck?

They stay like that until the shadow disappears. She can feel Batman lean back just before he becomes solid again, pulling away. He glances over the counter and leans in so she can hear him.

“Wait a few seconds for me to lead them away and then run for the door, alright?”

Dana nods, eyes wide.

Batman smiles, at least she things he does, and then he’s gone, swooping back into the fray.

She hears a roar and a crash and then she’s running for the door. If the shouts are for her she doesn’t pay attention to them. She’s just running, running, drowning in light and sound and—

And the air outside is cold and fresh. A group of policemen rush up to help her away from the building and someone wraps a blanket around her shoulders. Dana’s hands are shaking and she’s still struggling to breathe but it’s okay, it’s alright. Her legs feel like jello and she’s not sure how long she can stand, so she wobbles to the curb and sits down, closing her eyes and taking breath after breath after breath.

Chelsea and Blade run up from the group of people still crowded around the building asking if she’s alright, their faces pinched with worry.

“I’m fine.” She says. But she’s not, at least… she’s not sure.

The two of them sit down on either side of Dana and rub her shoulders. Blade goes to get her a bottle of water from the medics and Chelsea tells her she called her dad to pick them up. That eases Dana’s worry somewhat.

But Terry isn’t there.

Chelsea says they got separated in the crowd and they haven’t seen him since, so Dana calls him.

He doesn’t pick up. She calls again and he still doesn’t pick up. She sends him a text and calls his mom but she hasn’t seen him either. She can’t help but worry. What if he’s gotten hurt? Why else would he just leave?

She worries all the way to Chelsea’s house, all the way through dinner, and all the way to bed. She and Blade stay over at Chelsea’s that night instead of going back to the GCU dorms and Terry still hasn’t responded to her messages when they get up the next morning.

Dana sees on the news that members of the Justice League had to be called in to finish taking care of the villains and she wonders for a moment if Batman is alright. He didn’t look in the best shape when she’d helped him, but there were no reports of a body, so maybe he’s fine. She hopes he is at least.

Terry doesn’t come to any of the classes they share that day, or the day after. When he walks into Science on the third day, he’s sporting a nasty black eye and limping. He refuses to tell her what happened and that worries Dana more than anything else.

She knows Terry. She knows his favorite foods and drinks, she knows he’s a sucker for retro 2000s pop, she knows what sent him to Juvie, but for the life of her she can never tell what he’s feeling.

He doesn’t talk about his insecurities, even though she knows he has loads. He doesn’t talk about his dad much, even though she knows he’s still hurting, and now he won’t tell her why it looks like he was in some kind of fight.

What did he do that night after the attack? What did he get mixed up in?

She drops it after a few days and tries to enjoy the break he has from work. It’s rare Terry gets a day off, not to mention a whole week. He still does the odd job or two for Mr. Wayne or leaves to help his mom with something, but otherwise they’re free to go out and have fun. It’s awesome. Dana has almost forgotten what Terry is like as a boyfriend and she’s not disappointed.

They go to parks and malls and theme parks. He tries to help her learn how to ride his motorcycle, but it doesn’t work as well when he can’t actually show her. They still have a good laugh and end up taking Dana’s car to a movie. It’s nice. Terry is… nice to have around.

She just wishes it could last.

The second time is nearly a month later. Dana is walking with Terry and Max to one of the arcades near the university when they hear a loud crash. They turn a corner, and Dana freezes.

A gang of Jokerz is crowded along the sidewalk, their bikes propped up against lamp posts and fire hydrants. A few of them are spray painting a small electronics store, its windows smashed, white faced kids laughing loudly as they ferry TVs and holo phones into a waiting, beat up, floater truck.

It wouldn’t be the most uncommon thing to see in Gotham, except that the shop workers are kneeling outside with their hands in the air, bruises swelling on their faces, and a Joker is pointing a laser pistol at their heads.

Terry grabs Dana’s arm and yanks her back around the corner before they can be seen.

“What should we do?” She hisses.

“I’m gonna run to the police station for help and you and Max are going to go back to campus.” Terry says, ushering her away.

“What?”

“He’s right, Dana. Come on let’s go.” Max grabs her arm and starts to pull but Dana shakes her off.

“But what about those people? We can’t just leave them. Who knows what’ll happen before the cops get here?”

“That’s not our responsibility.” Max insists. “Come on Dana.”

“Terry back me up on this.” Dana turns to look at him and realizes that he’s gone. “Where the hell did he go?”

“He took off for the police station just like he said.” Max grabs her arm again. “Now come on we should really be—“

But she’s interrupted by a shout and the sound of breaking glass. Dana runs to look back around the corner and stops in her tracks.

It’s Batman, in the middle of the day, slamming the Jokerz into each other as he flies above them, leaving thin contrails of smoke in his wake. The employees have managed to get a safe distance away, but the Jokerz are putting up a good fight and tearing up the rest of the street in the process.

Dana can smell the harsh scent of laser plasma and the shots are blinding. Max keeps trying to pull her away but she won’t budge. The night club was terrifying but the fight she’s seeing now is exhilarating. Batman’s red and black blurring through the blinding laser fire, the sunlight filling the street with a yellow glow, she can’t take her eyes off it.

And so she notices, and she sees that Batman doesn’t.

He doesn’t see that when he swoops down to knock over a Joker he lands himself against a wall, he doesn’t see the Jokerz picking themselves up to tackle him, he doesn’t see that if they manage to hold him still for even a few seconds there’ll be a smoking hole right between his eyes.

Dana moves as quickly as possible, ignoring Max’s shouts of warning and stepping over unconscious bodies as she runs for one of the bikes. She grabs a pipe propped up against the tire and rushes at the group of Jokerz as they close in around Batman.

She knows which one has the gun, she sees that the others have grabbed onto Batman’s arms and are starting to restrain him and so she moves. The pipe hits with a sharp crack against the Joker’s skull and the guy falls limp to the ground. The other members stare at her in shock for a moment, and that’s all the time Batman needs to twist out of their grip. In the next second the gang members are lying in a heap on the ground, knocked out cold.

Dana stands with the pipe still raised, nostrils flaring as the adrenaline wears off. Max is at her side immediately, yelling about how dangerous that was and how she could’ve gotten hurt, but Dana stops her with a laugh.

“That was kind of schway.” She says, letting the pipe slip from her hands.

Batman is still standing there, and he seems to realize after a moment that he shouldn’t be.

“I, uh, I should go. The police will be here soon to pick up these guys so I’ll be… going. Thanks for the help. Dana, right?”

“Yeah, you saved me from that rat kid a few years back.”

“I’m… glad you’re doing okay. And thank you.” And that time he really does smile, she can see it. It’s not a scary smile, like she expected it to be. It’s soft and almost snarky, like he knows something she doesn’t. Batman gives them a nod of recognition and takes off into the air, wings fanning out behind him.

“Sometimes you really scare me Dane, you know that?” Max says after a moment.

Dana laughs and pulls her back to their spot around the corner.

“It’s better than being scared. C’mon let’s wait for Terry.”

The third time is in the heat of the moment, cradled in light and pain.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

Matt isn’t in the ball pit or the tube maze, he isn’t in the game area or by the food counter or the bounce house. Dana has checked all those places. Twice. He isn’t anywhere. She’s asked the cooks and the mascots and the employees and the waiters, but they haven’t seen Matt. Oh god no one has seen him.

She’d taken him to the bathroom before she went to get them pizza, but she hasn’t seen him since. That is not normal for an evening of babysitting, especially not for Matt. Usually she can’t get the kid to quiet down, and she knows he isn’t a fan of hide and seek, so something is wrong.

She calls Terry first. She knows he’s helping Mr. Wayne with some big event tonight, but she doesn’t know what else to do.

“Dana?” Terry picks up on the fourth ring. “You know I’m kind of busy, right?”

“Yeah, Terry, but something… came up.”

There’s a long pause and Dana can almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

“What happened?”

“You know how I said I was going to take Matt to Cheesy Dan’s tonight?”

“Yeah…” He says it slow, worry inching into his voice.

“He went to the bathroom and now I can’t find him. No one’s seen him for like, the past half an hour and I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Okay okay give me a second.”

“I think it’s serious Terry.”

“I know, I know. Are you still at Cheesy Dan’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, listen, I’m going to call the police and then see if I can head over. I’m really tangled up but this sounds bad. Talk to you later.”

He hangs up and Dana goes outside to wait. The air is cool and the early evening makes the buildings stick up in glittering silhouettes against the sky.

How could she let this happen? Matt was her responsibility and if she had allowed him get hurt she would never forgive herself. She owes it to Terry. He used to babysit Matt before his job got out of hand. He still works so hard, too. He hasn’t moved out of his mom’s house because he refuses to let her do everything on her own. He’s taking extra classes to try and get his credits done sooner and he still works seven days a week for Mr. Wayne, most of that money going to supporting his tuition fees so that his mom can focus on the house. It’s the least Dana can do to alleviate some of those responsibilities.

“Excuse me.” A finger taps on Dana’s shoulder, making her flinch. She turns and comes face to face with two pointy ears and a pair of white eyes.

“Batman? What are you doing here?”

“I intercepted a police call a few minutes ago from a kid who said his brother was missing. He also told the operator his girlfriend would be waiting for help at Cheesy Dan’s. I was in the area so I thought I’d stop by and see what I can do. What’s the situation?”

“I’m not sure.” Dana rubs her arms, glancing back at the restaurant. “I guess we can’t talk inside, can we?”

Batman shakes his head and gestures to the suit. “I’m not exactly the most inconspicuous company, why?”

“I’m a little, uh, cold.” She gives him a crooked smile. “And I’m guessing your outfit has a little more insulation than mine.”

“Oh… right.” Batman seems genuinely caught off guard for a moment. He looks up and around, thinking, before he presses something on his belt and grabs onto her waste.

“What are you—?” She begins, but a second later they’re rocketing upwards and she has to bite back a scream. She squeezes her eyes shut against the wind and pulls herself closer to Batman. When the air stops she’s met with dim red light and warmth. Batman sets her down and slides into a seat. It takes her a moment to realize she’s inside a car.

“Is this the Batmobile?” She asks, scooting behind his chair. Her legs are squeezed between the leather and the metal dashboards that circle around the interior. “It’s not very roomy.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.” Batman says absentmindedly, easing the thrusters forward. “There aren’t any better places to go, and It should only be for a bit.”

“Right.” Dana settles back against a console and watches the buildings blur by

“So,” Batman presses a button and swivels around to look at her, “tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. It’s like he just vanished.”

Batman makes a humming noise and turns back to pull something up on the car’s screen.

“It says here one of the McGinnises has a record. Could it have something to do with that?”

“I guess, but Terry hasn’t been mixed up with those types of people since Big Time bit it in our Junior year.”

Batman visibly stiffens. “They never found the body though, right?”

“The Gotham river is big, maybe it just got lost. Though knowing this town, anything’s possible I guess.”

“Did Bigelow know you babysit the McGinnis kid?”

“I mean… maybe. I knew him before all the shit hit the fan when we were younger, but I didn’t babysit Matt back then.”

Batman taps his fingers thoughtfully on the console. He doesn’t talk, but she watches him pull up a few more specs before he turns to look at her.

“I’ll look into it and make sure Matt gets back to his family safely.” He flashes a smile and it’s not real. It’s strained and business like and it’s… jarring. “I can take you home if you want. Where do you live?”

Dana stares for a moment, before squinting in disbelief. “Wait, that’s it? You can’t just drop me off, I lost this kid, it’s my job to help find him too.”

“Dana, listen, you’re very nice, but you’re a civilian, I can’t just bring you on a case.”

Dana leans forward to look Batman in the eye and hits her knee on something. She bites her lip but doesn’t react further. This is Batman she’s talking to, if she wants to convince him she has to be confidant. She’s still nervous, she’s still just a kid, and she knows that, but Batman doesn’t know Matt. Batman doesn’t know Terry. Dana does, and she can help but she has to make him listen.

“If this actually has something to do with Terry, and it’s not something else crazy, then I could be an asset to you.”

“That really won’t be—”

“Batman, a little boy’s life could be at stake, you need all the help you can get.”

She can’t believe the words that are coming out of her mouth. She’s talking down to Batman. Batman.

He looks at her, and she sees something familiar in the draw of his brow under the suit, in the muscles and the contour of his face. He turns away before she can pinpoint what it is, and the oddness of the moment sticks in her mind.

“Fine.” He says. “But if there’s a fight you’re staying in here.”

“Can do.”

Batman sighs and the car speeds up. Dana stumbles slightly but can’t help but smile.

They spend the rest of the night together. Batman visits different gang hideouts to ask for information, stopping to end any fights or robberies they catch along the way. At first he’s quiet and serious, but he loosens up as the night progresses.

He stops every few hours for Dana to drop down and get them coffee, he asks her questions about the McGinnises, even though he only seems to be half paying attention, he tries to make small talk, and he jokes. A lot. God Batman makes a lot of jokes. But Dana doesn’t mind. She always expected Batman to be this stoic guy who only cared about justice, but he’s chatty and funny and nice to be around. He’s a genuinely schway guy.

Dana calls Terry’s mom while Batman’s stopping a break in at a chemical lab and talks to her. She’s in a bit of a panic and Dana manages to calm her down. Terry isn’t home yet either, and Mary puts Dana on hold to call him. She checks back in a few minutes later and says he’s still with Mr. Wayne, and that’s a small weight off Dana’s shoulders if anything.

Afterwards she leaves a message for her roommate saying she’s spending the night at a friend’s house and settles back in the driver’s seat. At least when Batman’s out she actually gets leg room. “Don’t touch the thrusters,” he told her, “Otherwise you’ll end up going at mach three with no way to steer.” She’d laughed at first, like this car could reach mach three, but he’d looked at her in a way that made her stop.

He’s Batman, of course it can.

At half-past three, Batman comes back to the car after a raid. She opens her mouth to ask how it went but he just shakes his head and starts the engine again. They drive a few blocks in silence before he parks on a rooftop and hops out, gesturing for Dana to follow. She pulls herself out and slides down to the car’s bumper, pausing a moment before jumping to the ground.

Batman has moved to sit on the edge of the building. He’s hunched over, his hands balled up tightly in his lap.

“I’m sorry.” She hears him say. He sounds less gruff than usual. “I haven’t found anything.”

“Do you usually solve your cases in the first few hours?” Dana asks, just a hint of laughter in her voice. She moves to sit behind him, not quite on the edge, but close. The drop is too far to sit right on the edge.

“You don’t understand, I don’t know where Matt is, I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know what else to do.” Batman’s voice cracks on the last word and Dana watches him crumble. His shoulders shake and he curls in on himself a bit more.

She’s surprised at first. After all, this is Batman she’s looking at, Neo Gotham’s hero, its legend. Of course, he’s not the same Batman from the history books, the one who helped found the Justice League, but he’s the only Batman Dana’s ever known. To see him so vulnerable, to see him cry, it’s like looking at a puzzle with pieces in the wrong places. It doesn’t quite… fit.

Besides, he seemed fine most of the night. He had quieted down in the last hour or so but Dana had just thought it was exhaustion. Maybe it was, but not the physical kind.

Dana hovers for a moment, unsure of what to do. She’s never really had to deal with something like this before. She’s never seen her dad cry and god knows Terry would never even think about it. Chelsea had had a hard time recovering from her time at the Ranch, but she’d mostly stayed home. The most Dana had been able to do was offer comfort.

And in a situation like this, what else can she do?

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Her hand reaches out to pat his back. She rubs little circles between his shoulders, distracted by the feeling of the suit. It almost feels like plastic silk, smooth and industrial. She pulls back after a second and averts her attention to the city below.

“How about we go back to the car, get some more coffee, and try something else. He can’t have just vanished.” She offers.

“Yeah, that sounds… good.” Batman nods and sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. “And, uh, sorry you had to see that.”

“Don’t worry. You’re only human.” Dana smiles.

“Yeah I guess you’re— duck!” His hand shoves her roughly down against the building top as a barrage of laser fire explodes in the air above them. Dana’s cheek scrapes against the concrete and she winces before Batman yanks her back to her feet.

“What the hell?” She yells. Batman pulls her behind him and shields her with his body, firing several batarangs into the crowd of thugs running at them from the other side of the building. There’s a few more shots fired before he grunts loudly and takes a step back, pulling her closer to his back. They’re getting cornered against the drop, Dana can feel the edge against the heels of her shoes.

“Batman what do we—?”

He cries out in pain when one of the shots makes contact with his abdomen and stumbles back, just a few inches, but those few inches make a world of difference. Suddenly air is rushing past Dana’s face and whipping against the fabric of her dress and the two of them are plunging headfirst into a free fall.

She screams and Batman twists to grab her, his wings snapping open. His hands are unsteady, and she can smell burnt plastic and feel the roughness of melted metal against her back. The laser fire follows with deafening blasts and they’re only in the air a few seconds before something bursts above Dana with a loud crack, showering her in smoke and sparks.

Batman seizes and goes limp, his arms loosening underneath her, and Dana glances up to see it was his wings. They’re shredded and trailing smoke like a burst jet engine. The tip of one of Batman’s ears is snapped off and Dana realizes with a start that he’s been knocked unconscious by the explosion.

They start spiraling out of control, the bright lights of Neo-Gotham streaking past, and Dana chokes on her own breath as she tries to think. What can she do? What can she do? She twists so she’s holding onto Batman with one arm and looks around desperately. Everything’s going by so fast, too fast, she can’t see a thing. Dana reaches out blindly and tries to push herself through the air. She sees the lights of a building coming closer and reaches out desperately because how long do they have until they hit the ground?

Her hand smacks against concrete and bounces off, the palm coming away scraped and swelling, but she tries again. Dana reaches out and snags onto a window ledge, the force of stopping nearly yanking her arm out of its socket, and her grip slips again. They tumble a few more feet before she’s able to get hold of something solid. She winces as the pain in her hand flares, and she stops for a moment to catch her breath. They made it.

Dana closes her eyes and lets herself relax a bit. She’s so tired. Her arms ache, she’s bruised and scraped, and she’s sweating like a pig, but she’s alive. They’re alive. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and hauls herself further onto the ledge, lugging Batman behind her. It hurts. He’s heavy and she’s not an athlete, not even close. Her muscles strain and burn, her hand starts to slip on the fabric of Batman’s suit, and her nails scrape against concrete, but she manages to get the two of them onto the ledge.

Dana gasps and gulps and collapses back against the wall, chest heaving. Batman’s still knocked out, his head lolling to one side, but she doesn’t pay him much attention. Her head hurts and her limbs feel like lead and it’s so damn hard to focus. Dana sighs and watches her breath puff out in a cloud of steam. She laughs breathily and lets exhaustion have its way. Her eyes slide shut, and the calm darkness sinks in.

Gotham’s lights look so beautiful at night.

***

Dana floats in and out of consciousness. She’s somewhere cold and quiet, and there are voices.

I know it was a dumb idea but what the hell was I supposed to do?

Leave her behind. She’s a civilian, no matter how much you like her you can’t let personal ties get in your way.

But she saved my life tonight! This is like, what, the billionth time?

Third, and maybe you wouldn’t have been so distracted if she wasn’t there. You let those thugs get the drop on you.

Oh right, like that was her fault.

You need to focus on the mission Terry.

What mission?

She’s somewhere warm and soft, the dull hum of an engine surrounding her.

Think she’ll be alright? I mean, what am I going to say to her dad? I don’t think she’s visited him for like a year.

Say you two went out to go clubbing and got in a fight on the way home. That’s believable enough.

But my mom thinks I was with you the whole night.

I’m an old man, remember? It can’t be too hard to give me the slip.

Right.

She’s under a blanket, in a place that smells familiar. She’s home.

I’m sorry Mr. Tan, I did everything I could but we just barely got away.

I forgive you Terry, I’m just glad you’re both safe. I know you’re adults, but we will be talking about this in the morning. For now go get some rest and I’ll call your mother.

Thank you sir.

She wakes up the next day confused and sore, her face and hands tingling from healing meds.

“Good afternoon sleepyhead.” She sits up, rubbing her eyes groggily, and sees black hair and blue eyes.

“Terry?” He smiles, pushing off the wall near the door. “What are you doing here?” She pauses partway through pulling her blankets off. This isn’t her dorm room. Her bed is too big and there’s a dresser across the room with picture frames sitting on top. This is her dad’s house.

“Why am I here? What happened to Batman?”

“Woah woah woah. Calm down.” Terry walks over to the bed, wincing slightly when he sits down.

“Terr… are you alright?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” He gives her that strained smile, the one that shows too much teeth, the one he uses when he’s lying.

Dana sighs and moves so she can look him in the eye. “Alright, what happened?”

Terry’s smile drops and he averts his eyes. “I, uh, kind of ditched Mr. Wayne last night. I was gonna go find you, but I ran into some Jokerz on the way over and got a bit roughed up. Nothing bad, but I couldn’t get to Cheesy Dan’s. Then…” Terry pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Then I was walking back to my mom’s house and this car drives up, real sleek, black with big jets, a custom I think. And… and Batman came out carrying you. He told me to take you somewhere safe and the first place I thought of was your house.”

Dana’s eyes bulge. “You mean my dad’s house? Terry you know I moved out for a reason.”

“What was I supposed to do? GCU is on the other side of town, I couldn’t carry you that far. Besides, do you have H628 in your bathroom cupboard? You were really banged up, Dana, you needed medical attention.”

“So? My dad’s probably going to make me stay here for a year because ‘I can’t keep myself safe.’ I’m honestly surprised he didn’t skin you alive when you showed up.”

Terry chuckles. “Yeah I thought he was going to too for a moment there. Turns out he was just glad you were alright. Well… mostly alright.”

“You didn’t tell him about, you know…”

Terry shakes his head. “I don’t know what you were doing with Batman, Babe, but I’m sure you had your reasons. I said we went clubbing and got mugged. Still going to be hell to explain that to my mom though.”

Dana laughs and pulls Terry into a hug. “I think you’re the only college kid I know who worries about a curfew, Terr.”

He holds her gently, burying his face in her shoulder. “Yeah, well… They still haven’t found Matt you know.”

“But they will.” She assures him. She stares at the shadows stretching across the carpet and smiles. “I’m sure of it.”

The fourth time is the time she chooses. The fourth time is the time she’s sure.

Matt’s been missing for almost a week. No other kids have disappeared, but that makes the whole thing worse. Dana’s gone in for questioning multiple times, even though she always tells the police the same thing. Terry’s been skipping school more, coming in looking more worn out each day. She’s caught him covering up big injuries more than once, but he won’t talk to her. He hasn’t really talked much since that first day she woke up.

Dana’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel and she takes a deep breath. Batman has been on the news a few times since their night out. She knows he’s looking too, she trusts him.

She turns onto the bridge that cuts over the river and merges into the flow of traffic. Honestly, at this point she’s not even sure whether or not there’s anything to look for. If it was a kidnapping situation, for whatever reason, a ransom would’ve been made by now, right? Dana has thought about it, she’s heard the police talking about it, she isn’t dumb. Sometimes kids just disappear and never show up again. It’s morbid, but this is Gotham. Anything can happen in Gotham.

A car honks loudly in front of Dana and she focuses back on the road. Something’s happening further down the street. She squints against the evening sun, keeping steady. It’s a cargo truck by the looks of it, swerving in and out of the lanes and banging into other cars.

As she gets closer, pulling up just behind it, it’s side door blasts open and out comes a streak of black, as smooth and dark against the sky as ink. Batman. He’s followed by a hoard of armored goons, dressed much too familiarly for her liking.

She sees blue outfits and glowing weapons, and for a moment she can smell the dust and smoke from the club, she can feel her heart in her throat, and hear the booming music vibrating in the air around her. Her hands shake on the wheel, and she blinks rapidly, trying to dissipate the memories of darkness and fear and focus on the moment at hand. She’d done scarier things since. The nightclub didn’t matter.

Batman is hanging off one side of the truck, something wrapped tightly in his arms. When he jumps to dodge a shot from one of the goons, Dana realizes with a start that it’s a child. It’s Matt.

Batman barely manages to dodge a second blast, sending himself careening further down the street. He curls protectively around Matt, landing roughly on the road and rolling a few feet before coming to a stop.

The other cars have slowed or stopped further back on the bridge, and Dana wonders for a moment why she didn’t.

The cargo truck begins to drive faster as Batman struggles to get to his feet and… No. No. Dana won��t let this happen, those dregs are not going to run them over.

She doesn’t think for more than a moment. Her foot slams down on the gas and she hurtles past the truck, sliding to a halt next to Batman.

“Get in.” She says, with much more authority than she expected. Batman jumps into the passenger seat with Matt in his lap and Dana floors it. She’s never been more angry and terrified at the same time.

The truck follows after them and she can hear the shouts of the goons and the purr of the electric engine.

She takes a cursory glance over at Matt. He doesn’t seem hurt, but he’s huddling into Batman, which isn’t a good sign. They hurtle off the highway and jolt when the car touches the ground for a moment. Dana swerves around a minivan and a hoard of honking cars.

“Take the next left,” Batman hisses, “they’re gaining on us.”

“Can do.” Dana puts on a small burst of speed and takes a sharp turn, entering a side alley. It’s narrow, her car crashing into trash receptacles and scraping against the walls. They emerge onto a busy street, Dana veering out of the way of an oncoming semi and into another lane, taking off with the rest of traffic. Batman looks behind them again and relaxes.

“I don’t think they followed us.”

Dana nods but doesn’t slow down, cutting between two cars and taking a turn towards the residential district. Batman doesn’t stop her, just settles back and closes his eyes.

They drive for a few minutes before Dana breaks the silence. “Matt, are you okay?”

“I wanna go home.” He says. It’s muffled, groggy, but she still hears it. She gives a nervous look to Batman and keeps driving.

They pull up to the McGinnises’ apartment and Dana leads Matt up to their floor. He’s out of it, recovering from some kind of knockout drug, but he makes it up the stairs alright. Dana knocks, Mary opens the door, and the woman bursts into tears.

Terry rushes in after about half an hour and pulls Matt into a big hug. Dana stays the rest of the night, talking to police, to Mary, giving her story. Terry pulls her into his room around midnight and they just sit by his window and hold hands. He massages her knuckles and asks if she’s okay and she leans against his shoulder and says that she is.

But in all the commotion she doesn’t get to talk to Batman, she doesn’t get to ask what happened.

But Matt is safe, Matt is home, and in the end that’s all that really matters.

The fifth time is the very next night. The fifth time she almost doesn’t.

Dana looks at herself in the mirror. She’s a little worse for wear, the bags under her eyes more pronounced, a few bruises still healing on her arms and shoulders.

Her dad had asked her to house sit while he was away on a business trip and she had agreed, if reluctantly. It’s weird to be back at the house. She hadn’t moved out under the best of circumstances, but the space still feels familiar and comfortable.

Matt had talked to the police that morning. She wasn’t there for it, but Terry had called her when he got the details and the things he’d said made Dana’s stomach churn.

Some guy had grabbed Matt in the bathroom and knocked him out, and when he woke up he was in a cell. He told the police the people didn’t want to hurt him, that they kept telling him he was only bait for Terry, but that didn’t make things better.

Every few days they moved Matt to a new location. He said they’d knock him out with a cloth, chloroform most likely, and he’d wake up in a different room with a different group of people. It was only Batman’s intervention on the truck that had stopped them from moving him again.

He said the goons talked about their boss a lot, apparently they were who ordered the whole thing, but he never saw who they were and the police were still on the hunt.

Dana’s stomach twists. She doesn’t want to think about why someone would want to get to Terry through Matt, because it makes her think about other things. The injuries, the lying, the disappearances. Maybe Terry is involved in some kind of gang after all. It would explain everything else.

She continues with her evening routine, brushing her teeth and washing her face, her thoughts running wild in the background. When she goes to dry off her face she presses her cheeks into the towel and takes a deep breath. It’s soft and warm and she feels on the verge of crying.

What is Terry doing with his life?

Dana finishes up in the bathroom and slips on her nightgown, walking quietly to her bed. She might be alone, but she doesn’t want to be loud. She doesn’t have the energy to be loud.

She grabs the edge of her comforter and slips underneath. It takes awhile to fall asleep, her thoughts keeping her mind awake, but she gets there eventually. She lets her mind relax, lets the weight and warmth of the covers surround her, and finally sleeps.

***

A loud crash jolts Dana awake. She sits up, looking around wildly, her fingers clutching tightly against her sheets. The window is shattered and the curtains are whipping about wildly in the wind. She yanks the blanket off of herself and stumbles to her feet, pulling on a pair of slippers.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She makes her way cautiously towards the window, expecting at any moment to be jumped by a burglar.

But there’s nothing.

The room is quiet except for her own, loud breathing.

Except… it isn’t just her breathing.

The sound is ragged and wet, interspersed with coughs and Dana turns sharply to find a crumpled shape lying near the stairs. Dark liquid is smeared in a streak across her carpet, joining the puddle seeping into the fabric closer to the body.

Dana is at his side in a heartbeat, because she knows who this is, she can see the ears and the smooth blackness of the uniform. She rolls him over and pales at the large gash in Batman’s side. It’s messy, bits of his suit sticking out at odd angles, frayed and twisted, the wound itself a mess of blood and tissue.

Batman’s breathing is slow and he reaches out to grab her arm, his mouth trying to form words, his face screwed up in concentration. He manages to say her name and give a strained attempt at a smile before a thick line of blood dribbles over his lips and his head lolls back.

Dana slips into a panic.

“Batman? Hey, open your eyes, come on! Please don’t die, not like this, you can’t!” She doesn’t know much about medicine or wounds, but this is too much blood, way too much blood, for a person to be losing. She starts breathing too fast, her chest tightening as she squeezes Batman’s hand.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what you—what you want me to do! Please you can’t just—I don’t—tell me what to do!” She chokes out.

“Hello, can you hear me?” A voice crackles to life, deep and rough and oddly modulated.

“I— who’s there?” She looks around, blinking rapidly before realizing it’s coming from Batman’s cowl.

“Who am I talking to?” The voice asks, the audio quality fluctuating like a fuzzy radio.

“My name is Dana.”

“Where are you Dana?”

“Why do you need to know? Who are you?”

“A friend. I want to help but you need to listen to me. Can you do that?”

“I—yeah I can, I can do that.”

“Good. Where are you?”

“My house, 326 Eastside.”

“Is Batman awake?”

“No… no he passed out about a minute ago.”

“Is he still breathing?”

Dana leans over to check, her heart hammering in her throat. The rise and fall of his chest is so faint, so slow, but it fills her with relief.

“Yes, he’s—yes but barely. He’s losing blood fast.” She keeps tripping over her own words. Her skin is humming with adrenaline and her tongue feels heavy and slow.

“Alright. I need you to listen to me very carefully. I need you to breathe.”

Dana takes a deep breath and steels herself. “Ok.”

“I’ve unlocked the belt for you, there should be a pack of medical capsules in the sixth compartment left from the buckle. Can you get them?”

Dana gives a small noise of confirmation. She counts along the belt, then counts again, shaking her head as she tries to focus. Her hands are unsteady as she unclicks the compartment and lets a few oblong, white, capsules roll onto her palm.

“I have them. What now?”

“Crush them and hold the powder to the wound. Wait until it foams and then let go.”

“O—okay. Okay.” She follows the voice’s instructions, cringing as warm blood runs over her fingers. After a moment, the foam spreads over the wound, stopping the blood flow.

“It worked.” She says, her voice breathless and relieved.

“Good. I’ve sent the Batmobile to you. Once it gets there, put him in the cockpit and press the center button on his belt. That will send him back to me where he can get proper medical attention. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Okay.” Dana’s voice is so quiet.

“The car should come up by your window. You’ll need to get him there. Be careful, the wound is still—” There’s a burst of static and the line cuts out. Dana takes a deep, shuddering breath and tightens her hold on Batman’s hand.

“Hello?” She tries. There’s no response. She looks briefly at the ceiling and tries to compose herself, but tears slip down her cheeks quick and smooth. She tastes the salt on her lips.

“Hello? Are you there?” She tries again. Silence.

Dana nods to herself, laughing ruefully and closes her eyes.

And then she waits.

The voice doesn’t come back. The only sound is that of the breeze coming through the broken window. Whenever Dana shifts, her knees dig into the damp carpet, red staining her shins and ankles.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She doesn’t want to see the dying man lying on her bedroom floor. Batman already looked so tired, and his breaths have only gotten quieter. She doesn’t want to look at him yet. She doesn’t want to open her eyes and see that the dying man has died. She doesn’t want to see that the hero has fallen.

She hopes he’ll be alright.

After what feels like forever, she hears the hiss of a hover engine. She opens her eyes and tries to avoid looking at Batman as she drags him to the window. She kicks out a few more pieces of glass so she can get him through before lowering him as gently as possible into the batmobile. At least she can’t see the blood in the red lighting of the car.

Dana chances a look at Batman before she presses his belt. His eyes have drooped closed, every muscle in his face slack and relaxed. He almost looks like Terry does when he sleeps.

But that thought makes it worse, because suddenly it’s Terry sitting there, bleeding all over the fancy leather seats, inches from death. Because suddenly she thinks about finding him in some alleyway or parking lot, pale and cold and stiff in the wake of a gang fight. She sees him in that moment, and the next she’s stumbling back, her whole body shaking like a leaf, and the car is flying away in a blast of hot air.

Dana sits on the floor of her room, tiny bits of glass pricking into her palms, and stares after the Batmobile. She gulps in breaths of air and feels her tears dripping off the tip of her nose and the side of her jaw and her chin. She tries to rid the sight of blood from her mind’s eye and stares at the blackness outside the window.

The blackness that had swallowed the black car and the black bat and that was filling her room with black shadows.

You can’t see the stars in Neo Gotham, and Dana has never been more acutely aware of that fact until this very moment.

She sits and stares until the tears have become sticky tracks on her cheeks and the blood has gummed up the space between her fingers and toes.

Dana gets unsteadily to her feet, takes one last look out the window, and wipes her hands on her nightgown.

Her bathroom light flicks on and the water runs red into the sink and she looks at the girl in the mirror. The girl who had saved Batman.

+1.

The last time is on a sunny Friday in April, just after school, a two months after the night in her bedroom.

“Dana! Hey, wait up!” Terry jogs up next to her and slips a hand around her waist. It’s a welcome touch, seeing as he’s only been out of the hospital for a few weeks.

“Hey yourself. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back at school yet, Mr. recovering from a dog attack.”

“Yeah well,” Terry presses a kiss to the top of her head, “I just couldn’t bare to sacrifice my education.”

Dana laughs. “Yeah right. Like you actually want to listen to Mr. Eiten talk about the science of concrete for an hour.”

Terry chuckles. “You got me there.” He pulls away and laces their fingers together. They walk in comfortable silence and Dana is the most relaxed she’s been in months.

Batman is still alive. She had been worried when he wasn’t sighted for a few weeks after the night in her room, but he popped up here and there after a while. She doesn’t know what happened and she’s not sure she wants to know. She nearly had someone die in her arms, she had fallen off a building and been in a car chase and beaten up gangsters. The police still don’t know who kidnapped Matt, she still doesn’t know why Terry was getting hurt, and she still doesn’t want to think about it.

She just wants to be here and now, to walk with Terry and feel his hand in hers and not worry about anything else.

Is that so much to ask?

Dana squeezes Terry’s hand and looks up at him. He glances over and smiles warmly, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

Is it so much to ask to be comfortable and happy and normal?

An old car squeals to a halt next to them, the doors open, and in the next second Dana is being yanked up into thick gray arms.

Terry tries to grab her back but he’s knocked to one side by a knotted hand the size of a tire. Dana writhes and screams and she can feel laughter brushing against the top of her head, deep laughter, a voice she remembers.

Charles “Big Time” Bigelow wraps one hand around her throat, each of his fingers thicker than her arm, and begins to squeeze. He smells like burnt rubber and stale chemicals but all Dana can focus on is the air being pushed out of her lungs.

In the next moment there’s a blur of movement and Bigelow stumbles with a grunt. Then two more accompanied by the sound of quick punches. He lets go of Dana and she lands in someone else’s arms before being set gently on the pavement.

She catches her breath, coughing and gasping before she looks up and loses it all over again.

Terry is fighting Big Time. And he’s winning. He moves faster than she’s ever seen him move, vaulting off of street lights and Big Time himself, landing punches and kicks in quick succession.

Dana can’t believe her eyes. She just watches, completely dumbstruck.

Terry punches Big Time twice in the jaw as he soars over him. He lands on the car and pushes off, using his momentum to flip Big Time onto his side with a loud thump. Big Time lets out a grunt and goes limp, eyes fluttering shut. Terry steps back, chest heaving, nostrils flaring, and glances up. Their eyes meet and Terry freezes.

One second.

The fighting.

Two seconds.

The injuries.

Three seconds.

You need to focus on the mission Terry.

They’re the same. They’re the same person.

Terry is Batman.

***

She helps haul Big Time into the back of the car after Terry finds its keys and the two of them drive in silence to the GCPD. The engine sputters and the seats are worn out but it’s fine. Terry calls ahead to the precinct.

They don’t look at each other once.

Commissioner Gordon meets them outside with a squad to get Big Time properly restrained and then leads them inside. She tells Dana to stay in the waiting room while she talks to Terry but Dana excuses herself after a few minutes.

She finds a bench out front and sits down. The air is warm and fresh. It smells like hover fuel and the stream of cars passing by the precinct is slowing as the last stragglers from rush hour finally make their way home.

Dana reaches up to rub the sore area around her neck. The bruising has set in and she knows she’s going to be feeling it more in the next few hours. She swallows thickly around the ball of stress in her throat, feeling it squeeze in response, tight and hot, like every breath is the line between her and a breakdown.

Dana drops her hand back down and sighs, leaning further back into the bench. What a way to end the day. She’d been relaxed, she’d been happy, and something just had to ruin it. Her jaw is clenched and the muscles all along her arms and legs are taught. Her eyes are warm with barely restrained tears but she doesn’t know why.

She doesn’t have a problem with Terry being Batman, she liked both of them to begin with, and it’s not like she’s adverse to stress or danger, the last few months alone prove that. So maybe it’s the fact that they aren’t separate anymore.

Terry isn’t normal and safe, Batman isn’t a faceless person she can detach herself from when things get too stressful, they’re one in the same now. Sure, she’d bonded with Batman and seen Terry get out of bad situations, but the two still didn’t cross over for her. Terry was Terry and Batman was Batman.

Looking back she can see the signs though. Familiar things she noticed about Batman when they talked, or Terry showing up when Batman left and vice versa. Not that it makes it any easier to understand, it just makes her head hurt.

Dana hears the precinct door open and shut with a soft click.

“Hey.” Terry sits down next to her, “Didn’t know where you went for a minute there.”

Dana hums slightly in acknowledgement, her fingers tapping nervously against her knee.

“Babe… you okay? We can go see a doctor if you want, see about those bruises.”

Dana nods gently and takes a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Terry smiles nervously. “What do you mean?”

“That you’re Batman, Terr.”

He stiffens before his shoulders sag and he lets out a long breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Were you going to tell me at all?”

“I was, I just thought—“

“I mean this has been going on for years right? How long did you think you could keep this from me?”

“Dana—“

“I almost saw you die, Terry, you were bleeding all over my carpet! I thought you were in a gang for heaven’s sake, I thought you were… oh my god.” The tears start to fall, small and slow, little drops sliding over her lashes and cheeks. “What if I wasn’t there to save you? What if you go after some villain next week or next month and you get slagged? How am I supposed to deal with that if you never told me?”

Terry takes her hands firmly in his and starts rubbing her fingers with the pad of his thumb. His touch is warm and careful, and Dana slowly feels herself start to calm down.

“I was going to tell you today, actually. Take you out someplace nice and talk about it over dinner. Didn’t exactly turn out that way though, huh?”

Dana chuckles softly, reaching up to wipe her face.

Terry lifts her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “I should’ve told you sooner, I’m so sorry Babe. You helped me out a lot with the Matt case and I should’ve trusted you more to begin with. But I’m here now, if you wanna talk or ask me stuff or just slap me in the face.”

Dana laughs a bit louder, kissing his cheek. “That’s tempting but I think you’ve been through enough.” She sits back and looks at his face. Just looks.

He’s filled out a bit since high school, he’s broader, his hair a little longer, but he’s still the same Terry he’s always been, and he’s… Batman. Dana runs a finger along a healing scratch on his cheek.

Batman.

“Terr?”

“Yeah?”

“What… who have you been fighting?”

Terry shifts a bit, his brows drawing together. “Like recently?”

“Who’s been doing everything the past few months. The club, Matt… you know.”

Terry’s mouth makes a soft oh. “I’m not really… clear on all the details.” He says, settling back and pausing a moment before talking again. “When Matt first disappeared I couldn’t find anything. No one had seen him and no one had a grudge against me. Terry me. After we got attacked that night on the roof, Wayne smelled something rotten, so I used some of my connections in the underground to ask around. Found out it’s a new gang, call themselves the Riders. They’ve been given a bunch of high tech weapons, real schway shit, expensive. The old man thinks it might be prototype stuff from Luthor Enterprises, but we don’t know yet. So, I went after them. People told me where their base was, and I went, and… next thing I know they’ve slashed me open like a thanksgiving turkey. I should’ve known better. I couldn’t take them alone the first time, don’t know why I thought it would be different.”

Dana squeezes his hand a bit tighter.

“I knew their leader had something against Terry McGinnis, since they attacked me once and then kidnapped my family, but I didn’t know who it was,” Terry takes a deep breath, “until now.”

“Big Time?”

He nods. “We’ll know after the interrogation, but I think my original hunch was spot on. We didn’t exactly leave off on the best of terms. I was the reason Charlie’s gang gig got slagged, and knowing him, he’s sure to carry a grudge. Plus, I’m looking into a possible cover up by Luthor Enterprises. A few shipments went missing in September, right around when Charlie would have had to start putting the gang together, which accounts for the weapons.”

“So kidnapping Matt, going after Batman, going after me, it was all to hurt you?”

Terry smiles awkwardly. “Pretty screwed up huh?”

Dana nods, averting her eyes. She’d forgotten for a moment. She had looked at Terry and it had slipped her mind for just a second that things had changed.

Dana rubs her throat again and remembers the way he fought, the way he moved. She remembers all the times he had to ditch dates and outings, the times in high school where he fell asleep during class. She remembers the weight of the body as she lowered Batman into his seat, red melting into red.

That was Terry.

Dana reaches out to hold his hand and takes a deep breath.

“What now?” She asks.

Terry smiles, his eyes soft, his dimples poking into his cheeks, and helps her to her feet.

“Burgers?”

Dana laughs, her voice a bit hoarse, and kisses his cheek.

“Only if I get to see the Batcave.”

“Yeah yeah.” Terry swings their arms back and forth as they start off down the sidewalk.

“I love you, by the way. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah Terr. I love you too.”

Dana had forgotten, but the moment has passed and it doesn’t matter. Terry is still the same person she’s always known. They’d gone through rough patches but he always worked to make things better. Now she knows he does that for the whole city.

So Dana is content, content with talking, content with waiting, content with seeing what the future holds, seeing what lies beyond.

#batman beyond #terry mcginnis #dana tan #fic #fanfic #my fic #dc

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

For Your Safety, Chapter Eight (Branjie) - Kite

Potentially spoilery authors note.

A/N: I hope this heals some hearts tonight! Please enjoy x

***

Brooke sips her whiskey sour nervously as she settles into the luxurious leather arm chair beneath her. Even after all the times that she’s been here, she still feels self conscious. Small groups of people, mostly men, sit dotted around the room, but Brooke sits alone, wiping her sweaty palm over the material of her tight black jeans.

The lights dim and the music swells. Some of the men can be heard cheering, but most are silent with anticipation.

Then, the women walk out onto the stage.

Exotic dancers.

Brooke’s eyes flare wide and her breath hitches in her throat as the dancer she’s here to see catches her eye, then moves across the stage to dance in front of her. To dance for her. A tingle of excitement runs down her spine.

The woman is gorgeous, truly magnificent, and she knows it.

Her hands roam over her petite body as she maintains eye contact with Brooke, then she grins widely and runs her tongue seductively across her teeth. She’s toying with the hem of her shirt in a cruel, slow, tease. After a few minutes of dancing, she pulls the shirt off over her head and tosses it behind her, then somehow, in her killer heels, she manages to hop down off the stage to dance immediately in front of where Brooke sits.

She runs her hands through her long, curly brown hair and flutters her eyelashes, feigning a look of innocence that has Brooke practically clawing at the armrest of her chair. Brooke takes a long slip of her drink, never breaking eye contact.

When the dancer loses her skirt, leaving her in skimpy panties, a bra and suspenders holding up silky black stockings, Brooke is unable to keep the smirk from her face. She’s perfect. Her body, the way she moves, her fucking eyes, it’s all so captivating. The dancer moves closer to her and Brooke takes out a one hundred dollar bill from her pocket. A small price to pay for such a treat. Once she is inches away from Brooke’s chair, Brooke leans out and delicately tucks the note into the woman’s waistband, rubbing her thumb over the soft, smooth skin as she does.

Then, unexpectedly, the dancer nudges Brooke back into her chair and moves to straddle her, with her knees on the seat cushion on either side of her thighs. Brooke gasps softly. The girl takes Brooke’s drink from her hand and sets it on the small table beside her, then resumes her slow, seductive, dancing, now in Brooke’s lap.

“I bet you do this for all the girls.” Brooke teases, her breath coming out low and raspy.

The dancer smiles coyly and shakes her head. “Just the cute ones.”

“Does that mean I get to take you home tonight?” She asks leaning upwards, resisting the urge to touch her.

“Oh, I don’t know, ma’am.” The girl drawls, sending shivers down Brooke’s spine. She leans in so close that Brooke can feel her warm breath on her neck. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate somebody taking what belongs to her.”

Brooke’s eyes flutter shut. “God, Ness.” She moans, caving to temptation and bringing her hands to rest delicately on her thighs.

“Hi, baby.” Vanessa whispers, pulling back from the crook of her neck and flashing her a wide grin. “I didn’t know you were coming in tonight.”

“It’s been a slow night so they let me get off early.”

Brooke grazes her nails softly up the side of Vanessa’s thighs, knowing that it’s driving her wild. She’s careful to keep it light and subtle, as, if some of the bars other clients see Brooke’s hands on one of the dancers, they might get the wrong idea and start getting handsy themselves. But it’s so unbelievably hard for Brooke to have her half naked girlfriend girating in her lap and be unable to do anything about it.

“What time do you finish?” Brooke asks quietly.

Vanessa grins widely. “We can get out of here now if-“

She hasn’t even finished her sentence before Brooke is nodding quickly, smirking from ear to ear.

Vanessa gets down from Brooke’s lap, holds out her hand for Brooke to stand with her, leads her through the crowded bar then subtly through the doorway into the back.

As they navigate the corridors, Vanessa exchanges greetings with everyone they pass, making Brooke practically beam with pride. Vanessa is brimming with energy and able to make all of her friends laugh, even after hours of dancing. Seeing Vanessa with her newfound friends makes Brooke especially happy since it’s one of the many ways she’s been able to settle into life in Toronto. Brooke knows Vanessa is feeling more and more like she belongs every day.

Most of the girls know Brooke’s name too and say hello to her, which is a vast improvement from when Vanessa had started working at the bar and the girls were too weary of having a cop in the building to even give her the time of day. She’s glad that she’s managed to gain their trust over time.

“You gonna go see Nina while I change real quick?” Vanessa asks when they reach the dressing room door.

Brooke leans down to peck Vanessa’s cheek. “Sure thing baby.”

-x-

“They really like her, you know.” Nina smiles warmly from where she sits behind her desk.

Brooke chuckles. “Of course they do, she’s smoking hot.”

“Um, I meant the other girls, not the customers.” Nina smirks, raising her eyebrow.

Brooke’s face flushes red with embarrassment and she awkwardly clears her throat while Nina laughs. “Right, yes, of course.”

Brooke has known Nina since they were young girls taking dance classes together at the local community centre. Obviously, Brooke gave up on her childhood dreams of being a ballerina, but Nina took her dance skills and pursued an alternate career path. She’s now the owner of one of the most successful strip clubs in Toronto, so, when Vanessa had been struggling to find a job with her limited skill set, Brooke was glad that she’d kept in touch with her old friend.

Nina gave Vanessa a trial position as a dancer at the bar just over ten months ago and she has been here ever since.

The best thing about the job is that Vanessa is able to do something that she does incredibly well. She’s incredibly sexy and knows how to use that to her advantage. After a few lessons in dancing, she’s now able to take home a very admirable income.

Plus, Brooke can rest in the assurance that she’s safe. All of the girls look out for each other and Nina watches over them all. None of the customers are allowed to touch Vanessa, or any of the other dancers. She’s never alone with them. And she isn’t doing anything illegal, so the police can be called in an emergency. She’s safe. Knowing that is doing wonders for Brooke’s anxiety.

“Honestly though Brooke, she just lights up a room. And she’s making the bar a fuckload of money, so thank you for sending her my way.”

Brooke blushes and grins back at Nina. “She’s pretty special.”

“I’m really happy for you.” Nina says so sincerely that it makes Brooke’s heart ache. “You deserve this.”

Brooke is about to respond when she hears a loud knock at the door behind her. “I know you bitches are talkin bout me so I’m just gonna wait here till you’re done.” Vanessa yells brashly. Brooke chuckles and shakes her head affectionately. That’s her girl.

“Don’t let me keep you.” Nina tells her with a knowing smile.

Brooke thanks her quickly, promises that they can catch up properly soon, then leaves the office. She’s unable to keep the grin from her face when she sees Vanessa in the corridor. Her brown wig and heavy makeup are gone and she is wearing black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that reaches her mid thigh. She’s also swapped her stiletto heels for flat pumps, but since Brooke is wearing heels of her own, she seems much smaller.

“Come on.” Brooke grins, taking Vanessa by the hand and practically dragging her to where her car is parked in the alley behind the bar. When they reach the car, Brooke glances both ways to make sure that there is nobody around, then quickly opens the door and pulls Vanessa into the backseat.

“What are we-“ Vanessa is cut off by Brooke’s lips on hers. She’s quick to respond and she clambers into Brooke’s lap, kissing her back with equal ferocity. Brooke’s hands roam over Vanessa’s body, making up for the time spent inside being unable to touch her.

As they kiss, Brooke snakes her hands underneath Vanessa’s baggy jumper, curling one arm firmly round her waist and bringing the other up to cup her breast over her bra. Brooke moans as she realises Vanessa has changed out of her underwear from before and is now wearing her soft, white cotton bra. She can tell by the little bow in the centre, she could recognise this bra anywhere. It’s her favourite of Vanessa’s, after all.

Sure, lacy lingerie and stockings make Vanessa look like a goddess, but to Brooke, there’s nothing more sexy than simple white cotton. In her eyes, Vanessa doesn’t need anything, no lace, no frills, to enhance her natural beauty.

“You danced so good tonight, baby girl.” Brooke sighs against Vanessa’s lips between kisses, then drops her hand from around Vanessa’s waist down to cup her ass. Meanwhile, her hand on Vanessa’s breast nudges the material of her bra down so that she can toy with her nipple.

“Brooke.” Vanessa whimpers. “Please.” She grinds down in her lap for emphasis. “ Quiero que me cojas .”

Brooke never considered herself to have any kinks, until a few months ago when Vanessa begged her to be fucked in Spanish, and since then she can’t get enough of it. It’s drives her wild and the little minx knows it. “Fuck.” She breathes out. She moves her hand from Vanessa’s ass to her hip, where she dips her finger into the waistband of her leggings.

“ Por favor, Mami.” Vanessa drops her hands to the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head in one swift motion, then drops it, letting it fall into the footwell behind her.

Brooke can never keep the game of teasing going for very long, she’s just about to give in, but then a bright set of headlights illuminate Vanessa’s face from behind the car.

“Fuck.” Vanessa mutters as she scrambles to get down from Brooke’s lap. Brooke hears a thump on the roof as Vanessa hits her head, causing her to curse loudly. “Fucking damnit, Mary!”

Brooke laughs as she attempts to pull Vanessa into her arms and sink down against the seat so that whoever is behind them can’t see them. Brooke is still a cop, after all, and being arrested for public indecency because they can’t keep it in their pants until they get home would be less than ideal. “Shush.” She giggles, reaching for Vanessa’s discarded sweater as the smaller woman continues to grumble and rub her head.

She feels like a high school kid getting caught making out in the backseat. It’s so exciting and naughty, she can’t help but laugh as she wraps her arms around Vanessa whilst they slump low and out of view.

After a couple of minutes of waiting and sneaking a few more soft kisses between giggles, Brooke decides that the danger of getting caught has passed. As though on queue, she hears Vanessa yawning quietly against her neck. “Time to go home?” Brooke smirks, then drops a kiss onto Vanessa’s forehead when she nods.

Brooke leaves the backseat to get into the front, but Vanessa simply clambers over the centre console. She feels a gentle pang in her chest as she remembers the first time Vanessa was in her car, over a year and a half ago, when she’d climbed into the front seat in the same way.

Some things never change.

When she gets back into the car, she leans over and pecks Vanessa’s temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Vanessa beams back at her.

-x-

“Ness, we’re home.” Brooke tells her, shaking her softly to rouse her from her sleep. She dozed off against the window almost as soon as Brooke started driving.

Despite the fact that Vanessa loves her job, one of the problems is that dancing for hours and finishing late leaves her exhausted. Brooke tries to sign up for night shifts whenever she can, so that they can spend more time together during the day, but it still sucks.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you to bed.”

Vanessa yawns and stretches before nodding and unclipping her seatbelt.

Once in the apartment, they quickly set about their respective nighttime routines. Brooke clears up any mess that they’ve made whilst Vanessa puts out fresh food and water for the cats, scratching them both on the head as she does. They then shut the blinds, turn off the various outlets and lock the front door.

This is all done in relative silence as both are exhausted, but when they’re in the bathroom brushing their teeth, they stand side by side and making goofy faces at each other in the mirror.

“I think I prefer the duck egg blue to the sky blue.” Vanessa mumbles through a mouthful of toothpaste, reaching for the paint colour chart on the countertop. They’d decided to redecorate the bathroom a few weeks ago but had yet to decide on a colour of paint for the walls.

“Good choice, baby.” Honestly, Brooke can barely tell the difference between the two colours, but it’s important to Vanessa, so it’s important to her.

When she finishes brushing her teeth, Brooke moves to stand behind Vanessa and curls her arms around her waist. She then drops her face into the crook of her neck and kisses her softly. Brooke sighs deeply in content as she looks at them in the mirror, wrapped up in each other’s arms. “I love you.” She whispers and kisses Vanessa beneath her ear.

Vanessa covers Brooke’s hands with her own and leans back into her embrace, allowing her eyes to drift shut. Vanessa then tries, and fails, to stifle a yawn. “I think it’s time for us to go to bed.” Brooke chuckles.

They aren’t in bed for more than a few moment before Vanessa’s lips are on Brooke’s. Brooke grins into her mouth, drinking in the fresh, minty taste. She flips them quickly, so that Vanessa is pinned beneath her, and deepens the kiss. Usually, there’d be some sort of build up, but the combination of making out in the car and seeing Vanessa dancing has made Brooke insatiable.

After a few minutes of kissing however, Vanessa’s movements begin to slow and she starts to kiss with a little less enthusiasm. Brooke pulls back to look at her face and sees that her eyes are closed. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Vanessa shakes her head softly. “Nothing. Keep going.” She smiles, raising slightly for another kiss.

But after only a couple more seconds, her kisses begin to slow once more.

Brooke pulls away again, only to chuckle when she realises that Vanessa is falling asleep. “You can barely keep your eyes open.” Brooke smirks, moving to lay on her side next to Vanessa, who whimpers quietly at the loss.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles drowsily.

Brooke lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, then pulls Vanessa closer to her. Vanessa allows herself to be moved, nestling into the crook of Brooke’s neck, draping an arm over her waist and tangling their legs together.

She’s asleep within minutes.

Brooke really should go to sleep too, or she should lay here and enjoy the feeling of Vanessa cuddled against her, but unfortunately, she can’t help but let her anxiety take over.

Logically, she knows that Vanessa is exhausted and she didn’t fall asleep on purpose, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling self conscious.

She’s not worried about the attraction aspect. They’ve been together for almost a year and can still barely keep their hands of one another. Everything is perfect in that regard. What Brooke worries about is the thought that Vanessa might be getting bored of everything else.

She’s only just turned twenty six a couple of months ago and is tied into an incredibly domestic relationship. Brooke adores it, but what if Vanessa doesn’t? What if she worries that she’s wasting her twenties decorating the bathroom and buying brita filters when she could still be young and free?

It’s bullshit, Brooke knows it. She knows that Vanessa loves their life just as much as she does. But it doesn’t stop her from spiralling.

It doesn’t stop her from reaching to the bedside table for her phone, with the intention of proving to Vanessa that they aren’t old and boring. There’s still time for them to be young and carefree.

-x-

“Ness. Wake up.” Brooke whispers, her face on the pillow, inches away from Vanessa’s.

The morning sun streams in through the gap in the curtains, casting a golden light over Vanessa’s sleeping face. Brooke has barely slept all night, keeping herself awake with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, so the moment she saw Vanessa first begin to stir, she couldn’t resist waking her.

“Fuck off.” Vanessa grumbles, burying her face further into the pillow.

Brooke giggles and tickles Vanessa’s side, then trails soft kisses over her bare shoulder and collar. “I have something exciting to tell you.”

“They making a sequel to The Notebook?” She aks, squinting one eye open.

“That’s what you think is exciting? You’re such a loser. I love you.”

“Shut up.” Vanessa groans, stretching out her limbs, then she snuggles into Brooke’s side.

Brooke shakes her shoulder gently then tickles behind her ear. “Don’t go back to sleep. I meant it, I have something exciting to tell you.”

“This better be damn good, Mami, or I will whoop your ass for waking me up.” She murmurs into Brooke’s neck.

“We’re going to Aruba.”

Vanessa moves back just enough to raise her eyebrow skeptically at Brooke. “Right now?”

Brooke laughs and swats her arm playfully. “No not right now… next week.”

“Wait, bitch are you serious?”

“Completely serious.”

Vanessa sits up, now looking a lot more awake. “Like serious, serious? For real? We’re actually going to Aruba next week?”

Brooke nods and grins back at her, relishing in the sudden look of pure joy on her face. Vanessa beams, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why?”

“Think of it as an early anniversary present.”

“When did you-”

“I booked it last night. I wanted to surprise you but I couldn’t wait.”

“Damn, Brooky, couldn’t keep that shit a secret for even two minutes, could you?” Vanessa laughs loudly, tickling Brooke’s side. She nudges Brooke back into the mattress, peppering her with kisses, but then she pulls back again. “Wait, what about work?”

“The Sergeant owes me a favour for all the night shifts I’ve been covering, and I’ve already text Nina for you. It’s all taken care of. We’re going on vacation baby.”

-x-

“You’d better get that damn camera out of my face I swear to god.” Brooke grumbles as she checks her seatbelt for the fifteenth time. The air hostess has just finished the safety announcements, which were essentially just a list of all the ways that they could die on this flight, so Brooke’s anxiety is wreaking havoc on her mind.

Brooke hates flying, she always has. She doesn’t see the appeal of being crammed inside a metal tube that’s hurling at five hundred miles per hour through the sky. Vanessa, on the other hand, has been a bundle of excitement since they left the apartment four hours previously. Usually, she loves Vanessa’s energy and enthusiasm for life, but right now, all Brooke can focus on is the location of the closest emergency exit.

Plus, it’s six thirty in the morning.

“One more.” She pleads, flashing Brooke her best puppy dog eyes.

“One.” Brooke pouts, burying her face in the Vanessa’s shoulder when she tries to take the selfie.

“Brooke, you can’t even see your face in this picture, I gotta take it again.”

“Damn it Ness! This has got to be the hundredth photo you’ve taken this morning. Can’t we have one undocumented moment of this fucking trip?”

Vanessa’s smile falters momentarily and Brooke cringes as she regrets her harsh tone, then Vanessa lets out a short sigh as she smiles with her face full of understanding. “You take your xanax before we left?” She asks quietly, taking Brooke’s hand and rubbing her thumb over the knuckles.

Brooke lets out a deep breath and rubs her free hand over her face. “I did, but I don’t think it’s kicked in yet. Sorry for being an asshole.”

Vanessa shrugs and curls into Brooke’s side. “Its okay, I’ll try and tone it down until after the flight.”

Brooke shakes her head quickly. “No, you’re excited, you shouldn’t have to tone that down. I’m excited too, just feeling a little blehhgh.” She makes a noise like the verbalisation of a shrug combined with a grimace, but luckily Vanessa is fluent in Brooke.

“I know, baby.” She smirks, lacing their fingers together.

Brooke takes a few deep breaths to try and regain her focus, then turns to Vanessa with a smile. “How about we try taking that last photo again?”

-x-

The first thing Brooke does when they reach the room is take a shower to get rid of the grimy feeling that travelling always seems to give her, so that she can start to relax. But when she exits the bathroom, she sees that the entire contents of Vanessa’s case is strewn across the bedroom. Vanessa has a very different idea of relaxation.

Brooke crosses the room, traversing the various items of clothing on the floor. “Jesus Ness, how many swimsuits did you bring?” From the looks of it, Vanessa will be wearing nothing but swimsuits all week, not that Brooke would mind that.

She sees Vanessa on the balcony. The mid afternoon sun bounces off her hair and illuminates her skin, and the sheer kaftan that she’s wearing is just translucent enough to show an outline of her bikini underneath. Brooke’s breath hitches in her throat as she walks to Vanessa and wraps an arm around her waist from behind, holding up her towel with the other.

She’s incredibly glad that she paid more for a room with a sea view. It couldn’t be more perfect.

Vanessa turns in Brooke’s embrace, so that they’re facing one another, then unashamedly drags her eyes down the length of Brooke’s body. “Hi.” She whispers, dropping one hand to Brooke’s waist and bringing up the other to trace patterns on her exposed collarbones.

“Hi.” Brooke says softly back.

“You feelin better?”

Brooke nods and sighs deeply as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind Vanessa’s ear. “So much better.”

At that, Vanessa smirks devilishly. “This balcony is might private. I don’t think nobody is seeing what’s going on up here.”

“It sure is.” Brooke grins, running her tongue slowly over her teeth.

“So if I do… this” She swipes at Brooke’s towel, pulling it from her body and letting it drop to the floor. “Nobody can see.”

“Nobody but you, baby.” Brooke whispers, leaning down to kiss her.

Their kiss heats up quickly and Vanessa begins shedding her clothes as they step backwards towards the conveniently located double sunbed behind them. They tumble onto it together in a passionate frenzy of lips on lips, lips on skin, skin on skin.

Maybe it’s something about the sea air, or the excitement of being on vacation, but they went from zero to one hundred in an instant.

It’s tantalizing.

-x-

“Fuck.” Vanessa breathes out as she lays on her back, looking up at the sky.

Brooke kisses back up the length of her body and settles down beside her. “That good?” She teases and tickles Vanessa’s side as she tries to catch her breath.

She nods between pants, grinning widely.

They lay together, basking in the sunlight for what seems like an eternity, until Brooke eventually decides that they ought to make the most out of their vacation. “How about we get dressed up and hit the clubs later?”

Vanessa looks at her sceptically. “The clubs? You hate clubbing.”

“No I don’t!” Brooke says, probably too defensively. “Please, baby. I want to.”

Vanessa shakes her head and chuckles, then shrugs. “I guess so.”

Brooke doesn’t hate clubbing, she just isn’t a fan of excessive drinking and sweaty, over crowded dance floors. She’s certain she can enjoy it for one night, since she’s so desperate to prove to Vanessa that she can be young and fun still. She knows that she doesn’t need to and that it’s just a needless goal she’s set herself based on anxiety fuelled over thinking, but it doesn’t stop her from being determined.

She quickly realises whilst they’re out that she’s made a mistake. Sure, she’s enjoying the mixture of tropical cocktails and Vanessa is making her laugh so hard she keeps snorting, but she’s also exhausted. Her feet are sore in her heels, the edges of the room are faintly spinning and the beat from the music is ringing in her ears. She’d much rather be hanging out in a quiet bar with Vanessa rather than this club.

God, if Vanessa knows that, she will think Brooke is such a loser.

So Brooke forces herself to keep going. To keep dancing. Keep drinking.

Shots. Followed by more cocktails. Then shots again.

“Did you know tequila is the the only alcohol that isn’t a depressant.” She slurs into Vanessa’s ear after they finish another shot each.

Vanessa laughs loudly back, resting her hand on Brooke’s chest. “Hoe, you told me that like six times now.” She yells over the music.

“Oh.” Brooke pouts, then sees Vanessa grinning so bursts out laughing too. She isn’t even sure what they’re laughing at, they’re just giggling uncontrollably, holding onto each other like they’re the only two people in the world.

Brooke buries her nose in Vanessa’s hair, inhaling the scent of their fruity shampoo. “You smell pretty.” She hears herself slurring, but she doesn’t register saying the actual words. Weird.

“You drunk as fuck, Mami.”

Brooke shakes her head. Or at least, she thinks she’s shaking her head. The room is spinning so much it’s hard to tell. “No you’re drunk.” She retorts, like a petulant child, causing Vanessa to erupt into brash, gravelly laughter once more.

“I can’t argue with that.” She yells over the music.

“We should… get more alcohol?” Brooke suggests with a grin. “And more tequila. Did you know tequ-”

“Don’t you start that shit again.” Vanessa cuts her off before she has the chance to finish her fact. Brooke sticks out her lower lip in frustration. “One more shot.” Vanessa grins, tickling her side.

One more shot turns into two. Then three.

Brooke hasn’t been this drunk in years. It’s so liberating. Nothing else in the world matters. Nothing in Aruba matters. Nothing in the club matters. Just the feeling of Vanessa’s body pressed up against hers as they sway messily in time with the music.

Vanessa is her whole world.

“I love you. You’re my favourite person.” Brooke yells over the noise, leaning in close to Vanessa’s ear.

Then gradually, the sounds and lights around her fade to nothing.

-x-

When Brooke wakes up, the first thing that hits her is her blinding headache. She tries to move her hand up to press against her forehead but the motion makes her stomach churn. It’s too bright to open her eyes. Her mouth is as dry as sandpaper.

She may genuinely be dying.

“Morning sunshine.” She hears Vanessa’s booming voice somewhere in the room. Brooke groans in response.

She stretches out her legs, only to realise she is wearing shoes, so she forces herself to finally open her eyes. Vaguely, she recognises their hotel room, then looks down and sees she’s still wearing her dress from the night before. She groans once more and rolls over to bury her face in the pillow. “I’m dying.”

She hears Vanessa laugh as she walks across the room, followed by the sound of something being set down on the nightstand. “You aint dying, Mami, you hungover.”

“I’ve been hungover before, this is not a hangover. It’s death.”

Vanessa laughs again and Brooke feels the bed dip beside her, then Vanessa’s hand softly petting her hair. “You gotta drink this water.”

Brooke takes a few deep breaths so that she can be sure she won’t throw up, then turns round to face Vanessa. She’s wearing a matching pyjama shirt and shorts set, and looks as fresh a daisy. Brooke grimaces as she realises how awful she must look. Gratefully, she takes the water from Vanessa and takes three long gulps.

When she’s finished, Brooke sets the water back on the table, wipes her mouth ungracefully with the back of her hand, and flops back down onto the bed. “What happened last night?” She groans, dreading the answer.

She looks up and Vanessa chuckles. “You just had too much to drink, baby, that’s all.” She moves a little closer and presses the back of her hand against Brooke’s forehead. “You feeling okay?”

Brooke can only grimace and shake her head in response.

“You might feel better after a shower.”

The idea of moving from the bed sounds like the worst thing ever, but she also feels disgustingly sweaty and sticky and desperately needs a wash, so reluctantly, she agrees. Once in the bathroom, she winces at her disheveled state in the mirror and Vanessa laughs loudly as she comes to unzip her dress.

“Why am I still wearing this thing?” She grumbles as she toes off her shoes and lets Vanessa nudge her straps off her shoulders.

Vanessa looks up at her through the mirror and quirks her eyebrow with a grin. “You don’t remember?”

Brooke shakes her head and tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to chew on it nervously.

“Bitch you were slapping my hands away all crazy like, telling me you got a girlfriend so I wasn’t allowed to undress you.”

Brooke’s cheeks burn red with embarrassment. “Oh god.” She groans.

Vanessa laughs and nudges her playfully. “Drunk Brooke sure is loyal, that’s for sure.”

“Hey, sober Brooke is loyal too!”

“Yeah but like, drunk Brooke is extra loyal. Even when you were so out of it you couldn’t recognise my face you were still thinking bout me.”

“I’m always thinking about you.” Brooke tells her softly. Genuinely.

Once in the shower, Brooke begins to feel the grime of her hangover drift away. Vanessa leans up on her toes to wash Brooke’s hair and cover her chest and neck with kisses, and Brooke all but purrs in content. She tries not to think about how embarrassed she is about not only getting blackout drunk, but being the only one to have a terrible hangover.

Afterwards, they wrap themselves up in the largest towels they can find and head out to the balcony, where they lay tangled together, baking under the mid morning sun.

“Last night was different.” Vanessa laughs. She lays on her back with Brooke’s head on her chest and traces delicate patterns on her back.

“Good different?”

Vanessa chuckles again. “I had fun.”

Brooke can sense Vanessa is holding something back, so she worries that maybe it’s because she’s embarrassed. Or maybe she realises that Brooke is a complete loser who can’t handle her drink properly. Either way, it brings that sickening anxious feeling to the pit of her stomach.

“We could go out again tonight, if you want?”

Vanessa sighs deeply. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. What do you mean?” Brooke stammers. Vanessa untangles herself from Brooke’s arms and sits up, so Brooke props herself up a little too. Brooke’s eyebrows furrow with worry and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth.

“All this.” Vanessa gestures around them. “Booking a vacation without planning it first. Getting drunk then tryna go out and do it again, even though your ass been dying all morning. This isn’t you.”

She doesn’t really know why, but tears spring to the corner of Brooke’s eyes. “It can be me, if you want it to be.” She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I can be fun and spontaneous. I’m not old.”

Vanessa laughs loudly and Brooke’s face is flush with embarrassment. She’s about to get up to go back inside when Vanessa grabs her wrist. “No, baby, I’m not laughing at you.” She says through giggles. “But that’s what this is about? You think you’re old?”

“Too old for you.” Brooke murmurs and suddenly Vanessa’s face is a little more serious.

She’s sighs and leans in to cup Brooke’s cheek with her hand. “What’s brought this on?”

Brooke shrugs and looks away, desperately trying not to cry. “We’re just so domestic and comfortable now. I don’t want you to get bored.”

Vanessa shakes her head and smiles in disbelief. “Brooke, do you think that if I wanted to spend my life drinking and acting the fool and doing stupid shit that I would’ve fallen in love with you? I love our life. Nothing is more exciting to me than picking out tile patterns for our bathroom or taking care of our kitties. I never thought I would get a life like this.” She’s stops speaking when she sees Brooke crying, and pulls her tightly against her chest. “It’s okay, baby.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking that you’ve got to do all kinda shit to make me happy, when all I ever need to make me happy is you.” She kisses Brooke’s forehead gently. “I just want to spend the rest of this vacation with the real you, okay?”

“Okay.”

And that’s exactly what they do.

They visit the open air spa and get luxurious massages. They have long, gentle strolls along the beach, taking photographs and picking up interesting sea shells. They visit the local village in the day time, then spend the evenings curled up in each other’s arms on the sunbed of their balcony, watching the sunset on the horizon.

And they talk, really talk, finding out new things about each other every day. All the little things that they haven’t learnt over the past year.

It’s perfect.

Brooke never wants it to end.

On their last evening, Brooke sits with her back propped up against pillows on the sunbed, with Vanessa’s head in her lap. She fell asleep almost an hour ago and Brooke has been playing with her hair ever since, weaving her fingers through the strands and dragging her nails gently over her scalp, in the way that she knows she loves.

Idly, she tries to think about her life before Vanessa, but she genuinely can’t remember what it was like. Who did she talk to when she couldn’t sleep at 4am? How did she spend her weekends? Where did she channel all the intense, unconditional love she feels burning inside of her?

This has been the best year of her life.

Way back when they met, Brooke could’ve taken a different turning and never seen Vanessa on that street corner. Or when she was getting worked up about their relationship, if Vanessa wasn’t so resilient, she could’ve pushed her away for good. The thought just doesn’t bare thinking about.

On some level, Brooke likes to believe that even if things would’ve worked out differently in the beginning, they still would’ve ended up where they are now. She’s never been a big believer in astrology or fate, but maybe she can get on board with the idea that two people destined to be together will always find their way to one another, no matter the difficulties.

Brooke and Vanessa are perfect for one another. They balance each other. They complete each other.

After a little while, Brooke notices Vanessa stir as she starts to wake up. Her eyes twitch and Brooke strokes her cheek with the pad of her thumb as she comes to. When her eyes open, there’s a very brief flicker of confusion, but then she catches Brooke’s eye and her lips form a huge, dopey grin.

Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but still she smiles, flashing her perfect white teeth.

It’s breathtaking.

Brooke realises in that moment that she could never, ever, love anyone more.

“Marry me?”

“What?” Vanessa mumbles sleepily.

She didn’t hear her. Brooke could say something different, it’s her chance to take it back. To make sure this is what she really wants. They’ve only been together for a year, it’s way too soon to propose.

No.

This is right. It feels right.

Brooke is certain.

“Marry me?” She asks again, more assuredly this time.

Vanessa’s grin widens and shakes her head in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

Brooke sits up properly and Vanessa follows, so that they are cross legged in front of one another, with their fingers linked in the middle.

“I didn’t plan this. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll get you one the minute we get home. Any ring you want.”

Fuck. She’s rambling about the ring and Vanessa hasn’t even said yes yet.

“I love you.” She continues. “I love our life. And I know we haven’t been together long, but I will never love anyone as much as I love you. I’m so fucking sure about this. So, Vanessa Mateo, will you-“

“Yes!” Vanessa blurts out, then crashes their lips together.

Of course Vanessa would be too excited to let Brooke finish the question.

Brooke wouldn’t have it any other way.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #smut #lesbian au #police au #kite #tw alcohol #submission #for your safety

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wynne-keyler · 6 years ago

Text

A kind of review of Orphan Black Season one.

So I literally just finished season 1 of Orphan Black and JAYZUZ what a rollercoaster this series is.

The best part is how it doesn't take itself too seriously, but it makes sure to never jump the shark either.

So these are my thoughts so far:

⚫ Delphine, aka the femme fatale.

Delphine is an obvious curve ball from the moment she steps on screen. She drove me up the wall but I'm glad she kept Kira (the only child borne to a clone) a secret.

I've seen some spoilers so I know she's gonna stick around but I don't like her very much right now. I want someone to cut her if she ever uses Cosima again.

She's obviously a fucked up and it's going to take a lot for her goddamn way back if that's where it's heading.

I was so fucking angry with her...but damn when that music started to swell in episode 10 when she came to ask Cosima for forgiveness again in Felix' apartment and she said I'm on your side I was like...yes please?!! Please don't be a villain??!!

Idk I'm so conflicted about her.

⚫The dudes.

All of them are kind of secondary characters, but besides Mr. effeminate,the detective, and Allison's husband Donnie; they're all psychos. Complete and utter psychopaths with cold emotionless eyes (especially Paul's).

Speaking of Donnie, he pisses me off too but he's looks like a chubby suburban Clark Kent so I keep forgiving him.

And he did stand up for Allison eventually at the intervention, despite her torturing him for information earlier.

⚫The clones.

I'm someone that's admittedly a bit hypersensitive to lacklustre and bad acting, but what Tatiana Maslany has achieved with the clones she plays is incredible.

HER ABILITY TO EMOTE IS OUT OF THIS WORLD. And it feels like such a rare ability these days, most actresses seem more interested in vogue-ing (like Kiera knightly in pirates of the Caribbean).

The clones all have unique mannerisms and voices, and they're all feminine in so many different ways. They truly come across as real multifaceted people. All while most other female characters in media seem to be complete cardboard cutouts.

It's almost as if these women were written as people first and women second

Sometimes I did felt like she exaggerated their unique mannerisms just a biiit too much, but it was only really noticeable when you binged the episodes.

Absolutely incredible performance!

Allison Hendrix (the Curling/Soccer mom clone) is one of my favourite characters right now. Mostly because of her badass moment during the intervention when she told everyone off for snooping into her life!) but boy was she difficult to like in the beginning.

Also she's kind of terrifying. I don't want to be on her bad side. Ever.

What she did to Ainsley, I think they're setting it up that she actually wasn't the monitor but who fucking cares. Fuck Ainsley, she was so creepy and invasive.

Cosima is... definitively the hot one.

Although for supposedly being "the smart one" she sure doesn't act very smart. She walked into the Delphine debacle knowingly. Idk how I feel about that. If she's horny she should have dated someone else! Goddamn it why did she have to have her heart broken?

Anyway, she's clearly got more going on than just being smart, so I can't wait to learn more about her and her background.

Sarah Manning is of course my ultimate fave, frigging action clone, Tom boyish, a rebel, and the one actually getting shit done.

I kind of hate her drug addict past but I guess it's a necessary evil to make her stand out and explain her general devil may care attitude?

I just feel like it's unnecessary. Maybe it's because I'm a child of addicts but I just find them sympathetic or interesting AT ALL.

I feel like her being a punk rock rebel would've been enough. She clearly gets her strength and attitude from her foster mother Siobhan (who waz finally on Sarah's side again but then just...up and left what was that about I'm so worried now).

Siobhan seemed like such a genuine veteran badass, I hope she's trustworthy.

Helena.

GOD I HATE HER STUPID ASS MUSIC QUE.

EEEEH AAAH ... EEEEH AHHH

I hope to fuck they stop with that annoying ass sound.

Also yeah I'm really curious about her life at the convent and how she was brainwashed to become a killer.

Beth Childs is obviously dead as fuck but BOI do I judge her life choices. She just fucking GAVE UP and left her sisters AND THEIR CHILDREN to the fucking wolves.

Also Katja (the German clone) was just a dead body not sure if she's even important.

SERIOUS SPOILERS (but who cares lol)

Rachel whoeverthefuck.

Just fuck her. She seems like a pure narcissistic bitch. I hope she dies for what she's let those bastards do to her twins/clones and their CHILDREN. She seems to ENJOY the whole situation.

Jfc. Despicable.

The entire scene between her and Sarah she seemed to enjoy the power her position as a glorified lapdog gives her.

Secondly, the way Sarah and Helena's birth mother turned out to be a surrogate was FUCKING BRILLIANT.

Of course it would be surrogates that would be taken advantage of for this experiment. It avoids any one scientist getting too attached and I'm sure the sperm and eggs were from two random, healthy anonymous donors.

10/10 plot twist.

______________

And that's pretty much it so far.

Just wOW. I've been missing out.

Getting into TV series is so much easier when you can just pirate episodes instead of having to wait for Nordic Netflix to give them to you 3 years after premier.

#orphan black

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cnc-hoebayb · 6 years ago

Text

Nos cae la noche y tu me abrazas..

I forgot to post this yesterday oops

Lol but here’s my little part for this cute collab @quisieracnco helped put together, so if y’all haven’t checked out her nye hc go check it out it’s perfect. Also i know that @cncohdamn already made a lil chris imagine for this too and it’s literally the cutest so go check that out babes!!

So here it goes, some mad cheesy stuff for your NYE 😘

**Y’all gotta read this shit while listening to the live version of Fiesta en Mi Casa- no exceptio ns!

You fiddle around with the straw in your drink as you sit backstage waiting. The dressing room was far, but the music was loud, giving you little goosebumps as you faintly hear the final song. You smile to yourself, feeling that some energy you had every time you heard that guitar riff.

The crowd goes crazy closer to the end and you cant hear anymore, something good must’ve happened. More screams and cheering is heard continuously, the song must have just ended. You gather your things quickly, knowing you were all gonna make a run for it as soon as they left the stage.

The performance was gonna be broadcasted through the city, it would be on every billboard and screen as the clock hit midnight. So you were prepared for when the boys stormed into the room, grabbing phones, jackets, and snacks before heading straight out into the cold city air.

You felt excited, waiting for that final moment of the year always left you with so much energy. And as you start to wonder if the butterflies in your stomach can get any faster, you’re caught off guard by a sudden hand on the small of your back.

You stare up into esos grandes ojos cafés and watch as they focus onto you. “Ya estás emocionada?” He asks and you nod with joy, “you already know it,” his hand still not moving from its place.

Chris wasn’t afraid to get close and be touchy with you, you thought; but this - this was different. Something off about this kind of touch. His hand had found a spot on the side of your waist, almost pulling you in possesively as you speed walked through the city.

Your thoughts must’ve shown through your expression because at that same moment, his cheeks flushed a little as he justified himself. “Parece que tienes frío....”

You smile and let him keep holding on. He guides you through the streets until you finally make it to a heavily crowded area in the middle of the block. There’s lights and screens illuminating the scene and it starts playing from the beginning of the prerecorded concert.

The boys all start cheering, hyping themselves up from the crowd. Richard and Erick are jumping and dancing, while Zabdiel and Joel are beatboxing over the beat of the song. You look up at Chris and he’s beaming, his eyes full of light.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” You nudge him with your shoulder. “It’s weird sometimes, but i like it yeah” he looks down at you and smiles one of those heartfelt ones you know he really means.

“Thanks for being here, by the way,” he looks at you sincerely, “you’ve helped us out a lot during tour too, i really appreciate all you do..”

“Aw Chris,” you respond shocked, not sure where the sudden sentiment came from. You had grown close with all the boys over the time span you’d worked with them, and it was easy. They accepted you not just because you were new, but because they genuinely liked spending time and having fun with you.

Chris would always find ways to remind you of that.

“I have a surprise for you..” he smirked and wiggled his brow, already back to his playful self. “Chris nooo,” you whined, “you know how impatient that makes me, you have to tell me noW!!” You jump up and down pulling at his arms, begging him to fess up.

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grounds you by placing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s something we’ve been working on lately.” You give him a mean look to express how much you hated that hint.

“Bro deadass what the fuck u mean,” you pout and he cackles like an idiot. “Guess you just gotta wait,” he turns away from you with a sly smile and watches the performance continue on the screen.

A few minutes pass and the set is almost over - meaning the year coming closer to an end as well. You watch as a few of the boys scope out the girls they’ve been eyeing to be their kiss. As they go up and work their flirty magic, touching hands to waists, whispering sweet nothings to these lucky girls.

“I’m surprised you’re not already out there with em,” you edge on Chris.

“Naw i already got my target planned out,” he says in a cocky tone and your heart drops a little. It wasn’t a secret your feelings for him had grown into something more than friendship. In your eyes he was perfect, everything was always so natural with him and you felt so comfortable, so how could you help yourself??

You nod solemnly and stare back at the screens, not wanting to make eye contact with him. The last song starts and your heart immediately skips a beat.

“Con tus caderas,

No necesitamos ni bombillos ni estrellas..”

A little smile creeps across your lips and you feel Chris look at you. “What is it about this song that even gets to you?” He laughs and questions. You shrug how you always did when someone asked you that.

“No sé, i just, me siento algo más de mi. Like I’m not even in my own body when i hear it, es como el cielo, like spiritual i guess.” He looks at you with his mouth wide open, defientely about to make fun of you.

“You sound like you’re high,” you nudge his shoulder and stick a tongue out. “I can’t believe you sing the damn song and don’t even get it.” You turn to him with a finger over your lips, “now shh i wanna listen,”

You close your eyes and feel the cold air against your skin, taking in every part of the music.

“Cuando estamos juntos el mundo se detiene..”

When you open your eyes back up you’re half expecting Chris to be gone, off to win over his notorious mystery girl for the night.

But your eyes flutter open and you’re shocked to see him standing there, closer than ever at your side. He hangs his arm over your shoulder and whispers “i think i know what you mean now, the way the song feels..” you nod with a smug look on your face.

He sways with you to the music and sings along when his part starts. You curl up into his arm, accepting it fully.

“Puedo ver planetas en el techooo” He sings to you playfully and you follow along.

“Hey that reminds me,” you start, “What the heck was everyone screaming about earlier, what did you guys do-“ he cuts you off with a hand on your mouth lightly.

“Shh, bebesita, that’s the surprise,” you lick his hand in retalliation and he wipes it off on your jacket.

Back up on the monitors you watch as the song breaks down to its last minute, the clock counting down as well. Your eyes light up as something new happens within the song. You scramble to look for Richard in the crowd as you hear it,

“Veremos lo que pasaa”

“ShiT!!” You scream and hit Chris’ arm. “You guys practiced, omg he did the high note,” he laughs and gently guides your head to look back up. “That’s not all,” he says and you’re lit up.

“Chris-“ you say unbelievably, “did you do it??” You refer to what you both knew what was about to happen. These little parts of the song were so new and so impactful, he had been too nervous to ever follow through live. His voice could do it easily, no doubt, it was just nerves holding back his full capacity sometimes.

He looks so excited and tries calming you down, “brooo just keep watching.”

You bounce to the breakdown of the beat and little bumps form on the surface of your skin - every time. The tension is in the air the closer it gets to what you’re expecting, and a mixture of the crowd around you counting down already.

“10

8”

The music goes,

“Seremos felices, eso dalo por hecho”

“5

4”

You grab onto Chris’ hand absentmindedly and he squeezes it back. His other hand instinctively grabbing onto the bottom of your jacket, slowly turning you to face him.

“Hay una fiesta en mi casaaaAaA”

“1..”

For some reason you feel tears swell up in your eyes. The essence of his voice continuing for what feels like forever. Every second of it resonates through your bones, in your blood, your soul, your whole being.

It’s everything you could want in this moment and you turn to Chris to say how proud you are of him and-

His lips crash to yours in a passionate mess. It’s an act of something that’s been building up too long, something that needed to be let go.

You give in to it, lost hopelessly under his spell. He’s soft and tender, everything you imagined this moment to be. You wrap your arms tightly around his torso and he holds your cheek.

It feels otherworldly, and you have no other motive than to make it last. The music rings through your head and everything becomes more magical. His lips press to yours in long intervals, each touch together has a million words behind it.

He tastes exactly how you imagined and you think that now you might be addicted. Slick lips part from each other and it feels like a movie scene.

Like you’re both in a little bubble that’s only meant for the two of you. Snow drizzles around the bubble and he holds you into his chest, rocking you as he sings lightly along..

“Nos cae la noche y tú me abrazas...”

The guitar feels like a lullaby while in his arms..

You smile and look back to him, humming along to his own harmony. You tip toe up and kiss him again, not wanting to ever stop. He giggles a little too humbly against you and you pull a strand of his hair to shut him up.

“Don’t ruin this,” you sass and he peppers your lips with soft fast smooches, holding your cheeks in his palms.

The music fades out from their perfect voices and nothing else matters. It’s just you, and Chris, and that perfect little bubble keeping everything stopped in time.

#wow i love cheesy shit yall #uwuwuwuwu #chris mi corazón #cnco #cnco imagine #feliz fin del año

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insane-control-room · 6 years ago

Text

La Vie

Full of imperfections.

These things should not get to him.

But they did.

Magenta is @halfusek‘s and this was fun to write for you :)

Joey felt unspeakably cold, like a chill had ebbed throughout his entire system. He grit his teeth, rubbing his arms.

Stupid kid making stupid comments.

That’s all they were. Just thoughtless remarks.

Nothing to them.

…

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

If they were just stupid comments, why would they hurt so bad?

He hunched over more, trying to force out the thoughts.

He was not messed up.

He was not.

Imperfect.

He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

No.

Just because some, some, some child called him not perfect did not mean he was.

No.

He was just fine.

He was better than fine!

He. Was. Better. Than. Good.

Liar.

No.

Shut up.

He was great.

Better than Bertrum, Bernie, Bertie, whatever the hell his name was. Better than him.

Better does not mean perfect.

He could almost hear the smile in the voice of whatever was taunting him.

He screamed within his own mind, drowning out anything else.

The scream morphed.

It was a chant now.

Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect! Imperfect!

You will never be perfect.

Sobs overtook him.

NO.

NO NO NO.

Perfection is attainable!

He could be!

He could be perfect!

He just had to… had to… had to….

Keep trying!

Yes! With enough hope and force, he could achieve perfection!

He just… had… to… keep….

He could not.

His shoulders fell.

He could not keep going.

He was done trying.

He could not keep it up.

He could no-

“Maggie,” the voice that resonated into wherever he was was so tender and sweet… it was questioning, unknowing, naive, and then the soft, sharp, gasp, and the hollow thunk of something hitting the floor. This was it. Johan would leave. He would never want to see him again. He would never want to see his imperfect shape ever again. Footsteps rushed to him. “Magenta! Darling, sweetheart, mi rey, what’s wrong? Please, oh no, mi amor, what’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth to reply.

Nothing.

He tried opening his eyes to see the man gently rubbing his shoulders and arms.

He could not.

“Oh, mi precioso…” Johan sighed, and he could tell that he was upset. Magenta cringed. He made him upset. Johan’s voice was thick and constricted when he spoke again. “It’s okay… everything is alright, right? Shh, mi cariño… breathe with me, in… and out…. And again….”

A few shuddering breaths passed between them.

“I’ll never be perfect,” he blurted. Johan’s hands on his arms paused in their rubbing. Magenta grit his teeth again, tasting blood as he bit through his cheek. “I’ll never make it. I’ll never be perfect. I can’t, I can’t….”

“Oh! Oh, mi rey, you, not perfect? Oh, darling, you are the most beautiful, most handsome, most extraordinarily perfect man I’ve ever met,” Johan’s forehead met his, his hand gently caressing his cheek, cupping his jawline. “Mi amor… don’t cry… don’t believe the lies they say… don’t believe the lies in your head….”

Magenta only managed a hiccuping sob, shaking.

“Sweetheart, come here, my darling, my perfect, beautiful, incredible Magenta, your eyes shine like the most pure and brilliant tsavorites with the most perfect cut, your hair is as silky and enrapturing as the deepest most perfect midnight sky, oh, your skin is like the stars of millions of galaxies, so handsome, so perfect, your body is flawless, each limb so willowy and graceful, so gracious, so perfect, so so perfect,” Johan had pulled him to his chest, swaying with him tenderly, his hands running up and down his back, comforting and homely. Magenta managed to open his eyes, his chin resting on Johan’s shoulder, and all he could do was stare straight ahead.

There was no recluse, Johan left no room for argument. “Magenta, what a perfect beautiful color, all the majesty and royalty of purple blended marvelously with the passion and flair of red, so wondrous, so perfect…. Magenta, Magenta, I don’t just think you’re perfect… I know you are. I feel it. I can see it. I can hear it in your voice when you speak and make my heart pound, I can feel it in your hands when ours meet, I can taste it when I kiss your cheek, on your smooth, beautiful skin, I can smell it in your being when you pass by me with all your magnificent perfection, all of you, down to every minuscule bit that makes up the quarks within the molecules of your DNA, all of you is perfect. Magenta, Joey, I know you are perfect.”

“Hk… hk… hk…”

Magenta buried his face in Johan’s shoulder and neck, finally managing to detach his hands from his iron grip on his forearms and winding them around the man holding him up.

“Magenta,” Johan’s voice washed over him. A soft chuckle interrupted his steady breathing, bringing the dissociating Magenta back closer to earth, closer to his arms, closer to Johan, so close, like a shield, a bubble around him, sweetly relighting the path to calmness and tranquility. “I’ve been practicing… I came to sing to you… I think now is a good time, mi rosa, hmm? Would you like me to sing for you?”

“Yes,” Magenta tried to say. He wanted to hear Johan talk forever, sing forever, serenade him out of his mind, on and on. He did not manage to say yes. He managed, “Y’....”

Johan swayed with him.

“I dropped my guitar earlier,” he murmured with a smile in his tone. “So forgive me for the lack of a musical accompaniment, but I know you are more precious than all the instruments in the world, be them made of gold or diamond or from heaven itself, you are more than anything I could ever dream of, my perfecto Magenta… I’ll sing for you now, alright?”

Magenta, not trusting his throat with his vocals any longer, nodded against Johan’s neck. The ticklish man stifled a laugh.

He sucked in a breath to steel himself.

“Sorry for mispronouncing in advance,” he whispered, and began.

“Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,” he kissed Magenta’s eyelids. Magenta felt his air catch in his throat. Johan was singing to him… in French. Oh… oh… what a sweet man. What a sweet, sweet, sweet man…. “Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche, voilà le portrait sans retouches, De l'homme auquel j'appartiens….”

He danced with him, a one sided, comforting, gentle, swaying dance. He was so sweet….

“The next line is a little reversed at the moment, mi amor,” he quietly told him with a smile in his tone, “Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose, il me dit des mots d'amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça m'fait quelque chose.”

Magenta breathed in, feeling the vibrations in Johan’s throat as he sang, letting his thousand yard stare ease down into gently half closed eyes. Johan’s arms held him up tenderly, as one would hold a gallery piece, as one would handle a newborn star, as one would caress an old beloved god. Johan’s lips were brushing his temple, his soft, sweet voice waving into him, the ebbing glorious tide.

“Il est entré dans mon cœur,” he lifted him off the ground, his thin, frail seeming arms much more powerful than he would ever admit. “Une part de bonheur.”

“Dont je connais la cause,” he spun with him carefully, holding him over the ground, holding him above all his pains and worries and fears. “C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie….”

“Et dès que je l'aperçois,” Magenta let him hold him, he let him carry him, footfalls in a strange city so similar yet so unlike his own quietly landing as he swept him off to a home so the same and at the same time so different to his own, dancing with his starlit, starheld form in his living room, but it felt like they were the only two to ever exist, it felt like they were two stars floating adrift, and no sensation felt so warm. Johan’s voice was sonorous and enveloping, his pronunciation imperfect, and it made it wondrously gorgeous.“Alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat….”

He paused to catch his breath. Magenta smiled softly, leaning up to whisper in his ear, finally regaining his voice, “Would somebody like some French tips tonight?”

“Oh, mi amor,” Johan’s voice constricted as his breath hitched, but he smiled, continuing, “C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie, alors je sens en moi….”

He laid on Magenta’s couch, bringing him with him to rest gently.

“La vie,” was he crying? His throat felt so tense, he loved Magenta so much, he adored him, every bit and kilobit within him singing the perfect man’s praises, “en rose!”

*****

Magenta had drifted to sleep to the sound of Johan’s humming, feeling it reverberate in his chest as he lay on him, their heartbeats at first out of sync and slowly meeting, gentle and warm.

Johan’s hands were rubbing his back.

His lips were pressed to the side of his head.

His legs were on either side of him, a barrier to the outside world.

What a sweet, sweet man.

One who believed in him.

One who loved him.

One who would do anything to make him smile.

One, who despite all his flaws, all his marks and marrs, believed him to be perfect in every way possible.

“Mag,” Johan’s sweet, delightful, sleepy sweet voice murmured, “Mag, you are perfect. Never think otherwise. Te amo, mi perfecto, mi amor, mi rey, mi perfecto….”

“Johan…” Magenta felt his heart swell, he felt his eyes well, and all he could do was whisper, “Gracias.”

“De rien,” was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep, drifting among pink stars. “Te amo.”

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pengychan · 6 years ago

Text

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt. 1

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it's too late. He's not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He's probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It's either the best idea he's ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[Tag with all chapters up here.]

[Also on Ao3]

A/N: @senoraluna and I had this idea a while back and of course I couldn’t resist writing it. This is gonna be a lot more light-hearted than my usual stuff. Most of the time. Can’t promise regular updates, but will do my best! (This first chapter is... a bit grim. But it will be mostly humor, I promise!)

***

Mexico, March 1914

Ernesto smelled the bodies before he saw them, hanging from the highest branches of a half-dried tree, swaying just barely despite the complete lack of wind.

They probably hadn’t been there for too long, but their corpses were already swelling in the heat, and carrion birds were having a go at their faces. He would have very happily avoided approaching at all, but it was the only tree as far as eye could see, hanging men or not; both him and Dante needed shade and rest, and to eat something.

His horse was beginning to falter, and it was a bad sign: if he died on him now, he’d be screwed. He wouldn’t be able to get very far on foot, not in that heat. They’d rest, he’d have the last of his salt beef, and Dante would make do by grazing at the shrubs.

“Come on, amigo. We’re almost there,” Ernesto said, not really knowing where there even was other than ‘anywhere but here’, and led his horse towards the tree. The bodies hanging from it had belonged to army men; they wore the same uniform Ernesto had worn until a few days earlier, when his thoughts on the mess those past few years had been had condensed into one big ‘fuck it all’.

He was twenty-five, had been drafted into the army the previous year, and he’d had it with all of it. Huerta could burn in hell; he’d only ever wanted to hold a guitar, to play and sing before crowds - not to hold a rifle and fight someone else’s damn war.

So he’d shot the man he’d been sent out on patrol with in the back-- we drank together, laughed and joked called each other amigo, but killing him was so easy --before tearing the army jacket off himself and turning his horse down south, galloping away as though he had the devil at his heels. In a way, he did; as a deserter, he now had plenty of devils after him. He needed to find someplace safe to hide until that nonsense was over with.

… And speaking of nonsense, there was a third body beneath that tree - not hanging, but tied to its trunk and entirely motionless. The man’s head was tilted against the tree, skin and balding head burned by the sun, eyes shut and mouth slightly agape. He wore civilian clothing, but there was no mistaking the white collar on his neck - a priest.

Not too surprising, really. There were people in both factions who were fed up with the Catholic church, and amidst violence no bystander was safe. Ernesto wasn’t fond on priests himself, truth be told, but he sort of drew a line at tying them up to a tree and leaving them to die slowly. He hoped the poor bastard hadn’t taken too long to--

A groan caused Ernesto to recoil, and Dante to rear back. Under Ernesto’s gaze, the priest turned his head to look at him with clouded eyes. “Agua,” he rasped. “Por favor.”

Oh, Christ, he was still alive. Ernesto quickly tied Dante to a low branch and, avoiding to step beneath the corpses, quickly went to the priest. He absently noted, a little distance away, a suitcase discarded on the ground, the prints of a donkey and tracks of wheels. The revolutionaries had hung the soldiers, tied up the priest, and left with the cart he must have been riding on, discarding whatever they didn’t need to take.

“It’s all right, Padre,” Ernesto said, knowing full well nothing was all right. He could tell the man wasn’t going to survive and, either way, Dante couldn’t carry them both; he would have to leave him there. Maybe ending him there and then would be the kindest thing to do, but even so he found himself reaching for his knife to cut down the ropes first; the man slumped forward and Ernesto caught him, leaning him down across the ground in a shaded spot.

“Not you lucky day, was it?”

The priest looked up at him, saying nothing, licking blistered lips with a dry tongue. Ernesto took the water flask from his belt, lifted the man’s head with a hand, and put the flask to his lips. He’d expected him to drink greedily and had been prepared to pull back the flask - had to save water - but the man only took a few gulps before turning his head to look up at him.

“God bless you, son,” he rasped.

“Gracias. Could use a blessing,” Ernesto muttered, putting the flask away, and looked up towards the hanging corpses. “What happened here?”

“I was… I was travelling. Santa Cecilia. Their parish priest… Padre Edmundo died. I was sent to replace him, and… and I came across....” he swallowed, and his eyes turned to the bodies hanging above them. His features twisted in anguish. “I only asked to be allowed… to give them the last rites, before… everyone should have… the last rites…”

What a stupid, stupid, stupid idea. Years of fighting had made men bloodthirsty, and standing between them and enemies to hang was asking for trouble. Revolutionaries had done this, but Ernesto knew plenty of army men would have done the same. He’d seen a church being burned to the ground over the rumor that a priest aided rebels. “It was a bad call, Padre.”

“It was… my duty.”

And you’re dying for it, Ernesto thought, but didn’t say as much. “How far is Santa Cecilia?” he asked instead. “My horse cannot carry us both, but if it’s close enough to find help--”

“No, son. It is… it is south from here, a two days’ ride,” the man managed, and Ernesto nodded grimly. That meant that he wouldn’t be able to get him help before four days at the earliest, and there was no chance he could hold on that long. He could perhaps find help sooner if he rode back the way he’d come, but it was far too dangerous.

He could never go back; forward was the only way. He needed someplace to hide... and Santa Cecilia’s parish was expecting a new priest. Ernesto’s gaze turned to the open suitcase on the ground, and to the black cassock and white collar he could see hanging out of it. The cassock should be about his size; maybe just a bit too large, but it’d do.

“I don’t think I can help you, Padre,” Ernesto said slowly, causing the man to shake his head.

“You can. You have a gun.”

So, that was how it had to be. It would be an act of mercy, he supposed: a quick death as opposed to letting him die slowly in the heat, with the smell of rotting flesh in his nostrils and carrion birds circling him. He was doomed either way, so may as well take the least painful route. If there was a god anywhere, he’d understand. Ernesto nodded, and took out his gun.

“Do you have any last words, or…?” he asked, his voice not as firm as he’d have liked. He’d shot so many people, and from close range as well; he’d ended more wounded men than he wished to recall, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Plenty of men had acquired a taste for blood those years; Ernesto de la Cruz was not among them. He was just trying to live through it, to see better days when he could leave behind rifles and gunpowder for his guitar, and music.

It was all he wanted, and he’d do whatever it took to survive until then.

The priest smiled weakly. “Let me say my last prayer,” he whispered, and shut his eyes. “Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos… santificado sea tu nombre. Venga... tu reino….”

Ernesto cocked his gun, his mouth dry, trying not to think what would become of his body once he left, leaving it easy prey of carrion birds and coyotes. He had no tools to bury him, the earth was too dry and parched to dig with his hands, and he needed to save strength. He’d let himself and Dante rest until dusk, and then set off to the south.

“Tuyos son el reino... el poder y la gloria... por los siglos de los siglos,” the priest choked out, and let out a long breath, screwing his eyes shut. “Amén,” he whispered, nodding slightly, and it was the last thing he’d ever say.

A shot rang out, and that was it. The birds that had been pecking at the hanging men’s eyes flew away, but not very far; they would come back to their feast as soon as Ernesto left.

Scavengers always came back.

***

“Héctor? Do you think the new priest is going to be nice?”

“I’m sure he will be, chamaco.”

“I still think you should be our new priest.”

Héctor chuckled, leaning more comfortably against the tree and strumming his guitar softly. “I’m a novice, Miguel. Still a few months to go before I can take the vows.”

Sitting cross-legged across him, Miguel shrugged. He was holding a guitar he’d borrowed from Chicharrón, the old gravedigger. A whole lot of grumbling had ensued, but he could never refuse Miguel anything in the end… like he could never say no to Héctor when he was his age and would sneak out of the orphanage to visit, begging him to teach him how to play.

Old Cheech was grumpy, but he’d always had a soft spot for scrappy, music-loving orphans.

“But you said mass and everything!” Miguel was saying, copying the movement of Héctor’s fingers on the strings. Héctor suspected he’d taken on the role of altar boy mostly to spend time with him, and he had no complaints. He liked the kid. “And you were really good.”

“Gracias,” Héctor laughed. “But I only said mass because there was no other option. Padre Edmundo’s… our new parish priest will be here soon,” Héctor pointed out, keeping himself from using the word ‘replacement’, and trying to ignore a pang of pain in his chest.

The elderly priest’s demise had been sudden, but not unexpected; he’d been getting on with the years. Still, his loss had stung; he’d been almost a father to Héctor, a gentle and patient guide. He could only hope to be the same to Miguel, now, even if he wasn’t much older than him. He’d been only twelve when the chamaco had been found swaddled in a box on the church’s steps nine years earlier, with a note reading only his name.

“How soon?”

“One of these days, chamaco.”

“Do you think he’ll still let me be the altar boy?”

“I can’t see why not.”

“True. I’m good at it, aren’t I?”

“Sure you are.”

“And Imelda is so beautiful.”

“Of course she i-- wha-- Miguel!”

Miguel threw up his arms with a grito of triumph. “You said it! I heard you! No take-backs!”

“That is-- I didn’t--” Héctor sputtered, knowing full well his ears were probably turning crimson at that point. And his entire face, too. He could never hide embarrassment well.

“You always look at her when she sings with the choir,” Miguel pointed out, sounding far too satisfied with himself. “I’ve been watching. It’s like you’re playing the organ just for her.”

“I do not-- that was inappropriate! She’s going to take the vows next year and so am I!”

The boy grinned. “But you haven’t yet! If you change your mind--”

“Miguel,” Héctor said, warningly, but of course he was ignored like every single time he tried and failed to sound stern. To be fair, his voice cracking didn’t really help.

“No, really! And she looked at you last Sunday, too! You can always ask, right? If she says--”

“Miguel,” Héctor repeated, and this time his voice stayed firm enough to make the boy trail off and, if his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, actually look a smidge guilty. “She has a beautiful voice and I am happy when she sings in the choir, that is all. She’s about to take the veil, I am about to take my vows, and it is what we both want. End of discussion. Claro?”

“Claro,” Miguel mumbled, sounding suitably chastised, and Héctor turned his attention back to the music - doing his utmost not to think of Imelda’s voice, of the tilt of her chin and the stride of her step, and entirely missing the skeptical look Miguel was giving him.

***

“Oh, look at that. Your secret admirer. And I use the term secret loosely.”

Walking down the street with the basket of groceries at her hip, Imelda needed every ounce of her willpower not to roll her eyes. It wouldn’t be respectful, by all accounts, for a novice to roll her eyes at a full-fledged bride of Christ.

If only Sister Sofía didn’t keep making it so damn difficult.

“It is such a baseless rumor, I am surprised you give it any credit at all,” she said, pointedly avoiding to look towards the plaza where novice Héctor was talking with a group of children, and laughing with them. He was good with children; he would make a good priest, one day.

“Oh, please. You know me,” Sister Sofía quipped. “You’re not surprised at all.”

“There was never any inappropriate behaviour from either of us.”

“I am aware. Sadly.”

“Sofía.”

“There should be a ‘sister’ somewhere in there.”

Imelda sighed. “Sometimes I wonder why you even took the veil.”

“Same as you - didn’t fancy the idea of marriage and suddenly got the calling when my parents began to look around on my behalf. Funny, how timing works,” she said, and shrugged. “The choice is limited, let’s be honest. Novice Héctor, though…”

“He’s going to be a priest soon. It’s what he’s wanted since he was a boy.”

“Or just what he’s been told over and over he should do with his life by our sisters at the orphanage. You end up believing everything if it’s repeated to you often enough. For example, Sister Antonia keeps insisting that it doesn’t count if it’s with another woman.”

That got a chuckle out of Imelda, almost against her own will. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she should two voices reached her at the same time, almost identical and yet so, so easy for her to tell apart.

“Oye, Imelda!”

“Hermana!”

“Have you seen Miguel?” Her brothers, tall for their thirteen years and with identical pairs of spectacles, skidded to a halt a few steps from them, talking fast.

“We were building him a guitar all of his own!”

“A custom guitar!”

“But we need to take a few measures!”

“He’s not with Héctor, he’s not at the church…”

“They won’t let us into the orphanage or even tell us if he’s in.”

“Nuns are no fun,” Felipe huffed.

“No offense,” Óscar added, getting a roll of the eyes from Imelda and a laugh out of Sofía.

“Oh, nuns can be more fun than you can imagine,” she said with a serene smile, entirely ignoring Imelda’s elbow against her side. Sofía’s mouth would get her in trouble someday. One way or another. “He could he be at the cemetery with Chicharrón.”

That caused both boys to make a face. “Old Cheech chased us out last time,” Óscar said.

“With a stick,” Felipe echoed.

“But if we plan out the route…”

“... And if we’re fast…”

“... After all, he has a peg leg…”

“Right, let’s do this!”

“See you later, hermana!” Óscar called out, and with that they were off to the cemetery, looking for Miguel.

***

Last night’s storm had had turned the stream into a proper river, or so it seemed to Miguel.

It was sunny now, not a cloud in the sky - the storm had been sudden and quick throwing down bucketfuls of water in a short time - and the sun beat down on his head as he hopped from rock to rock across the fast-flowing water, trying to imagine he was crossing Río Bravo, or Culiacán.

One day he might, but he had to wait for the Revolution to end. Santa Cecilia had been spared the worst of it, but things got really bad in other places; Miguel knew it because from time to time a new kid would arrive at the orphanage from out of town, and a lot of them had lost their parents because of it. A few months ago soldiers had come there, too, taken some men for the leva, and left; Miguel still remembered how the nuns had hidden away all the orphans who’d be considered old enough to hold a gun and fight.

Miguel had feared for Héctor, who’d been away at the seminary at the time, and seeing him coming back shortly afterwards had been a relief. Nothing had happened there since; Santa Cecilia was as safe as it could get. A bit too safe, sometimes. Boring. Hardly anything ever--

“Hola, niño. Is this the way to Santa Cecilia?”

A voice he didn’t know rang out suddenly, snapping him from his thoughts just as he jumped from one rock to the other. He turned, startled, and he turned too quickly: his bare foot slipped off the wet rock, the world seemed to tilt, and the next instant he was underwater.

For a moment she felt nothing but surprise, then annoyance. He hadn’t slipped like that since he was a little kid; if any of his friends were here, they’d be laughing their butts off. Miguel tried to kick himself back up to the surface… only to realize that the the stream there was a lot deeper than usual, and he couldn't reach the bottom. The current was much stronger, too, making him spin, and he no longer knew which way was up and which way was down, he couldn’t tell and he needed to breathe and--

No, no, no, no, no! Help me! Héctor! Someone!

Trying to keep panic at bay, Miguel flailed with his arms and tried to grab on something - a rock, a root, anything - and met nothing but water. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he tried to kick the bottom of the torrent to push himself upward - but one of his feet barely touched a rock and immediately slipped off it, and the movement only made him sink even deeper.

Miguel opened his mouth to cry out and suddenly water was in his mouth, in his nose, down his throat. His chest seized, his vision darkened, and panic flooded him.

No this can’t be it cannot be it’s little more than a trickle I can’t be drowning here I can’t--

Something grasped the back of his shirt, and there was a pull. Next thing he knew, sunlight was back on his face and there was earth beneath his knees, someone was patting his back and water was cascading out of his mouth. Miguel coughed, drew in a convulsive breath, and coughed some more. He was cold, nose and throat burning, but he was alive.

“Rayos, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right, niño?”

Still coughing, Miguel nodded and looked up, blinking water out of his eyes. The man who had pulled him out was young, maybe his his twenties, wearing soaking wet black shirt and trousers… and a white collar. Miguel coughed again before speaking. “Sí, gracias. I... Are you… are you our new priest?” he asked, taken aback. He’d been expecting another old man, like Padre Edmundo. That guy was barely older than Héctor.

The man’s worried look melted into a smile, a flash of white in his black beard, and Miguel couldn’t help smiling back. “In the flesh,” he said with a laugh, and stood, helping him up. Miguel half-expected him to praise God for the fact he was all right, but he did not. “I’m Er-- Padre Ernesto. And you are…?”

“Miguel,” he replied, standing a bit shakily. “I’m the altar boy at the church. I, uh… I wasn’t supposed to play here all on my own,” he muttered, and gave his best smile. “Can you not tell the sisters I was here? And Héctor especially. He’s the novice at the parish. He’d get really worried. Like he didn’t sneak off here when he was my age, too.”

He half-expected a scolding - Padre Edmundo would have berated him, if mildly, telling him that lying was a sin against God and that omission does count as lying - but, instead, Padre Ernesto grinned back. “Won’t tell if you don’t,” he said, winking. “But then I think we should wait to dry up before we head to town. I don’t think telling them that a cloud rained on us and on us only would work. Believe me, I tried that once. My mamá didn’t buy it.”

All right, so he wasn’t like Padre Edmundo at all - and he wasn’t even telling him not to do it again or anything like that. Miguel already liked him, and he was sure Héctor would too.

“Oh, I’ll get dry fast,” he said, wringing a bit of his shirt in is hand and getting a small rivulet of water out of it. “It’s going to be hot today. But your clothes could take a bit longer.”

“Not a problem. I’ll tell them I rode across the stream before I met you.”

“You rode-- oh, is that your horse?” Miguel exclaimed when he spotted a movement on their left. It was a beautiful animal, its coat such a light gray it was almost white, and it was drinking from the stream in steady gulps.

“This is Dante. We’ve been through a few things together,” Padre Ernesto said, giving an affectional pat to the animal’s side.

Miguel grinned before trying to find out how far he could push his luck. “Can I ride him?”

“That sounds like something I’d need your parents’ permission for.”

“I don’t have any parents,” Miguel pointed out, and Padre Ernesto’s expression sombered for a moment before he shrugged.

“... Ah, no permission required then. Never cared to ask for it, either,” he said, and swung up on the saddle - it was such a graceful movement, nothing like Padre Edmundo climbing on his old donkey - before holding a hand out to Miguel. “Care to guide me to the parish, then?”

Miguel grinned, and held back a grito of victory as he grabbed that hand and climbed on the horse. He held tightly on the mane, but with Padre Ernesto’s arms on either side of him, he already knew he wouldn’t fall off. “It’s that way, there is a bridge just half a mile down this path,” he said. “Once you cross it, you just go straight on. It’s not far.”

“Oh, good. Dante and I could use some rest,” Padre Ernesto muttered, guiding the horse down the path. He let go of the reins with one hand, and looking up Miguel could see he was rubbing at the thick black beard that covered his cheeks. “I could use a shave, too.”

“How long have you been travelling?”

“A while, niño. A while. I met… a few problems on the way,” Padre Ernesto said, his voice sounding far away, and Miguel could guess they had something to do with the Revolution.

“You’re from Oaxaca, right? Héctor said you’d be sent from la arquidiócesis de Antequera.”

“Huh? Oh yes. Of course.”

“What is la Nuestra Señora de la Asunción like?”

“The-- oh. Right. It’s. Nice. I guess.”

“Have you ever said mass there?”

“Not personally. But tell me about Santa Cecilia,” Padre Ernesto added quickly. “I seems like a quiet place,” he added, and Miguel shrugged.

“It is. Sometimes too quiet. A bit boring,” he said, not noticing the smile on the man’s face.

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Padre Ernesto said. “I could use some boredom for a while.”

Later on, they would both think back about those words and laugh themselves into hysteria.

#pixar coco #Miguel Rivera #Ernesto de la Cruz #Hector Rivera #Imelda Rivera #coco #fake priest au

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